Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Despite her father's reassurances that the summer camp would only last 7 weeks and that Beatrice would get to meet kids like her, the first kid that Beatrice meets wears purple. 

Purple skirt, purple shirt, purple sneakers, tied crispy, double knot. She turns to face Beatrice with the efficiency of a whip. "Lilith." She takes Beatrice's hand and forces their handshake. Deeming the action done, she shoves it away and cleans herself off with the green scarf around her neck. 

Beatrice follows silently like she has been doing this entire time, shoes crunching the branches and twigs under her feet. A blanket and a set of bedsheets for her bed hugged to her chest. 

She is not sure what to expect. Beatrice is 10 and has never been to summer camp before this. All she knows is that this one is not normal. Let's start with the name: Chippewa Camp for Troubled Kids. Then, with the fact that her parents paid a good dime for someone to smuggle her in. 

She arrived in a tinted SUV without plates. A pair of directors, Suzanne and Vincent, received her when she did. They seemed okay. Straight to the point. Not any more stern than her own parents, so, as they spoke, Beatrice kept quiet, hugging her blue dragon with short wings to her belly. At the end of their brief welcome, they took the plush toy from her, promising that they’d return it at the end of the day if she behaved. 

“They will not, by the way,” Lilith says as the two of them take a sharp turn and go up the steps leading to what’s presumably going to be their cabin. “They are not going to return your dragon,” she explains. “They kept my Barbie last year.” 

Beatrice hugs her bedsheets tighter. She has no reason to believe Lilith but no good reason not to believe her either. She is the only other kid she has seen here, partly, Beatrice believes, because she arrived extraordinarily early. The sun is not even up yet, and no one else has arrived after her. 

Her parents could simply not wait to get rid of her after what she did.

“But my grandpa gave it to me. He said I had earned it,” Beatrice defends. That should be enough reason for it to be returned.

“I’m just saying you won’t get it back.” Lilith’s expression is determined. Smug almost. “Unless you convince the others to steal it back for you.” 

The others, Beatrice gathers as soon as they make it inside, means Ava, Mary, and Camila. Or at least, Ava and Mary since their names are already taped to the front of their assigned beds. Beatrice’s own and Camila’s lay on a wooden table. 

Lilith picks them up. “One of you will sleep outside tonight.” 

“Why?” Beatrice asks. It will be cold, and bears live in the forest. Black bears, she read on the family computer. 

“If the team does not like you, you’ll sleep outside.”

“Who’s to say that you won’t like both of us?” 

Lilith turns the cards. Frowns at the names as though such a rule had never been questioned. “That’s not how it goes. One of you will sleep outside. There is only space for one in the team, and we voted on the rules last year.” 

Assuming she won’t be allowed to pick a bunk bed until the rule is enforced, Beatrice leaves her blanket and bedsheets on the table. She drops her backpack on the floor. “Do you get sent here every year?” That sounds vile to her. What kind of kids are they to land here so often? Beatrice can only imagine that they have done heinous things. 

“Usually.” Lilith shrugs. She turns Beatrice by the shoulders. “Last year, I burnt down my father’s plans for his electoral campaign.”

“And this year?” Beatrice asks as they make it down the steps outside.

Lilith shrugs again. “I told my mom that I had a step-sister. Did not know it was true, but I’ll meet her when this is all over with.” 

Out of nowhere, a pair of fingers jab into Beatrice’s shoulder, bringing her stride to an abrupt stop. She looks at the spot that’s getting ready to bruise and at the violent hand that just committed the crime. The other kid dares to look more annoyed than Beatrice about this. 

“Who’s this?” The other kid asks. She frantically gestures to her. Several brown spots already stain her white oversized sweater. 

“Mary, this is Beatrice.” Again, Lilith forces a handshake between the two of them.

Mary too, wipes her hand against her blue pants. “What were you sentenced for?” she asks.

“Where is Ava?” Lilith asks, interrupting. She cranes her head to look past Mary, but Beatrice sees no one else.

Mary exhales. “She got transferred to a new foster home, but she’ll make it. She always does.” She shoots Beatrice a look. “Sentence, worm.” 

Beatrice flinches then frowns. She has not decided whether she wants to tell anyone why she’s here. Her parents reacted badly enough as it is. “I… Well, what did you do?” She tips her chin, trying to look more assertive. 

“Stole a bike from K-Mart. I do that every year,” Mary says like it’s both obvious and simple. “I’m already not voting for her to join our team,” she adds as she goes up the steps. 

“Well, that’s stupid! You don’t know me!” Beatrice retorts. She is still working on that thing her parents had mentioned not long ago about keeping quiet. 

And she should have kept quiet, she now thinks, because she has absolutely no idea what this team even is. She just knows that she does not want to be left out. Yet again, be the kid that doesn't get picked and has to wait for their teacher to place them in the least popular team.

In the grand scheme of things, Beatrice is aware, she doesn't excel. At school or anywhere else. She, in fact, gets bored among her classmates and her classmates of her, and, in her house, she stays quiet. But Beatrice still stands out because she's tall for her age and has an accent that she only ever hears at her house and her family's parties. 

That doesn't help. Because when she doesn't get picked for something, which happens altogether too often, she sticks out - quite literally, and she is left with no option but to stand by herself while other kids point at her - as Mary does just now.

Angrily, Mary drops her backpack on the steps. “You are sleeping outside!” 

The encounter fizzles out by itself. Not because any adult intervenes but because Beatrice just scoffs and Mary rolls her eyes, and that is that. All bark no bite kind of thing. 

After the scene, they simply head (with Beatrice walking behind them) towards the same area where Beatrice had been dropped off. They intend to wait for the other kids to arrive, arms crossed over their chests like they don't want anyone else to approach them (for whatever purpose that is). 

Teachers and camp counselors do, of course, to introduce themselves or say 'hi' to the two faces they do recognize. 

The point of the camp is not to torture them, but to help them learn healthy coping mechanisms and to take responsibility. At least, that's what Beatrice remembers from the brochure. Quite a few other things were listed. 

Looking at Mary, however, how she shrinks into her shoulders when the counselors approach them and blows raspberries at them when they leave, Beatrice is not sure of what they are trying to do here or if the other kids even like it. 

"I don't," Mary says. "I only come because of my friends and the government pays for it." 

Beatrice turns to Lilith. "It's nicer than spending the entire summer at the estate. But they do treat us like kids." 

Are they not kids? Beatrice purses her lips, thinking. She is at that age where she doesn't know what category she fits in. 

It's something she has been thinking about more often. How, at church, when the priest calls the kids to the front to hear the homily, she doesn't know if she should even stand up. Her mother does not prompt her to go anymore. She only goes still because she is accustomed. 

“Are you sure Ava will show?” Lilith asks when the traffic of incoming kids starts to slow down. 

“She has to," Mary says confidently. Like she'll go to Ava's house and steal her bike if she doesn't. "She pulled the fire alarm at school and slit the school bus’s tires. Also, talked about her foster brother’s Playboy on the school’s intercom. She always makes sure." 

Between them, Beatrice sits horrified. That is so much worse than what she did. 

Such horror gets trumped, nonetheless, when another counselor brings a crying kid over. "This is Camila," they say in reference to the beet-red kid under their arm that looks like she'd rather climb a tree than be here. She rubs her eyes with closed fists and sniffles. 

Her orange shirt is wet with tears and so are her red shorts. Her red shoes look like they were dipped in mud. 

“ She is sleeping outside!” Mary shouts. 

The counselor gasps, and Camila, who clearly doesn't even know what Mary is referring to, proceeds with her crying. 

From the log on which they sit, Beatrice thinks the girl is absolutely excused to do just that and to bury her face into the counselor's side. Beatrice also doesn't want to deal with this. 

As much as Beatrice feels for Camila, nevertheless, she avoids her. They all do, opting to sit in a part of the classroom where it is granted that they won't have any space for her to sit with them. They don't know what her deal is, and Camila is still too busy crying to talk about it. So Camila sits at the front, weeping, while Lilith, Beatrice, and Mary sit together at the back. 

