Pete and I steadied the canoe down the river. The clunks of the water hitting the sides felt like thunder in the quiet night air, but we maintained our stealth. An orange glow flickered on the trees ahead.

“We’re here,” Pete whispered.

With a couple more paddles, we coasted to the open beach. The bow carved into the sand, and I quietly jumped over the side, pulling the vessel up the shore. Then Pete laid his oar down and stepped out as well.

“Now what?”

Pete just pointed to the firelight. We acted like cat burglars, creeping low to the ground and well in the shadows. The closer we got, the louder they got. Music poured into the air. Guys and girls laughed between the sounds of cans opening. Ka-shuck. Ka-shuck.

“So what? They’re drinking beer,” I whispered to Pete.

“Just wait.”

Wait is what we did, while the mosquitoes flitted about our legs. Pete began to shiver. He shorts were still wet from jumping into the river.

“I saw Claire take off her top once,” Pete said, “She was really tanked.”

“Who’s Claire?”

“The annoying perky one you met when you first got here.”

“Oh, yeah. Her.”

“What was that?” one of the girl counselors shouted.

“I don’t know,” a guy responded, walking in our direction. My face was getting warm. My arms tingled. I took a step back, but Pete stopped me. He shook his head to reassure we were safe.

“Probably a raccoon or something,” the guy said, scrambling back to his inebriated fawn. Then someone unexpected showed up.

“Yo, yo,” the voice said from the road trees on the other side of us. A white hat bounced up and down in the darkness.

Jimmy Sunglasses, the very own Tochoco cabin counselor marched to the sound of that voice. “Alright, it’s about time!”

“Shut it, toad.” The white hat walked into the firelight. I saw the same posture as that kid from the lake that got my dad arrested. Only this time, he had on a hooded sweatshirt. “You got my money?”

“Yeah. You got the meds?”

“Course I do.”

And with the snap of two hands together, a brown paper bag was exchanged for a white one.

“You want to stay for a beer?” Jimmy Sunglasses asked the hood.

“Nah, I’m just trying to lay low out in the Podunk, not celebrate.”

“Yeah, I heard some shitbag ratted you out.”

“Pssh. Payback’s coming, man. Besides, this camp gives me the creeps.”

All the counselors laughed. I looked over at Pete, who was beaming with excitement. “I told you this was good,” he said. My stomach didn’t agree.