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The rain started before they'd even left Barden. It hit the roof of the car in a solid constant rhythm, steady as if to say I’m here to stay so you’d better hunker down indoors.
Which would have been Beca Mitchell’s plan. A mix, cool ranch Doritos and maybe an annoying redhead trying to get her to watch a movie.
Instead.
This.
"It is a sign," Beca announced from the passenger seat of Aubrey's SUV, arms folded dramatically. "Nature itself is begging us to stay home. And we don’t fuck with Mother Nature. She’s badder than Beyonce.”
"It's just water," Aubrey replied through gritted teeth without looking away from the road.
"It is hostile water." Beca shot back with that tone in her voice. The tone that always set Aubrey’s nerves on edge.
"It's called weather." Aubrey was trying to keep her voice was climbing into the “Beca is pissing me off” zone. They were friends now. Friends didn’t normally want to eviscerate each other. So she was going to ignore the gremlin.
She hoped.
"It's called a lawsuit waiting to happen. Lightning loves acapella nerds. I read it online somewhere.” Beca dropped this dubious fact with an area of certainty that made Aubrey’s eyebrow twitch.
From the back seat Stacie leaned between them with a grin. She had never met shit she could not disturb even further.
"I've started a betting pool,” the lanky brunette casually announced.
"A betting pool?" Beca turned and looked at Stacie with some concern. “Is C.R. involved? Tell me C.R. isn’t involved. We just got the Bella bus back after she bet pink slips with the Trebles on whether Fat Amy had stopped boning Bumper. I mean how could she have bet against that. You always bet on the Bumper Bone. Always!”
"For how long it'll take before you threaten to Uber home." Stacie continued, ignoring the C.R. question. The other occupants of the SUV frowned. Looked like another gambling intervention might be the next Bella group activity.
"I'll have you know," Beca said with mock dignity, "I'm giving this experience a fair chance."
Stacie looked at her Apple watch.
"...You've complained twelve times in the last hour. And we’re only an hour into the drive.” She said smugly.
"I have not. That’s libel” Beca sounded like a huffy six year old.
"Thirteen. And it would be slander. Not libel. And only if it was a false statement. Which it’s not." Stacie spoke with an air of certainty that made Beca scowl even harder.
"I was making observations. About weather. And its general shitiness”
"Fourteen." Stacie made a check mark in the air with her pointer finger.
"I hate camping." Beca sank down further in her seat, the seat belt almost reaching her throat.
"There it is, lucky number fifteen" Stacie declared triumphantly.
Aubrey reached beside her and slapped Beca on the arm. “Sit up straight. No slouching. Our insurance does NOT cover Bellas being decapitated by their seatbelt because they’re not wearing it properly.”
The smaller brunette grumbled but she sat back up in her seat. You did not fuck with Aubrey and automative safety. Beca still shuddered when she recalled her lecture to the Bella’s on airbag deployment and its possible consequences. With PowerPoint slides. Very graphic PowerPoint slides.
The fourth occupant of the SUV, Chloe Beale, reached over and nudged Beca's shoulder gently.
"It'll be fun." She said in her patented soothing Beca Mitchell voice.
"You always say that before something involving insects." Beca paused. “Or Aubrey.”
The Bellas had apparently been making an annual camping trip since before Beca had joined.
Bonfires.
Hiking.
Card games.
Singing under the stars.
Sleeping in tents.
None of those sounded appealing.
Especially the last one.
The tradition had been broken when the Bellas had been reduced to just Chloe and Aubrey. And then the turmoil that was rebuilding the Bellas pushed it further into the background.
However Aubrey, in all her newly graduated wisdom, coupled with more than a hint of having a hard time letting go of her role as head Bella, had insisted on reviving the tradition. One last hurrah for her captaincy before handing it over to Beca and Chloe. She was already beginning to question her choices. Maybe she should have got out when the going was good. But Bellas for life right? Even taciturn yet talented growth stunted Bellas.
Two more hours and complaining count of forty eight (under protest from Beca who insisted that loud sighing did not count as a complaint. The rest of the occupants overruled her. Which lead to another loud sigh And another checkmark from Stacie.) they arrived at their destination, all vehicles still in convoy and with only one speeding ticket (the car Amy was driving of course.)
"I have a perfectly good mattress," Beca muttered as they unloaded equipment, a pile of camping essentials and less essentials (tiki torches) forming on the damp ground.
"You'll survive one weekend." Chleo nudged Beca as the redhead lifted the heavy cooler from the back of the SUV, having decided to step in before noodle arms Mitchell dropped it on her foot as she lost the lifting heavy objects battle. Again.