They pull the papers a counselor had handed them at the room's entrance to their laps.

It is nothing complicated. They are supposed to mark the activities and classes they have some interest in. A second paper contains a map of the campsite and outlines the tasks that are expected of them during their stay. 

First, they are expected to keep a journal. Beatrice already picked hers from one of the two tables in the corner - the only one with astronauts. Second, they are expected to adhere to their schedules. "No, nonsense," the counselor says with a serious face. Beatrice pays no attention to him. She only tries to calculate how much fun they'll have - if any at all. A lot of the activities possess an academic nature. Chemistry labs, art classes, math. The Boy Scout department stands limited. 

Lilith raises her hand. "Will we get to swim this year?" 

"As you may remember, Miss Villaumbrosia, the fishes at the lake are big." 

"So what if they swallow another kid?" She asks nonchalantly. 

The kids sitting in front start to scream. The counselor shakes his head. "No kids have ever been swallowed here. Please, everyone, calm down." But the ruckus has already started, and conversations regarding Bigfoot, Sasquatch, werewolves, vampires, and Loch Ness overtake anything the counselor tries to say. All of the kids in this room are girls, so it is not pleasant to anyone's ears. 

Beatrice's ears maintain a steady drum by the time they sit down for lunch. 

She has still not decided if she likes it here, but frankly, she does not like a lot of things. The one thing she liked is what sent her here, so Beatrice is saving her assessments for later. Instead, she sits, observing how Lilith and Mary exchange the food on their trays amongst themselves and with others, and Camila builds a weird concoction beside her. She found a place to sit this time and no one had the nerve to ask her to sit anywhere else. 

"Are you not going to eat?" Mary asks as she balances all the biscuits she has gathered into a tower in front of her. She's preparing a package of honey to drizzle over them. 

“I suppose I can go now,” Beatrice says, looking over her shoulder to note that the line is pretty much over. 

She picks some of the biscuits, a beef taco, chocolate pudding, and corn. Not the most pleasant combination, but that’s all there is. 

This is not a fancy summer camp. Beatrice doubts that her parents paid much for it. In reality, if she recalls the map correctly, the campsite consists of just two big buildings in front of a lake with many classrooms in them. Their cabins extend to either side of them and all of them face the lake. For some reason, the gym and tennis court are on the other side - like an afterthought. And everything is green. The buildings, the cabins, the walls, the benches, even the lake are tinted green. Greener than the tall and skinny trees that are endemic here.

And the kids? Well, Beatrice is obviously still getting used to them. While rowdy and seemingly unable to sit or shut up to eat, most of them just seem angry to be here, herself included.

But the meanest one is probably the one that bumps into her as she tries to make her way to her seat.

“Watch it!” she says, not even turning to see that she has smashed Beatrice’s food against her chest.

Beatrice won’t cry. She refuses to do that now. She is 10, and the last time she cried in public taught her that she should never do that again. 

Instead, trying to keep her tears in check, Beatrice stomps to where the girl has sat - with Beatrice's new friends. 

“I was sitting there!” Beatrice clutches the now foodless tray, trying to burn with her eyes the girl who has just pushed her. Mary snickers. Unbothered, the girl simply regards Beatrice. “I said I was sitting there!" 

“Well, now it is my seat!" The girl glowers as she says this. 

“This other seat was empty!” Beatrice points to it. 

“I can’t sit there.”

“It’s not like you don’t fit.” The girl is smaller than Beatrice. Thin. Green shirt and brown pants fitting like balloons on her. Beatrice sees no reason for her to absolutely need to steal her seat at the end of the table, right after smashing Beatrice's food tray against her chest. 

The frown on the girl deepens, and she bites her lips, and just when Beatrice thinks that the girl will snap, jump over the table and kick her face like most of the kids at this summer camp seem capable of doing, the girl merely looks towards the side - to the floor. Then straightens, expression softer like she's thought her reaction over. It's a stark grown-up response from someone so tiny and young. The first leveled one that Beatrice has seen since she was driven by the sideways roadway sign that said ' Chippewa' . “I do fit alright," the girl says. "Scooby does not." That's when Beatrice glances towards the floor and sees a beagle with a blue service dog vest. “Bite her, Scoob,” the girl mutters softly, pouting, and, just as gently, Scoob shows his teeth, not at all threatening. 

Defeatedly, Beatrice plops on the remaining seat. “I’m sorry.”

The girl regards her once again, expression altogether softened, but Beatrice can't bring herself to look at her. She only glances, ashamed. 

"Ava," the girl says. 

Beatrice hesitates, but Lilith, adept at forcing introductions, says her name. 

Hearing it, Ava brings both arms up in the air and bangs the table. Everyone but Scooby startles. “Bea gets my vote!” she announces.

“What!? No!” Mary says through a mouthful of biscuit. 

Ava frowns. “She apologized," she points out. "What’s our other option?” They all look among themselves, avoiding eye contact with a sniffling Camila. Beatrice is afraid that if they look at her, she'll start crying again.  

She leaves to change before that can happen. At their cabin, she tries on the camp shirt, which, for a change, is white like the clouds instead of green. It feels a bit small on her, tight on her waist and arms. Her mom still picks her clothes for her, so Beatrice isn't aware of when she got bigger, but that looks to be the case. She'll have to ask for a larger one.

Just when she's about to do just that, Ava comes inside, Scooby following closely behind. 

Ava is strange. Carries herself like she thinks about everything. Beatrice does too, but she suspects that Ava's thoughts are funnier, more mischievous, and adventurous. She's proven right when Ava takes three chocolate muffins out of Scoob's vests and offers them to her. 

"Scoob has pockets,” Ava explains, muffins held out in front of her.  “I saw that you didn't eat,” she adds when Beatrice doesn't say anything. 

"Thanks." Beatrice takes just one muffin. The second one is probably for Ava, and the third is likely for Scoob. Beatrice is aware that dogs shouldn't eat chocolate, but Scooby might have developed a tolerance with an owner like Ava. Who knows? Not Beatrice, who opens the wrap hungrily yet takes a small bite. 

Pressing her lips into a smile, Ava promptly takes Beatrice's name from the table. She tapes it on the bunk bed under hers. Beatrice stays still. "You don't like it here?" Ava asks. Beatrice takes another bite. She does not like it there because, even in the afternoon, that side looks too dark. "Closer to the window then?" Beatrice stops chewing. Did Ava see when she looked in that direction? Can Ava read minds? "Okay.” Ava then takes both of their names and moves them to the bunk bed closest to the window in the far left corner. She walks back to Beatrice, satisfaction brightening her eyes. 

Beatrice gulps. It seems like something inconsequential, but in reality, she has never had anyone pay her that much attention before. Not even her parents bring her lunch when she is too busy playing games to eat. They certainly can't tell when something like bright-colored clothes or the crumbs on mac and cheese annoy her. 

So Beatrice thinks that Ava is pretty. She thinks about it very hard to test if Ava can read minds. 

But Ava just stares, bottom lip slowly worrying between her teeth. 

"What's your favorite animal?" Ava finally asks, dropping on the closest bed. She pats the mattress, and, not long after, Scooby jumps in with her. 

"I think cats.” Beatrice takes another bite. In turn, Ava gasps and protects Scooby's ears. Quickly, Beatrice thinks of a more agreeable answer for the both of them. She cares about Ava liking her. She has proven to be nicer than the other kids. "I like dinosaurs too. And dragons, but they are extinct." 

"We have birds!" 

"Not as big." 

"Do you want to pet him?" Ava puts an arm around Scooby and nudges him a bit. Scooby keeps his gaze on Beatrice as though he were aware of what's being offered. 

If Beatrice is being honest, he looks like a boring dog. Smart but he has a job. 

"Isn't he working?" Beatrice asks, clutching the muffin wrap to her chest. Unbeknownst to her, her lips and the tip of her nose are covered in chocolate. 

