If it’s your last year at my camp, it’s tradition to, on the last day, run up to the dinner bell at midnight and ring it. It’s a sort of send-off ritual. Another well-known fact is that staff guard the bell all night long, and heaven forbid they see you try to go for it, they will stop at nothing to stop you. Chasing, tackling, and even downright dogpiling. It’s hardcore; it’s messy; it’s so much fun.

So before the last day, my friend Isa and I devised a plan to ring the infamous bell. And once that night came, we were set. When the staff left, we crept out of our cabin and took the long road that curved around the back of the dining hall and towards the bell. Then, we slowly snuck through the back and waited until the counselors went inside to get snacks. Heck, we were so prepared we knew the exact path we’d take to get back: Isabella would take the mountains; I’d take the forest. But just our luck that there was another group of boys there. As we were about to run to the bell, they crept up from behind us, intending to use the same route we did, though it was obvious they hadn’t planned as deep as Isa and I had. The group tiptoed forwards, shushing each other every other second, but then one of them, genius that he was, stepped on a branch, a fatal mistake.

Crack!

In an instant, all thirty of the staff turned to look at the group of children standing behind them. We froze like deer in headlights. We had been spotted.

I looked over at Isa, my gaze like steel. She gave me a nod and took off.

Following our backup plan, she sped up the mountain to our left, and I ran through the woods on our right. The group of underpaid adults ran behind us like hounds, screaming and barking at us to stop, howling that they were going to catch us and that we were done for. 

The hunt was on.

I sprinted down the road, diving straight into the forest. Familiarity filled my bones. Navigating this was easy. We did it every day as a shortcut. 

But our hunters did too. 

My plan to lose them quickly crumbled as I realized that, like me, they knew every crack and crevice of this place. Every broken dodgeball, feral raccoon den, wilting tree. They knew. 

I tore through the undergrowth, jumping into the creek. Thorns scratched my arms and my shoes were soaked in muddy water, but nonetheless, I pushed on. This was a competition about speed and endurance, and there was no way I was going to lose to a bunch of twenty-year-olds. 

Dragging myself out of the woods, I saw my destination: the south-side showers. I could tell from their bodies that the hunters were likely men, which meant they couldn’t go in to follow me. And even if they did, I could simply pretend I was using the bathroom. What were they gonna do, chase me into the stalls? 

With my new and improved plan in motion, I slipped inside, silent as the wind blew behind me. From the frustrated groans outside, I knew I had won. 

But of course, in my moment of absolute genius, I had failed to account for one very important fact. 

“How are you gonna get out?”  

My head spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“Oh my god– Avery,” I gasped for a second, regaining my composure. My counselor, Avery, stood across from me, arms crossed. “I uh– well, I don’t know. I’ll think of something though.”

“I’m sure you will.” That sardonic smile crept up onto her face again, the one I hated.

“Be quiet,” I huffed, turning my head away to hide my growing grin.

“Hey, I’m trying to help you here.”

“Really? How then?”

She broadly gestured to herself. “I’ll just tell them you were using the bathroom.” 

I laughed a little, and she stared back blankly at me. “I keep on forgetting you’re the head counselor. You act like a kid, which is a lot coming from me, because uh– I’m a kid.”

“I’ll walk you to the exit,” she said, ignoring my previous dig at her. Typical behavior of her to abuse her status as counselor for our benefit. But hey, I wasn’t complaining. “You should ditch the running shoes and camo getup, though.”

I glanced down at my soiled jacket and shoes, quickly shedding them. I snatched a towel from the drying rack and bundled my coat along with my sneakers, protecting them from the soon-to-be prying eyes of the men outside.

We hurriedly walked to the exit, and after a brief exchange where Avery promptly told the men to “shut up,” I left.

I raced back to my cabin, diving into my bunk. Ignoring my cabin mates, I buried myself into the pillows, putting on my best show and pretending I was asleep. Minutes passed, and when no staff came in, I reluctantly sat up. 

Just as my worries began to settle, Atlas, my best friend, sped up to the door. They’d been over on the north side in their cabin when all of a sudden some staff had burst in, questioning them if they knew anything about the boys who’d snuck out. Of course, they knew; the boys were their cabinmates; Atlas had orchestrated the whole thing. When they’d heard from a passing comment that two other kids were there, they’d realized from the timing that it was us. Atlas and Isa were dating, so of course, they panicked. 

From the doorway, they looked around the room. Isabella wasn’t here. 

“For the love of god… Tell me you know where she is!” 

I grimaced. “Ehhhh– about that–”

“Where. Is. She?” Their voice flattened, bringing a chill down my spine. They’d brought out that tone.

I was done for. You only hear that tone from Atlas when you’ve messed up. And I’d not only messed up, I’d royally messed up. 

“Okay, okay… I know it sounds bad but I’m sure she’s probably fine! Not probably– she’s definitely fine! She does track, she’s super fast– c’mon, we both know she can outrun everyone.”

Between my fragmented and desperate attempts to justify the situation, my friend sighed. This had been a really bad idea.

“Go find her. Now.” Atlas stared daggers at me, their eyes burning and digging into my mind. 

“I want to! But the staff are all there out there, and if I get caught outside, I’m done for. They already hate me for the whole stealing-the-pasta-pot thing, so I really, really can’t risk getting caught.”

“Uh-huh. And what about Isa?”

“I said she’ll be fine.” God, now I was just repeating myself. It wasn’t my fault we’d been split up! They should be chewing out their stupid cabinmates, not me! “Look, if she’s not here in ten minutes, I’ll go look for her. Deal?”

Atlas’ face soured through the doorway, though after a second, they seemed satisfied enough to leave me alone. “Ugh– Fine. But you better make sure she’s okay. Because I swear, any cut on her is one I’m gonna put on you–”

“I got you,” I cut them off. With a sturdy nod, I ruffled their fluffy hair as I always did.

The familiar display of comfort must have sealed the deal, so like a cat, they snuck back into the shadows and disappeared.

Time passed, and I began to feel worse and worse. This… feeling was stuck in my head. I’d left Isa behind. One of my closest friends. The girl who’d stuck with me through every screw-up and punishment. The guilt gnawed at my stomach, tearing me up from the inside. I felt so, so bad. I had to fix this. Once again, I donned my camo outfit and laced my shoes, ready for another hour of action.

But just as I was about to go find her, Isa slipped in through the back of the cabin, covered in dirt and what I really hoped was not blood. When our eyes met, I breathed the deepest sigh of relief I think I’ve ever breathed. 

“Oh thank– uh… heaven, you’re okay.” In an instant, I was at her side, smiling and looking her up and down, checking for injuries. Luckily, everything seemed there.

Regardless of her battered state, she gave me a soft smile. We hugged, ignoring the grime to focus on our friendship. 

“Yep! All good!” Her warmth settled me. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe. I felt so bad for leaving you!”

 “Hey, it’s okay! That was the plan, after all.”  

“Yeah but–” 

She cut me off. “If you feel so bad, then give me some of your candy next time we go to the store.”

I stared at her, deadpan. “Look, Isa, I love you, but not that much.”

We broke out into laughter. Everything seemed so simple. No drama, worries, or panic. We were just two teens in a cabin by the lake, covered in dirt and mud, having the night of our lives. 

And that day, I learned a lesson I won’t forget: never, ever, ever leave a friend behind. It doesn’t matter if someone is chasing you, or if their canoe is sinking and you don’t want to get wet, or even if they stole the last s’more. You go to them. Across fire, storm, or sea, you find them. You help them up, and together, you move forward.