"Will I?" Beca watched Chloe with envy and not a little awe as the ginger flexed her arms and lifted the cooler life it was filled with feathers.
Chloe smiled.
"No. Probably not. You’ll get took by a raccoon most likely. They are your people after all."
"I appreciate your honesty." Beca said, looking anxiously around the area.
Not for raccoons of course.
Just because.
The campground was beautiful.
Towering pine trees surrounded a sparkling lake.
Mist drifted lazily across the water.
Birds chirped somewhere overhead.
The smell of damp ground filled the air.
Even Beca had to admit...
...it looked nice.
For about six seconds.
Then the rain returned.
Hard.
"Oh come on!" Aubrey and Beca both said the same thing at the same time. Then looked at each other and pretended they hadn’t spoken at all.
Chaos erupted.
Tent poles rolled downhill.
Jessica somehow unfolded a tent inside out.
Ashley hammered a stake directly into her own shoelace.
Fat Amy managed to zip herself inside a tent before anyone else could get in, yelling something about how she’d keep the food dry.
Lilly silently appeared behind Aubrey holding an upside-down mallet. “I can catch fish like a bear. With my teeth. And then dispatch them with my mallet.”
Aubrey nearly screamed.
"This is not going according to plan!" the blonde was frantically flipping through papers on her clipboard. Because of course she’d brought a clipboard.
"It never does," Cynthia Rose sighed.
Chloe stared helplessly at a sheet of instructions for one of the tents.
"Why are there twenty-seven steps?" she asked in a bewildered tone.
"They're in French," Jessica pointed out.
"Oh." The redhead replied. “I only read Russian.”
Aubrey snapped. “I’m sorry I didn’t get us COMMUNIST tents, Chloe.”
Emily and Flo had given up entirely on tent assembly and instead were engaged in a duel with the poles. In the rain.
“My people have the blood of Zorro in our veins.” “Well Benji taught me all about light sabres. He even let me hold his authentic Obi-Wan replica blade. Once. For twenty seconds”.
Surprisingly Flo did not seem at all intimidated by Emily’s declaration as she proceeded to conduct a balestra that made the youngest Bella fall back on her ass in the mud.
Through all of this, Beca stood in the middle of the disaster zone.
Hood up, arms dangling at her side. Motionless as a statue.
Watching.
Listening.
Assessing.
Then...
She sighed.
"...Everyone stop."
Nobody did.
"Stop." She said louder.
Something in her voice worked.
The campsite fell quiet.
She walked over to Chloe, took the instructions, glanced at them once, then folded them neatly.
"You don't need these. Ils sont inutiles”
"I don't?" Chloe asked confusedly. Then. “Was that French, Beca?”
"No, you don’t” A pause. “And yes it was.”
"You've done this before?" Chloe was starting to look at Beca like she’d grown another head. A very cute other head.
Beca looked genuinely confused.
"...Yes?"
“But you hate camping.” Chloe was looking even more bewildered.
All she got from Beca was a shrug as the short brunette sprang into action.
Five minutes later...
The first tent stood perfectly.
Ten minutes after that...
Three more.
Rainflies stretched tight.
Drainage trenches dug around each tent.
Guy lines secured properly.
Nothing sagged.
Nothing leaked.
The Bellas watched like they were witnessing magic.
Cynthia Rose blinked
"...Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.
"Beca." Was the reply she got from the woman who was prowling around the tents like they’d personally offended her.
"No." C.R. said. “You’re not our Beca. You've been replaced by someone outdoorsy."
Beca shot her a look. “Don’t be weird.”
She stopped her patrolling and pointed at a guy line.
"Stacie." She snapped.
"What?" the taller brunette looked up from where she was adjusting the rope Beca’s eyes were laser focussed on.
"Tighter." One word from Beca. Certain. Firm. Commanding.
"This?" Stacie made another adjustment
"Tighter." Again with the tone.
"Bossy." Stacie said under her breath. But her ears were red.
"Breathe less and pull more." Beca’s tone brooked no disagreement
"Yes, ma'am." Stacie stammered. Her voice sounded suspiciously breathy.
Chloe bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.
There was something strangely...
captivating...
yes she was going to go with captivating.
about Beca taking charge.
She wasn't loud.
She wasn't bossy for the sake of it.
She simply knew exactly what needed doing.
People listened.
Problems disappeared.
Then Beca wandered toward the trees.
"Where are you going?" Chloe shouted after her.