She remembers very well the morning she petted a service dog at Disney World. Her father sent her back to the car with her nanny, and she never got to see any of the characters. 

"You can pet him. He likes pets, and I give you permission," Ava reassures. “Do you want to?” 

Beatrice nods. She might like cats, but Scooby looks almost as soft. Dogs are pretty cool too, she admits. Pointy canines like dragons. 

"What do you need him for?" Beatrice asks as she sits on the bed to run her fingers through his head. 

Ava scratches his sides at the same time. Scooby looks like a happy boy, mouth open and tongue out. “I get seizures,” Ava explains. "That's why I like the top bed. It has rails.” She points to them. Beatrice looks up, following. Ava stays silent, eyes wide as if assessing Beatrice’s reaction to what she just said. In truth, Beatrice does not care. She has never seen someone have a seizure, but Ava looks healthy. She blames Ava's thinness on her clothes. “When they happen,” Ava continues, " you should help me turn on my side. Make sure there is nothing around my mouth or neck and that you time it. Mary and Lilith know what to do, but just in case." 

Beatrice nods. She can do that, yes. "Okay." 

Beatrice didn't wipe the chocolate off her lips until she arrived at her only class for the day, and the other kids started laughing at her. Embarrassment made the muffin churn in her stomach until Ava glared at them, Mary hit someone with a ruler, Lilith scoffed, and the whole situation ended with Ava grabbing a wet wipe for her. 

Now, as they sit together at a table, Beatrice struggles with what she should write in her journal. They are supposed to explain how they feel about their day, otherwise, they won't be allowed at the bonfire. Had they asked before the chocolate incident, Beatrice would've written that the day was pretty okay. She would rather be at home, but she likes Ava. Camila isn't crying anymore. Lilith's family is also British but she speaks with a Spanish accent. Mary had said that the journal Beatrice had picked (with the astronauts) is pretty cool. She might learn archery. 

But as she thinks, she feels ashamed. For the incident. To be here. 

She turns to Ava for advice on what she should actually write. Maybe even to get a glimpse of what her new friend writes. She's curious but notices the other girl leaning back on her chair, arms folded over her chest with an equally unamused frown. Beside her, Scooby is shredding a journal to bits. 

“What's wrong?” Beatrice whispers.

“They only had a gray one and a yellow one.” That's all Ava says as she looks at the gray journal in front of her. Beatrice suspects that most of the yellow one already rests in Scooby's belly. 

“So you aren't going to write?” Ava shakes her head. “How will you go to the bonfire?” 

“I'll sneak in. Or I'll just watch from afar.” She shrugs. “I don't even want to go anyway. Burnt marshmallows stink.” 

“But you also missed it last year and cried about it,” Lilith points out. 

“Mary sat on my pencil!” 

The accused snickers as she flips to her third page.

Most adults would've taken Ava's behavior as difficult, but Beatrice understands. Since her foster parents brought Ava late, she probably didn't have many choices left. Beatrice hardly thinks Ava has any choices at her house if her ill-fitting outfit and singular pencil held together by tape exemplify anything. 

“Mine has astronauts,” Beatrice points out. “Do you like astronauts?” 

When Ava nods and Beatrice rips the page where she had started scribbling, she does not feel a loss. Rather, as she exchanges their journals, Beatrice feels proud of herself. She feels happy when Ava leans over to start their task and when she recognizes her own name in the way Ava's hand moves to write it on the page. 

That happiness lasts well into the night. Surpasses even the fear that tingles through her arms as Mary tells the scary story of the night. 

Mary shares a bunk bed with Lilith, and Camila sits by herself crisscrossed on the bed tucked in the opposite corner, the one Ava had wanted first. Ava and Beatrice, sitting on their respective levels, face Mary and Lilith. 

Camila is also happy now, having explained that she just missed her mom, something that the 4 of them found sort of universal. 

"What are you in here for, worm?" Mary asks, throwing a cracker at Beatrice. 

It lands on the comforter Beatrice has wrapped around her head. "Huh?" 

"You've been avoiding my question!” 

“I have not.” 

“Yes, you have!” 

"Can I go first?" Camila asks. 

"Sure.” Mary waves a hand, leaning against the pillow on her back. “Since a mouse bit Beatrice's tongue." Then: "She has my vote,” Mary later declares when Camila goes over the fact that she let out all the goats from a farm, and they tormented her town.  The news had compared the total damage to an EF-2 tornado. 

Lilith rolls her eyes. "You guys are too unpredictable." But Beatrice did see her nod convincingly when Camila explained she just wanted to set them free. 

"What did you do, Bea?" It's Ava who asks this time, and because it's Ava, Beatrice does not feel like telling the truth. Rather, she wants to seem capable and cool. 

"I stole my dad's car." 

"What kind of car?" Mary asks, raising a brow. 

"His Ferrari." Beatrice's dad has never owned one. It would be hard to disprove. 

"And where did you take it?"

Beatrice shrugs. "For a ride." 

"You are lying!" 

"I am not!" 

Mary gets on her knees, pillow tightly clutched in her hand, ready to be thrown at Beatrice's face if need be. "Yes, you are! Because if I had stolen a car, I would have crashed it!” She smashes a fist into it. “Ava, who are you voting for?" 

"I vote for Bea." 

" Fine , I vote for Cam. Lil?" 

"I - I vote for Cam." 

A pause. It's settled then. Beatrice will sleep outside. She's been kicked out of the group. Maybe she should have campaigned better for this or come up with a better story. But now she's out. She has not been picked yet again, and she'll get eaten by a bear. Her throat lets out a whiny sound for her. 

"No!” Above her, there's a thud. “Leader rights!"

Both Mary and Lilith throw their hands. "You can't claim leader rights on the first night! You can only claim it once!" 

"My vote counts twice!" Beatrice can feel Ava shuffling over her. Trying to keep up, the bed squeaks and sways.  

"That is still a tie!" 

"And Scooby votes, too! Scoob, vote!" Scooby howls. Somehow, they all take that as a vote for Beatrice, frowns setting deep. 

"I demand a recount!" Mary shouts.

From her corner, Camila brings her knees to her chin. Her lips tremble. She'll cry again if she gets kicked out instead. 

So Beatrice intercedes. "I'll sleep outside. It's - it's fine." 

The idea terrifies Beatrice, but Camila is the youngest anyway, and the rest of the team couldn’t care less if Beatrice lives. It should have been her from the beginning. 

She stands up, comforter still wrapped around herself. Turns to give her new friends a last glance. Mary throws a pillow at her. Ava scowls through all of this. 

Outside, she settles on the porch, next to the bench. All kinds of bugs chirp and buzz around her. They'll eat her when she's dead. 

She sits, and, shortly after, a shadow joins her. 

"Do you mind?" Ava asks, holding her pillow and comforter in her sides. 

“I thought -” 

“I'm the leader,” Ava explains, dropping her things on the bench. “I can sleep outside if I want to.” 

Beatrice nods as Scooby moves to lay close to her, finding a nice spot under the bench perfect for him. Ava finds a comfortable position easily enough, facing Beatrice. 

Beatrice just stares away. It feels like, in more ways than one, Ava has chosen her, and the feeling proves scarier than being out in the wild. Because Ava is perhaps her very first genuine friend, and they have only known each other for a day. 

Beatrice lacks the words to word this properly. The experience in measuring something of similar magnitude, but she does feel safe with Ava next to her, so she twists and lays back. Tucks herself in. 

"Thanks for sticking up for me,” she says.  

Ava buries her face in her pillow and lowers her arm to rest between Scooby and her. "You are kind. Nobody is ever kind to me." 

A point that is illustrated the next morning when Vincent brings Ava to class, arm all bent and held over her head. While they slept, Ava had gone to rescue Beatrice’s dragon, something that she only explains during lunch when the frown melding her brows together finally gives. 

They get their revenge later on, Beatrice recounts 7 weeks later to her nanny. Following Camila's masterful thinking, Ava, Mary, and Lilith released a chicken and an owl they had called Harry in Vincent's room. He dealt with the feathers and droppings for several days, something that the team ended up satisfied with. 

They never retrieved Beatrice's dragon, though. It disappeared. 

As they walk through their cabin, Beatrice talks about many other things they did over the summer (rowing, building bridges with popsicles, a petting zoo, a workshop on wood, Biology...) with speed and enthusiasm. Her nanny mostly just nods. 

“And where did you sleep?” Finally, her nanny wipes a hand through the pillow on the bed that has Beatrice’s name on it. The hand finishes its journey with dog hairs stuck to it. She grimaces. 

“I slept with Ava,” Beatrice says happily. 

After they slept together outside, Beatrice saw no need to put a stop to that. She liked that Ava is warm, thereby eliminating the need for Beatrice to wear socks while she sleeps. And contrary to what Lilith says, Ava does not snore. Mary does. 

“So you never slept on your bed?” Horror pours out of her nanny’s eyes. 

No one had said that she needed to, so Beatrice suspects that her nanny’s reaction concerns the revelation that her parents paid for a bed that she never used. 

Sharing comes easily for Beatrice if and only if it involves Ava. Ava just needs to ask, and Beatrice will give her whatever she holds in her hand. 

In fact, Beatrice wants Ava to come over for Thanksgiving. 

Her nanny looks worried, but Beatrice attributes it to the fact that she is talking. Beatrice rarely talks at home or to her, but she needs to get her point across: Ava is her new best friend, and she should spend Thanksgiving with them. 

It happens because Beatrice lies about it. Back home, despite a relatively long car ride and the exhaustion from camp settling in, she tells them eagerly that Ava's foster parents also work in real estate and are heavily involved in politics. (Her foster dad landscapes houses and makes sure to vote Republican every year.) She also says that Ava is a quiet and well-educated kid. 

Quiet? No. Well-educated? Ava knows a lot more than Beatrice. She knows how to pick locks and get into the pantry. She also knows how to start a car, deflate the tires, and take off the catalytic converter. (Ask Suzanne's Jeep.) 

She knows how to start a fire. 

Ava also knows a lot about Beatrice. She knows when Beatrice feels uncomfortable or like something is stuck to her skin. She also knows what to say when Beatrice is scared of things like kayaks or the caterpillar that snuck into their bed. 

So, the second her parents get off the phone, Beatrice starts counting off the days until she sees her best friend. 

Eventually, that Thursday finally arrives, and so does Ava. That very morning. 5 hours before Beatrice's parents had said she could come. On a pickup truck that creaks and can somehow transport two adults and five other kids. With a large backpack, filled like she'll stay the rest of the week. 

Beatrice's parents carry long faces,  nonetheless, when it comes to it, they instruct the staff to add a mattress next to Beatrice's bed, and they let Ava help their chef carve into the turkey just as she had begged. 

Through dinner, Beatrice learns that Ava has never had home-cooked turkey. Her foster parents do celebrate Thanksgiving, but Ava explains: “It's just Costco chicken.” She brings a huge piece to her mouth that she struggles to chew. “One chicken for three and canned peas. Have you ever had Costco chicken? It's good!” 

In the same breath, she tells that, for Christmas, her foster parents take them to the closest church, where they have the kids stand in line for a toy. The church limits it to 3 toys per family, so Ava, being the oldest of the bunch, never gets to grab any. 

Beatrice's parents stay silent, jaws clenched, but Beatrice smiles widely, nearly wiggling in her seat because her best friend sits next to her after so many weeks. And she’ll stay for the rest of the week.

She drops a piece of turkey for Scooby. Receives two glares when she pulls the dog to her lap while they still sit at the dining table. 

Beatrice has never had a pet. The closest thing by far is the Tamagotchi she shows Ava when they sneak into the living room later that night to watch TV. Her nanny had given it to her.

“Not even a fish?” 

Beatrice shakes her head. “My parents say I'm not responsible.” 

“But you are very responsible. You like… did your homework. And your pocket pet is still alive.” Ava throws one end of a blanket over Beatrice and the other over herself. She wiggles closer, getting ready to switch her attention to Bill Nye, the Science Guy . Next to her, Beatrice tenses. “What’s up?”

“Well, when I told my parents about camp, they said that we should never share a bed. Again,” Beatrice explains, bringing the blanket to her chin. “Or like sleep under the same blanket.” She feels her cheeks redden as she speaks. They had made it sound like them sharing a bed was an awful thing. Shameful even.

Ava scrunches up her face, thinking. “But we showered.” They did. Ava's hair smells like honey still. So does her breath because she had said that she took a bite off the bar to see how it'd taste. 

“I admit I don’t get it.” Beatrice truly has no idea. Normally, Ava is the one who has a better grasp of adult things. “Is there anything bad that could happen?”

Ava turns to her. “Do you have lice?”

Beatrice shakes her head fervently. “No.” 

“Then no.” Two skinny arms wrap themselves against Beatrice then. They squeeze, and Beatrice laughs. “I missed you, Bea. A lot. Like every day, I wished you were with me or that you'd visit so I could tell you about what I did.” 

“Me too,” Beatrice says. When she turns her head, she finds Ava's eyes fixed on her, two big and bright orbs that want nothing but to absorb the image in front of them. They scan Beatrice's face as a smile grows on Ava's own. “I did miss you.” So much that now having Ava near is not nearly enough. Luckily, Beatrice is used to managing big feelings. She knows very well how to lock them away before ever needing to put a name to them. Having done just that, she scratches her nose. “So what did you do?” 

Ava squeezes tighter. Smiles brighter. “I got good grades in my math class cuz you always get good grades. Broke my helmet, Scoob -” Hearing his name, he plops between their legs. “Scooby didn't miss a seizure,” Ava continues. 

Beatrice listens until Bill Nye turns into The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air , and Ava's eyes get puffy with sleep. It's only then that she brings her friend into her arms. To keep her safe. 

***

Beatrice tells her English teacher to go to hell. That's all it takes for her parents to send her to Chippewa Camp for Troubled Kids the following summer. 

As part of hers and Ava's strategic plan, she does it close to the summer so that the incident coincides with the time the camp mails the re-enrollment forms to her house.

The sentence tastes like bile as it comes out of Beatrice's mouth. She's sure she trembles. 

Beatrice likes all her teachers, but she likes Ava even more, so it needed to be done. 

As such, Beatrice arrives at camp with a new helmet for Ava, bought with her savings from Christmas and her birthday. A belated Christmas present. Blue and green with two spiky ears. 

Ava loves it, and during the first day, wears it for so many hours, her hair sticks up, matted when it comes off. The second day, Suzanne takes it away because she starts to use it to ram her head into other kids. 

Having lost her new helmet, Ava sits so angrily during lunch that she can’t open her Capri Sun. Beatrice stabs the juice packet in the middle for her, sharing some of the anger as well. 

“Do you know where they keep our stuff?” Camila asks.

“Everything they take disappears,” Lilith says. “So don’t let them see your unicorn.” 

Camila clutches said unicorn to her lap, pouting. 

“It’s not gone!” Ava slams the table with a fist. “We are going to get it back!”

“Yes! We are going to get it back!” Beatrice shouts, soaking up Ava’s determination as she does everything else. 

At night, they divide into teams. Ava and Mary will break into the storage room inside the counselor’s break room. Lilith and Camila will keep watch. Beatrice will watch Scooby during their first heist. 

They pick the storage room because it is the only place that, throughout the years, they have not tried. The counselors sleep close by, so any mishaps will certainly land them in camp jail, a cabin on the other side where they are meant to write apology letters that they’ll have to read in front of their class. And they’ll have to speak to a counselor, which Mary says is the worst part. 

“If they catch us, just say I made you,” Ava advises as they stomp out of their cabin. 