"Firewood." Beca replied like it was obvious.
"It's soaking wet."
The brunette shrugged.
"Not all of it. If you know where to look.”
Twenty minutes later she returned carrying an armload of dry branches she'd found beneath thick evergreens.
"You can tell just by looking?"
"You learn." said Beca in a very mysterious tone. Then she stripped down to her tank top, tossing her hoodie on a nearby stump, picked up a hatchet and started to chop her finds into smaller kindling.
One Bella in particular was enthralled by the sight of the small brunette lifting the hatchet and bringing it down with force. Over and over again.
The fire refused to light.
Because of course it did.
Aubrey tried.
Ashley tried.
Jessica accidentally blew ash into everyone's faces.
Fat Amy tried lighter fluid.
"No!"
Beca snatched it away.
"You'll lose your eyebrows.", she glared at the Australian
"I've got extras." Amy said with a shrug
"No. Not on my watch” Again the firm commanding oh so competent voice.
Beca crouched beside the fire pit.
She rearranged everything.
Small sticks.
Dry bark.
Kindling.
Larger wood.
One match.
The flames caught immediately.
The entire group stared.
Stacie slowly applauded.
Aubrey stood there with her mouth open, catching flies.
"I'm confused." Ashley whispered.
"So am I," Jessica admitted.
"I thought she only knew mixing programs." Flo said.
Beca shrugged, completely unworried.
"People can know two things."
She stopped and thought for a second.
“Or more.”
Dinner became another revelation.
While everyone else unpacked hot dogs and squished buns...
Beca dug deeper into a cooler marked “Beca’s Shit. Touch it and die.”
And produced a miracle. Or several miracles to be exact.
She pulled out item after item like an arboreal Santa Claus.
Marinated steaks.
Corn, already shucked..
Potatoes, pricked and ready.
Fresh herbs.
Garlic butter. Hand made
Foil.
Chloe looked at her with eyes like saucers. “What? How? When?”
Beca gave another shrug. “I had time while you all were trying to pack for the trip. So I ran out and grabbed a few things. Important to eat right when you’re in nature.”
Chloe gave a dazed nod. “Sure, makes sense. The girl who complained all the way here is a deep woods Gordon Ramsey.”
Fat Amy looked close to tears.
"...Marry me." She whispered.
Beca snorted.
"You ask everyone."
"Not with this level of sincerity. I’d go totally lesbo for your meat. And by that I meant the steak. Or did I?"
Everyone chose to ignore Fat Amy at this moment. It seemed like the safest thing to do.
Soon the campsite smelled incredible.
The steaks hissed over glowing coals.
Corn roasted in foil.
Potatoes cooked beside the fire.
Garlic butter melted into everything.
Even Aubrey looked impressed.
"I thought camping food was beans. And hotdogs on sticks”
"Only if you're doing it wrong." the small brunette smiled when she spoke and then casually flipped over Aubrey’s steak to make sure it was done just right.
Chloe watched Beca move around the fire.
Her sleeves rolled up on the plaid shirt she’d put on as the air got a bit cooler and buggier.
But still open enough so her white tank top was visible and the soft sheen of sweat on her collarbones sparkled in the firelight.
Hair tied back.
Cheeks pink from the heat.
Laughing quietly whenever someone teased her.
She looked...
comfortable.
Like she'd stepped into another version of herself.
One Chloe had never seen.
Stacie leaned over.
"So..." she whispered in a tone oozing innuendo.
"What?" Chloe knew where this was going
"...Why is this attractive?" Stacie sounded, if it was even possible for her, totally flummoxed by Beca Mitchell’s previously unknown outdoorsy hotness.
Chloe blinked.
"What is attractive?" Chloe figured playing dumb was the best defense. Knowing that the smartest Bella would see through her immediately.
"I don't know. Mitchell getting all into the woods is reaching me in areas I didn’t know I could be reached in" She paused for a second. “Dirty areas if you get my drift Chloe. Like really filthy areas.”
“I think Helen Keller could get your drift, Stace.” Chloe found herself snapping back. Something in Stacie’s tone irked her.
Stacie gestured helplessly.
"She's chopping wood again.”"
"So?"
"...It's doing something."
Chloe looked back toward Beca.
"...Maybe."
"...Oh."
"...Yeah."
Chloe’s heartbeat synced with the sound of Beca Mitchell bringing the hatchet down on the stump as she split more firewood. She made a mental note to make sure that the fireplace in the Bella’s house was clean and ready to use, that there was a nice pile of firewood ready to split, a log to chop it on and maybe, no, definitely, a hatchet, personalized with a certain co-captains name on it ready and waiting to be swung.