Beatrice shakes her head adamantly. “No.” 

Ava sighs. “Bea.” 

“You are my best friend. You and I. Forever.” Beatrice does not care about sappy. This is their biggest adventure yet, and the consequences are dire for someone just 11 years of age. 

Ava wraps her arms around an unsuspecting Beatrice. It takes her a minute, but Beatrice eventually hugs the thinner girl in return. Senses how Ava's body softens into her arms. 

“Quit it for fucks sake!” Beatrice frowns. Mary has been using bigger words as of late. 

In retrospect, they could have done nothing to change what went wrong with their plan. It would have happened anyway. 

But as Beatrice chases after Scooby, and Scooby steps on the TV's controller, and said TV starts to blast the THX theme sound through the speakers, and the walls start to quake, and Suzanne emerges from a hall with a face that says she’ll kill all of them, Beatrice curses herself for it. 

“It's okay, Bea. Scooby was just trying to alert me,” Ava explains as they walk through the darkness towards the cabin of punishment. 

Suzanne follows behind the team with a handheld lamp and a flashlight that gives their tired faces a yellowish tint. 

“Right, Scoob?” Ava asks, and Scooby taps his nose against Ava's knee just as he had when he freed himself from Beatrice's grasp during their failed rescue attempt. 

Beatrice stops mid-step. “Ava?” 

Seizures can happen due to overexertion, and - less likely - due to secondary effects of Ava's medications. Often, they happen when Ava sleeps or so quickly Ava barely even registers them. 

But they happen, and Beatrice only knows to catch her best friend before she falls and to time it. Make sure she does not hit her head. 

But it's too late. It's very very very late. 

“How far away do you live?” Beatrice asks in the still early hours of the morning while both Ava and her sit on a tree trunk, waiting for her foster parents to come pick her up. 

Ava looks like a pirate with bandages on her left eye and more bandages surrounding the top of her head. Ava, teary-eyed, had insisted on clarifying she looked more like a mummy.

She sniffles. “About 10 minutes, I think.” Her voice is low and weak and Beatrice does not dare ask any more of it. 

Her best friend does not look at her. She looks dead ahead to the tree-cloaked road her parents are supposed to come from when they arrive. 

Doubts if they will start to settle between them after they have been sitting for an hour. The sun is starting to come out, and Beatrice knows that Ava's foster dad never misses a day of work, and they only have one car. 

“Does your head hurt?” Beatrice asks.

Ava shakes her head no, a valiant act that precedes a wince. “I don't need to go to the hospital, anyway,” Ava says, straightening. “I'm fine.” But her voice breaks like she's about to cry, and Beatrice feels helpless here. Like her hands might fall or like she’ll choke on her own breath.

She walks through the gravel towards the road. That way, if Ava’s parents drive down the hill, Beatrice will be the first to tell Ava they are here. 

10 minutes pass. 15. 30. The sun comes up to make the tears on Ava's face glint.

“Give it back! She wouldn't have gotten hurt if you had given it back!” At Suzanne's office, Beatrice does not receive the reaction she looks for. 

Instead, Suzanne leans back and taps her pen against her paperwork with a constant, unaffected pace. 

“Beatrice, what you are experiencing right now is anger,” she says. 

“I don't care! Just give it back!” 

The upholstery on the armchair in which Beatrice sits needs to come off. Her nails need to grow long and sharp so she can tear the walls. She needs to either get the helmet or make someone pay for it. 

But she's small. Tall for her age, but in front of Suzanne, who remains unmoved through the scariest outburst Beatrice has had in her entire life, Beatrice feels dizzy and small. 

She wants to hide from a world that she can't quite reach, its length continuously expanding in front of her. 

But she stays seated, arms wrapped around herself. 

“You know,” Suzanne says, folding both hands and placing them on the desk. Something heavy darkens her eyes and falls upon Beatrice when Suzanne beholds her. “You’ve always been one of the kids that I think shouldn't be here.”

“I want to be here,” Beatrice says through gritted teeth. She looks down at her scuffed shoes. “My friends are here.” Then, more gently: “Give it back. I bought it for her. Please.” 

Suzanne raises a brow. “And your dragon?” 

“I don't want it.” 

So Beatrice leaves without it.

Carefully, she places the helmet on Ava's head and fastens the strap around her chin. And then, Beatrice finally feels big because Ava looks like Beatrice has brought down several stars from the sky for her, big teary eyes that look like moons themselves. 

“Oh, that's a feisty helmet!” Shannon, Ava's favorite camp counselor - and quite frankly, the only counselor Ava likes - says as she kneels down in front of Ava and next to Beatrice. 

“Bea got it for me,” Ava says, both proud and suddenly abashed with pink cheeks. 

“Would you like to wear it to the hospital?” 

Ava presses her lips together. They tremble as though she were holding back her tears. “My foster parents aren't gonna take me.” 

“That's okay.” Shannon places a hand on her knee. Beatrice makes sure her friend feels comfortable with this. “You don't have to worry about that. We've obtained a special permission to take you.” 

“A special permission?” Ava asks.

“Yes, a big truck will come pick you up, and I'll go with you.” 

“An ambulance,” Ava clarifies, her seriousness in full display. 

“Yes.” 

“I'm not a kid.” 

Shannon’s expression softens around the sentence. “You are quite smart, Ava, yes.” Creases form around her eyes as she smiles - like she believes it as much as Beatrice does.

A special permission, Mary explains when the rest of the team returns from the punishment cabin, means Ava will get removed from her current foster house due to her foster parent’s continuous negligence. 

She does get removed, but not for the reason Beatrice had expected when she receives Ava's phone call several months later. 

“I got adopted, Bea!” Beatrice makes her repeat it, but, even then, the entire sentence does not make sense. 

“A doctor at the hospital that they sent me to,” Ava explains. “I don't know, but I have a big brother now, and I live in a big house! His name is Michael and he likes wrestling.” 

“A big house?” 

“Gigantic.” Beatrice smiles and presses the phone closer to her ear. Ava has never said that word before. “I don't have to share a bedroom anymore! And she let me paint the walls!” Beatrice imagines them to have sharks, turtles, and beluga whales, Ava’s favorites. “I asked for a pony, and she said she'd think about it. Scooby has a bed now as well and a big yard, but he doesn't like it. I think it scares him.” 

The list of things Ava’s new house has proves to be 30 minutes long. It’s breathless and exciting.

Beatrice, who had previously considered asking her own parents to adopt Ava, feels tremendously happy about it. 

When they are ready to hang up, a bit of a rustle marks the phone’s journey from Ava’s ear to her new mom’s. 

“Hello, are you the famous Beatrice?” Ava’s new mom asks.

Beatrice clears her throat and straightens. First impressions matter. “Uhm, yes, ma'am. I'm Beatrice, but I'm not famous.” 

She chuckles politely. “In my household, you are. Ava talks about you non-stop.” Beatrice feels the tips of her ears get hot because of this. “If Ava remembers your address correctly, we might live just over an hour away. Could you pass the phone to your parents?” 

“Will I speak to Ava again?” 

“I'll have you visit,” she says easily. 

“And I have a phone now, Bea!” Ava shouts from a distance.

“And she has a phone in her bedroom now,” her mom clarifies as a soft giggle breaks up her words. 

Beatrice’s parents agree to Beatrice spending an evening with Ava’s new family if anything, because Ava’s new mom has a cool name. So cool her parents’ brows shoot up as she introduces herself to them formally on the phone.

The occasion is set to Kings Day the following year, right after Beatrice turns 12. 

“My mom used to celebrate it with me, so my new mom wants to do it too,” Ava explains through the phone later on. 

Their phone calls never become scarce. The phone rings every single day, and every single day, Beatrice sits by it on a stool, waiting to talk to her best friend. It’s all she looks forward to. It’s what she thinks about the most other than what fun thing she’ll do during the day to tell Ava about later. 

Despite talking to Ava nearly every day for an entire year, nothing prepares Beatrice for when she turns 13 and gets to visit again during Kings Day. 

In Ava’s room, she holds a Lego set that she had bought just earlier with Ava’s new mom in her hands. Legos were what they were into during camp, so, during their shopping trip, Beatrice had suggested they get Ava a Lego spaceship and perhaps a Lego fire truck as presents. Ava’s mom had frowned in confusion, but she did not say anything and proceeded to help Beatrice buy the presents anyway. 

Now Beatrice understands why. 

The designs on Ava’s walls have been painted over and replaced with a radiant pink. The desk where Beatrice had planned to build the Lego sets lays suffocated by piles of makeup, lip gloss, dresses, and skirts. A lipstick stain in the shape of Ava’s lips highlights the poster of a pouting blond boy. 

“Alanis Morissette, New Kids on the Block, Madonna, and NSync,” Ava says, pointing to their respective CDs in Ava's brand new case as if introducing them to Beatrice. 

She later shows Beatrice her new radio and CD player as well as the backpack she has been using during the school year. At least that has a turtle and is green. Ava then sits Beatrice on her desk chair and haphazardly applies makeup to her face. 

Looking between them in the mirror, Beatrice can’t recognize either of them through the glitter in her eyes. 

She swallows and clutches the Lego sets to her chest as she tries to hold onto any glimmer of their childhood that might be left. 

Admittedly, there are some. 

They do sit together to build the Lego sets when Beatrice gets tired of nodding and saying ‘yeah” to every famous actor or singer Ava seems to have a crush on. 

At camp, they do try to share the same bed, but after some shuffling, rearranging, multiple sighs, and elbow bumping, Ava declares the one thing Beatrice does not want to hear: “I don’t think we fit together anymore, Bea.”

“But we don’t get the bigger beds until next year,” Beatrice whispers into their blanket despite how painful the sentence feels. 

To aid in filling up the lump forming in Beatrice’s throat, Ava shrugs. “You can sleep with Scoob on the bottom.” 

Ava is taller and Scoob is fatter; there is nothing Beatrice can do about it. 

She does get closer to Camila, who still prefers to watch Bill Nye during their allotted breaks and has no idea who 2Pac is. Likewise, she lets Mary bury her in the sand and keeps Lilith’s secret that Lilith told her about in the restroom when Beatrice asked if she had just opened a packet of chips while in the stall. (She won’t tell you either.) 

And still, Beatrice loves her best friend more than anything. She lets Ava touch her bracers and pull at the wires to test them. She rushes to Ava when Ava gets hurt after one of her moon shoes slipped off. Towards the end of camp, she pushes Mary for throwing pogs at Ava. The three of them nearly start a fight. 

Such protectiveness takes on a jagged edge when they turn 15, however. Because Beatrice does not like to hear about Ava’s new friends. She insists her new boyfriend is a bad influence. She thinks Ava should not be smoking, and that the amount of makeup she wears is what’s clogging up her pores. 

“It’s not, Bea! Mom buys me the best brands. It’s hormones maybe. My boobs are getting bigger too.” Ava argues through the phone. 

Beatrice can’t fight hormones, but everything else she might. She feels angry and hot despite how many times Ava still calls and into how much detail she goes to tell Beatrice about her day. 

Nothing is the same. Particularly how Beatrice feels and the intensity with which she yearns to be with Ava every moment that she’s awake. 

She’s scared too. She fears that they’ll become so different Ava will stop caring about their friendship. That she’ll be set aside like a toy Ava - now grown and blossomed - does not use anymore.

So, for Halloween, Beatrice goes to Ava’s party dressed as a ghost. 

“I dig it,” Ava says, leaning on the front door’s frame, beer can in hand like she’s not 15 and her medications don’t react with alcohol. 

“I like yours too,” Beatrice lies above the sound of music and through the perforated blanket over her head. 

Ava looks down at herself. A smile grows sweet as she adjusts the plastic crucifix between her pushed-up breasts. She tugs at the back of her tight skirt like it's stuck in a place Beatrice refuses to name. “I didn't think you would. I'm aware that anything religious is not up your alley.” She brings Beatrice into a hug that lingers then kisses the side of her head. “But I appreciate you for still being nice about it.” 

This time, Beatrice tells the truth into Ava's shoulder. “You do look great even if I don't like the costume.” She looks how sexy nuns should look. Ava now has the assets to pull the outfit. Her fruity scent brings in a seductiveness that Beatrice never imagined associating with her best friend. Not now at 15 and definitely not when they met at just 10 years of age. 

“I know.” Ava pulls Beatrice up the steps so they are at the same level. “My ex wanted me to wear it.” 

Beatrice quirks a brow. “Your ex?” This is news to her. 

“Come.” Ava pulls her hand and removes the blanket, leaving the white fabric to hang from Beatrice's left shoulder. She drags a thumb through her tongue and uses it to brush through Beatrice's brows. She stares momentarily as though examining how much Beatrice has also changed. Ava squeezes her hand fondly. “I want you to meet all of my friends.” 

“Your friends?” Beatrice didn't come prepared to meet any friends. She came prepared to sit in a corner and play with Scooby while Ava did her own thing with her own friends at some other part of the house, laughter continuing without Beatrice being there to tamper it. 

“Mhm.” Ava nods as she fixes the collar of Beatrice's shirt. In her mind, Beatrice swears Ava pulls her towards her just a bit. 

“I suppose that's fine. But just like… five.” 

Ava smiles. “I only have three friends outside of camp, Bea. I think you'll be fine.” 

Beatrice cranes her head to look past Ava and into the house. Easily, over 80 people are talking, shouting, drinking, dancing, drugging themselves, or having sex in there. 

Ava, however, sticks to her words and introduces Beatrice to Chanel (Harley Quinn), Randall (Batman), and Zori (Carrie). Zori gives Beatrice the side-eye, and Randall barely acknowledges her, but Chanel tips her head down and looks at Beatrice through her red cup with a playful smile like she knows something Beatrice doesn't. 

Admittedly, Beatrice, at 15, barely knows anything still. She does not know why Ava never lets go of her hand or why Ava insists on dancing until Beatrice finally rescinds her dignity and agrees - only to appease those big doe eyes of hers. 

She does not know why, at 3 am, when Ava has already changed, and it's only them, Michael, and Scooby in the massive house with arched white ceilings and stone-colored drapes, they decide to whisper in the kitchen.

“Did you bring extra clothes?” Ava asks, forearms resting along the counter.

“I wasn't sure if you'd want me to stay.” 

Ava tilts her head to the side and bites into her still-glossy lips. The nightlight that Miss Salvius insists on keeping on the kitchen island glows soft and yellow on Ava's smooth skin. “I always want you to stay.” She turns towards Beatrice and leans on her hip. “I'm sure we can steal something from Michael.”  

Beatrice nods. “So about your ex,” she asks. “Are you alright?” 

Ava sighs and leans again on the counter. She allows a little bit of silence as she thinks. “Better than ever,” she finally reveals. “You were right about many things. I don't think I ever loved him.” Something goes wrong in Beatrice's face because Ava smiles at it. “What?” 

“I think I was mostly mad,” Beatrice explains. She shoves her hands in her pockets and glances to the side. “Didn't think I'd be right about anything I said regarding you and him.” 

Ava's smile grows wider. “Were you jealous, Bea?” 

“I don't… know?” Anger is the only feeling Beatrice has no issues identifying. The rest of them, she tosses aside until they become a big ball of everything . She does nothing with it, however. Sometimes, she takes a little bit of the essence from there to push herself to get better grades or to pass her driving exam or pull through something that scares her. Like kissing a girl, but that's about it. “Was I allowed to be?” 

“Yes.” Ava affirms quickly. “I had been spending a lot of time with him. I started cutting corners with you.” 

Beatrice shakes her head. “You didn't.” 

“I did. I did, Bea, and I'm sorry.” 