What? Using the wood fireplace would save on heating bills. It was a financially responsible decision
And so it might be a bit cosy. And encourage fireside snuggling. Bella bonding was important. Chloe was thinking of the group. Pyrotechnical team building so to speak.
Aubrey had gotten up from where she’d be gnawing on her steak bone like a feral animal (the steak was quite passable, Beca) and ducked into the tent where their food had been placed out of the rain.
A loud scream made the Bellas jump.
“Amy, Amy Patrica Fat Amy Hobart,” Aubrey’s voice was getting higher pitched with each word.
Amy looked confused. “Do you thin she means me?”
Aubrey emerged from the tent in full rage mode. “You!” she pointed a cardboard box at the Australian. “Ate” she stalked closer, shaking the box, which rattled and sounded very empty. “All” spittle flew from Aubrey’s lips. “The fucking graham crackers.”
Amy protested. “I was just testing to see if any of them had got soggy in the rain. Good news, none of them had.”
Aubrey sank to the ground, her head in hands. “No s’mores. How can we not do s’mores?’ She mumbled as she started rocking back and forth.
There was a gasp of horror from beside Beca. “No s’mores….really??”
Chloe’s eyes were wide and her lips were trembling. She looked like a kid who’d been told that their birthday and Christmas had been cancelled that year, and they’d be spending the summer at school. Doing math.
“Not the face, Chlo! Please don’t do the face.” Beca tried to calm the redhead.
Chloe turned and looked directly at Beca; her face devasted. “But. But… but. Becs.” She took a shuddering breath and then let out a wail. “S’mooooooooooooooores”
Once again showing an outdoors competency that bewildered the Bellas, Beca sprang into action.
“Okay, S’mores are out. But how about……” She didn’t finished the sentence but ran to one of the coolers Aubrey had labelled fruits and vegetables: 2 servings fruit; 3 servings vegetables per Bella per day.”
Rummaging around she came out with a big bunch of bananas. Then she snatched up the marshmallows, chocolate bars, and tin foil. Heading back to the fireside, she pulled out a very sharp very impressive looking folding knife from her hoodie pocket.
Cynthia Rose gave her a look. “I though Lilly was the only Bella carrying lethal weaponry.”
Beca shrugged again. “It’s a Buck knife. My mom wanted me to be prepared.”
She deftly spilt a banana length wise, filled the hole with pieces of chocolate and marshmallows, wrapped it in tin foil and pushed it into the coals.
“Banana boats” she said as if that made perfect sense.
After about five minutes, she used her foot to drag the foil wrapped package to the edge, covered her hands with the edge of her hoodie as makeshift oven mitts when she picked it up and placed it on Chloe’s dinner plate. Unwrapping the package, steam and a delicious smell came out.
Beca picked up a spoon and handed it to the redhead. “Don’t burn your mouth”
Chloe took the spoon, scooped out some banana covered in melted chocolate and marshmallow, blew on it and then popped it into her mouth. Her eyes widened a bit as it was obviously still hotter than expected.
But she nodded her head and swallowed. “Delicious, Becs! You saved the campfire.”
Beca blushed at Chloe’s statement and then quickly stepped out of the way as the other Bellas rushed the supplies she’d brought over and started making their own banana boats.
After dinner came music.
Of course.
Sticky, slightly chocolate covered and very full Bellas did what came naturally to them.
They sang.
No microphones.
No choreography.
Just voices.
Someone found an old guitar.
Beca rolled her eyes.
"I suppose someone has to tune it."
Of course she did.
Within minutes everyone was singing.
Songs from Barden.
Old folk songs.
Disney.
Eighties power ballads.
Even Aubrey loosened enough to laugh when Fat Amy intentionally changed lyrics.
Darkness settled around the lake.
The fire crackled softly.
Stars slowly emerged as the clouds finally broke apart.
"It's beautiful," Chloe whispered.
Beca followed her gaze upward.
"It really is."
For a long moment...
Neither spoke.
Eventually people drifted toward their tents.
Stacie loudly wished everyone "romantic dreams."
A chorus of groans followed.
Inside their tent, Chloe unrolled two sleeping bags while Beca hung a small lantern from the ceiling.
The rain had returned.
Gentler this time.
Soft enough to sound almost musical.
"You surprised everybody today."
"I noticed."
"I didn't know you could do all this." Chloe said in a voice filled with admiration.
Beca smiled faintly.