Beatrice disagrees even as they head to bed. As she slips on Michael's heather gray sweatpants and black sweater and Ava's gaze lingers on her - on the patches of temporarily exposed skin. 

After that, Beatrice forgets about that particular issue quickly enough. 

It's been years since they slept on the same bed, so this has also changed. 

Their legs tangle more easily. Ava's breasts take up more space. Beatrice's butt is difficult to keep in the bed. Ava has bangs now and framing pieces that get into her face, and Beatrice isn't sure if she should put an arm around her like she typically would.

She shifts, Michael's sweatpants so big on her she feels her legs horribly warm and like they are starting to sweat. 

Ava worms just a bit closer. She brings Beatrice's arm to her waist and looks up with disarmingly honey-like eyes and a held-back smile that threatens to be even more sweet. 

“What is it?” Beatrice asks, burying her face into the pillow until she can only see half of Ava's. 

“You have way more freckles.” 

Beatrice huffs a laugh. “Are you counting them again?” 

“Would you let me lift your shirt to count the ones there?” Beatrice remembers very vividly when Ava did back at camp. She even kept a tally on Beatrice's skin - with a permanent marker. 

“I think I only have some here.” Beatrice lifts her shirt to expose her waist and lower abs, courtesy of her martial arts classes. 

Ava does not look down, but moves a hand to trace a path along her waist with the back of her fingers. That honeyed gaze is still there. 

Beatrice could get lost in it, but before she feels something that she'll have to throw in the pile, she says: “Thank you, Ava.” 

Ava moves the hand on Beatrice to brush a strand of hair out of her own face. Confusion knits together her brows. “For what exactly?” 

“My parents had advised me to not come. They said that, among all your friends, you wouldn't pay attention to me.” 

The night couldn't have turned out any more different. Beatrice isn't even supposed to be here. She's supposed to be back home in her own bed, wearing socks because Ava is not supposed to feel so warm next to her. 

“Would you like to know why I broke up with my boyfriend, Bea?” Ava asks. After a moment, Beatrice nods even though she'd rather not know. She's just glad he seems to be gone, and Beatrice does not want any reason to have to go after him. “Because at the end of the day,” Ava says. “I always ended up wishing he was a bit more like you.” 

“Why - why me? I'm boring.”

Beatrice is sure even her neck has turned red. Everywhere Ava looks does.

Ava giggles. “You are not.”  She brings a hand to Beatrice's neck and closes the distance between their chests. With her thumb, she caresses the shell of Beatrice's ear. “You are kind, brave, mindful. Interesting in your quirks and random facts. You are also extraordinarily beautiful. Have always been, Bea.”

This other feeling Beatrice can name. It's want. Like how she wanted Ava to move out of her seat when they first met. When she wanted Ava to like her enough to become friends so she told her she liked dragons and dinosaurs (she definitely did). Like how she wanted everyone who wronged Ava to pay, particularly those that took her helmet. How she wanted to grasp their childhood and inject it into her veins whenever she sensed it was slipping by, heading out of reach. 

Like how she wants to kiss Ava just now. 

“May I show you, Beatrice? Why you?” Beatrice nods, and for the first time in her life, she feels like she has touched the end of the universe for it has stopped expanding to experience this with her. 

She feels small. She feels big as their lips meet. She feels Ava all around her. Her own hands where they are not supposed to be. 

Yet it's slow, demure. She's merely touching Ava's waist, feeling her best friend slither towards her. And she focuses on not bumping her bracers with Ava's teeth or on using too much tongue, on avoiding a rough movement that will kick Scoob out of the bed. 

And they laugh and let relief wash over them until they fall asleep, a tangled mess like they did the first time they slept together on the same bed. 

Lilith, Mary, and Camila hate them now. Ava says it's because they kiss all the time, but Beatrice disagrees. They don't kiss nearly enough. 

They are 16, and both of them have agreed to keep their relationship secret. Otherwise, the camp counselors will find out and one of them will get moved to a different cabin. 

So they do kiss - but on the other side of the lake, where no one has been going as of late. Sometimes, they take a boat and anchor in the middle of the water over the deepest trench. Other times, they hide behind the cabin of punishment. It's here that Ava takes off her shirt and lets Beatrice suck on a tit. 

But that's as far as they've gone. Never in front of anyone's salad nor disrupting anyone's sleep. 

“But you also look at each other like that . It's nasty,” Lilith says from her bed, gesturing frantically between them. 

“Yes, I'll throw up and then I'll knock your new teeth off!” Mary points to Beatrice. She just got her braces off. 

“Good luck with that,” Ava says smugly, arm wrapped around Beatrice's while they lay back. “Bea just got her black belt.” 

“I don't care. She'll get a black eye too if y'all don't stop smacking your lips in the middle of the night.” 

“We don't!” 

“You do!” 

Okay, they do, but they'll never admit to this.  Particularly not Beatrice. 

Beatrice is a lot more silent when it comes to these things, choosing to let Ava take the reins of what they do and when. Meanwhile, Ava is really good at asking Beatrice what she might need and establishing in what plane their boundaries really exist. 

For example, when they skip pre-calculus in favor of making out in their bed (this is an exception, please), Ava is sure to ask Beatrice before she gets her hand anywhere close to Beatrice's jeans. 

Beatrice watches Ava breathless and mouth partly open above her, strands of hair falling to frame her face. 

Beatrice's tongue feels like it's been filled with sand, her hands like putty, her back like it's becoming one with the bed. 

“We could get caught,” Beatrice manages to get out. 

“We could go someplace else,” Ava suggests softly. “We can take my car and go somewhere for a bit.” 

Beatrice brings both hands to either side of her head to lay back against the pillow as in surrender. “Do you really want to do it that badly, Ava?” 

Ava shifts over her. “Do you not want to? Because it's okay if you aren't ready, Bea. I don't want it if you aren't ready.” There's no contempt or judgment in her voice. She asks casually as if Beatrice were asking for 5 extra minutes to finish her lunch. 

“Would that be fine? If I'm not ready?” 

“Of course, Bea. I'm even a little bit scared too. Feel.” She brings Beatrice's hand to her chest, and Beatrice feels her rapid heartbeat under it, rotund and rich. “It's no biggie. It's totally okay. We have the rest of our lives to do it.” 

Beatrice contemplates and whatever face she makes leads to Ava huffing a laugh and chuckling above her, eyes creased tenderly and lips pressed together into a forgiving smile.

Although sometimes life with Ava feels short. 

That night, Beatrice sleeps on the bottom bed while Scooby, bigger than ever, sleeps on the floor. 

Most of the night passes uneventfully with just a fan that rattles whenever it reaches a particular angle.

Beatrice is covered from neck to toe, mind stuck in between a state of sleep and one of restlessness as it often is for no reason whatsoever.

That is until Scoob barks, a thunderous sound followed by a growl that Beatrice has never heard before. She lifts her head. He bites the blanket off her. 

“Ava?” 

Beatrice looks down to Scooby to check because as Beatrice stands next to her sleeping frame, Ava looks perfectly normal as it is. 

He growls again and barks, front paws bouncing up as he does. 

And it happens. 

Life shortens without a preamble.

Beatrice gathers the pillows from her own bed. She places them along the rails and holds Ava's hand. She considers jumping in with her to hold her back, but Scooby keeps barking and Mary has started a timer and Lilith tries to keep Camila from bursting into tears in front of them. 

“It's okay, Ava. It's okay,” Beatrice repeats to panicked eyes. “It'll pass. I promise it'll pass.” 

5 minutes and 46 seconds later, it does, an eternity through which Beatrice feels like she has stood helpless the entire time. Her bones ache. She can't feel her hands, but she tries squeezing her girlfriend's fingers to remind her she is there and nothing can worsen after this. 

Exhausted, Beatrice jumps in with Ava and presses their bodies flush together. 

“It won't happen again,” she says, pressing kisses to her ear. “I promise it won't happen again.” Even though she can't make any promises like that, and, unconscious, Ava probably can't hear her. 