"There was a time I could've done twice as much."
"You really grew up camping?"
She nodded.
"My mom loved it."
Her smile softened.
"It was our thing."
She settled onto her sleeping bag.
"Every summer we'd disappear."
"No phones."
"No TV."
"No schedules."
"Just us."
She laughed quietly.
"She'd always insist we stop and identify birds."
"Were you interested?"
"Not remotely."
"So why'd you do it?"
"Because she was."
The tent grew quiet.
Beca traced absent circles across the fabric beneath her fingertips.
"She taught me every knot I know."
"How to build a fire."
"How to cook over one."
"How to read a map."
"How to find north."
"She said..."
Beca smiled sadly.
"'If you can look after yourself out here, you can look after yourself anywhere.'"
Chloe listened without interrupting.
"When she died..."
Beca's voice caught.
"I couldn't come back."
"I packed camping gear once."
"I drove to a park."
"I sat in the parking lot."
"I cried."
"I drove home."
The words came quietly.
Matter-of-factly.
Almost more heartbreaking because of it.
"It stopped feeling like ours."
Outside...
Rain tapped gently against the tent.
Inside...
Chloe reached across the small space.
She covered Beca's hand with her own.
"I'm sorry."
Beca squeezed gently.
"I know."
"I've missed her every day."
"But..."
She looked around the tent.
"...Today wasn't awful."
"No?"
Beca smiled.
"It felt..."
She searched for the right word.
"Familiar."
"The fire."
"The smell of pine."
"The rain."
She laughed softly.
"And somehow..."
She looked directly at Chloe.
"...having you beside me."
Chloe felt her heart skip.
"You know..."
Beca continued.
"...all day I kept getting the same feeling I used to have."
"What feeling?"
"Safe."
The word hung between them.
"I haven't really felt that since..."
She shrugged.
"I guess..."
"...since Mom."
Chloe blinked thoughtfully.
Then...
"You think of me as your mom?"
Beca froze.
"...What?"
"You said…"
"I did not!"
"You literally…"
"I absolutely did not!" The horror on Beca’s face was echoed by the horror in her voice.
"Oh."
Chloe fought a smile.
"So you're saying you don't want me reminding you to wear a sweater?"
Beca groaned dramatically.
"I am trying to have an emotional moment."
"I noticed."
"And you're ruining it."
"I might be."
"You absolutely are."
Chloe finally laughed.
"I'm teasing."
"I know."
"You looked horrified."
"I was horrified."
"I couldn't resist."
Beca shook her head, smiling though.
"You are impossible."
"So I've been told."
Her smile slowly faded into something softer.
"What I actually heard..."
Chloe whispered.
"...was that I make you feel safe."
Beca nodded once.
"You do."
"No pretending."
"No performing."
"I can just..."
She shrugged.
"...be."
Chloe's eyes warmed.
"I like that version of you."
"You've only seen one version."
"I don't think so."
She brushed a loose strand of hair behind Beca's ear.
"I think you've been showing me pieces for months."
"This one..."
She smiled.
"...just chops wood."
Beca laughed.
Their laughter faded naturally into silence.
They were sitting close now.
Neither seemed eager to move away.
Chloe searched Beca's face.
"Can I try something?"
Beca's voice came out barely above a whisper.
"...Yeah."
Chloe leaned forward slowly.
Giving Beca every opportunity to pull away.
She didn't.
Their lips met.
Gentle.
Warm.
Neither rushed.
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't perfect.
It simply felt...
right.
When they separated, they stayed close enough that their foreheads almost touched.
Beca stared for several seconds.
Then smiled.
"...Wow."
"Good wow?"
"The best wow."
Outside, the rain continued its steady rhythm.
Inside, everything somehow felt lighter.
Beca glanced down between them.
"Huh."
"What?"
She picked up the edge of her sleeping bag and found a zipper running along its side.
"...Did you know..."
She held it up triumphantly.
"...these sleeping bags zip together?"
Chloe looked at the zipper.
Then at Beca's hopeful expression.
A slow grin spread across her face.
"I suppose..."
she said, reaching for the second zipper,
"...it would be irresponsible not to use the equipment properly."
Beca laughed … a full, unguarded laugh that echoed softly around the little tent.
Outside, the campsite settled into peaceful silence.
Inside, two sleeping bags became one, and somewhere between rainstorms, campfires, old memories, and one very unexpected kiss, Beca Mitchell realized that maybe camping hadn't stopped being home after all.
Maybe...
she'd simply been waiting to find the right person to share it with.