All Beatrice can do is cry while she hears Mary run towards the closest payphone to call for an ambulance and Lilith and Camila rush out to get Vincent and Suzanne.

“I love you. Dear God, Ava, I love you.”  

She holds onto Ava's shirt and breathes in. Doesn't let go until flashing red lights take her away.

***

The Salvius house lies empty. The tall ceilings and thick walls feel feeble with the echo that bounces off as Beatrice walks through them.

Unannounced and abruptly, the Salviuses sold the house. 

Whatever note or message they might have left for Beatrice likely got burned the minute it arrived. 

After Ava's health incident, the camp had to disclose Ava and Beatrice's relationship to Beatrice's parents, and Beatrice's parents - despite Beatrice putting up a series of fittings and casts around her hope and looking up to them with pleading eyes that she begged to evoke how much Ava means to her - scoffed.

Now, Beatrice stands in what was once Ava's bedroom, looking at the space that used to house the bed where they had their first kiss. 

She knows nothing about where Ava might be, but she hopes, at least, that she's comfortable and not scared and not thinking about Beatrice. She hopes she's merely focused on feeling well. 

One Sunday afternoon, her parents threaten Beatrice with boarding school, but Beatrice keeps her head down, doesn't speak, and gets good grades. She stops waiting by the phone. That gets them to stop looking at her. 

She doesn't go to camp for the next two years. Neither does Ava. Beatrice is sure she's also being a good kid.

She meets with Lilith every now and then. Camila sends her a letter every month. Mary joins the Marines and suggests Beatrice exercise drills to blow steam off anything pent up inside of her. 

Eventually, Beatrice moves east to get her degree. Those four years pass in the blink of an eye. She can't remember anything memorable about them. She doesn't grow. She doesn't shrink or become less, but she does get a dog, a golden doodle unwanted by his owners because he couldn't even learn how to sit. 

Baxter - Beatrice has no issues training him. 

She returns for the holidays, if anything, because her parents are getting old and she has nothing better to do with her time. 

Upon her return, Camila promptly informs her that Chippewa Camp is no longer a summer camp, but, rather, if she's willing to make the trip, an excellent place that can care for her dog while Beatrice is with her parents. 

She decides to do a trial 2 days before Christmas Day to see how Baxter likes it before fully committing to it. 

She gets the sense that he won't because the new owners of the campsite have torn down the place and the cabins no longer exist. Open spaces stand in their place with dozens of dogs, trainers, and toys. 

Baxter is an introvert and that combination of things sounds like his worst enemy. 

Nonetheless, exactly 4 hours later, a message lights up Beatrice's phone. 

She picks it up from the counter, ignoring her mother's complaints about how she should get a better job that does not involve long hours and allows her to buy some real estate. 

Beatrice promises she will give up avocado toast as she unlocks her phone to see a picture of Baxter, sitting straight with his red Christmas sweater, mouth agape as if smiling. Next to him, a much smaller and older dog does the same only he wears the ugliest puke-like green sweater Beatrice has ever seen. 

“It appears Baxter has made a new best friend!” The trainer texts. “ Scooby has been a little shy since he joined two months ago, but it appears they help each other get out of their shells .”

Beatrice is about to drop her phone when a second picture pops up: Baxter and Scooby, all snuggled up in a bed that is too small for them. 

“Did you hear anything I said?” Her mother asks, refilled wine glass held up in her hand. 

Beatrice clutches at her favorite sweater made of knitted wool with an asymmetrical design. Her therapist had recommended she start with boundaries having to do with clothes. 

“No,” Beatrice says. “I need to go pick up Baxter. He doesn't - he doesn't feel well.” 

By the time Beatrice gets back to the doggy daycare, an hour has gone by and she's sweating, a feat in such cold weather. She takes the same path her parents took through the gravel to sign her up for the now long-gone summer camp. 

The place smells different. Like fur and dog shampoo and dog toys that need cleaning. Beatrice is unsure if it smelled any better when a bunch of kids were running around. 

When she opens the door, it slams against the wall and a bell. It knocks a jar over. Dog treats fall close to Beatrice's boots.

She closes her eyes and breathes in, reminding herself why she's here. “Scooby uhm…” she starts with her eyes still closed, speaking in the direction she remembers the summer camp’s secretary's desk being. “Is his last name Silva?” Or - or Salvius. It could be Salvius.”

When she opens her eyes, Beatrice braces. The front desk clerk looks like they'll call the police on her. 

“I'm sorry,” she repeats. “I just came for Baxter. I'm sorry.” 

As she loads Baxter on the backseat, Beatrice decides she won't bring him again. His paws are muddy, and she's sure that if she brings him again, the staff will make sure that she's arrested. 

He starts to bark straight into Beatrice's face like he knows of this decision. “We'll find you a better place, and you'll make new friends,” she explains.

It's better that way. Right now, she has made up her mind that Ava is doing well. If she comes again and finds out Scooby is, in fact, Scooby and is here not because of old age but because there is no more use for him, Beatrice won't be able to handle it. 

Baxter whines. Almost at the same time, something tries to trample Beatrice by kicking her calf. 

Beatrice turns around to see Baxter’s new friend clad in green, now with antlers on his head, wagging his tail. 

“Beatrice?” 

She lifts her gaze. 

Beatrice is not glad to see Michael only because his presence edges too close to her worst fears. 

She stares as he processes the sight in front of him. Eventually, he rightfully concludes that Beatrice does not want a hug or to shake his hand, and bends down instead to attach a leash to Scooby. Straightening, he smiles like nothing could weigh him down. 

“How have you been?” he asks.

“I'm… perfectly fine.” She clenches her jaw and glances away. 

He stands much taller and more confidently now. Surely goes to the gym and has good luck at bars with the leather jacket he wears.

He tilts his head understandingly. “Do you want me to cut to the chase?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ava is in the car.” 

Beatrice might cry here, but she won't. She doesn't. Because she's always known Ava is fine even if Ava never called. She knows life just changed, but they still love each other regardless. Because even after all these years and all this silence and all this wondering, Ava has been the best of all the friends Beatrice has ever made and the people she has met. 

Ava's essence is etched into Beatrice's skin and in the way that she perceives the world. So Beatrice knows Ava is fine - she always hoped - because she can feel it. Otherwise, the sun would not come out, the sunflowers would not seek warmth, and she wouldn't be able to breathe. 

“Can she see me?” she asks, hiding her hands in her jacket. 

“I doubt so. I parked on the other side.” Michael points to it. A building stands in between. “Scooby followed you here.” 

Scoob lays down sideways on Beatrice's boots and lets out an exhausted breath. She's tempted to scratch his head and tell him he's a good boy, but Baxter might not like that, and she might ruin Scooby's antlers. Ava probably requested he wear them. 

“Do you want to see her?” Michael asks. 

Beatrice looks at him. “No. I'm not - I'm not ready. This is all - I wasn't expecting any of this to happen.” 

“That's okay.” It feels as though it is. Like this is the worst of it. “Shall I tell her I saw you?” 

Beatrice shakes her head. “Could you just give her my number?” 

“She'll ask how I got it.” 

“You'll tell her then, but I want her to make the decision to reach out first. If she wants to.”

Michael takes his phone out, a thin, almost translucent device that probably only belongs to the Salvius family. “Just beware.” He smiles as if he were picturing what he's about to reveal, cheeks turning pink. “She uses the voice-to-text function to get that kind of stuff done. Pretty unfiltered. She'll likely invite you to our little Christmas dinner. Hope you don't have any important plans in place. She still is fairly convincing.” 

Very familiar with Ava's unfiltered thoughts and her own propensity to give in to everything Ava says, Beatrice nods. She punches her number in and lets a cold breeze pass between them. 

She feels warm and safe, nonetheless, as relief slowly falls over her shoulders and caresses the back of her neck like autumn leaves in brown, orange, and deep yellow, knowing that Ava is near, and Scooby is wheezing on her feet.