Musically Gifted? Well, I Used to Play the Recorder...

Sixteen: Cupid, You Need to Work on Your Aim

Sixteen: Cupid, You Need to Work on Your Aim

Straight after the mentally scarring and mortifying incident that I will never speak of again, I head to Savannah’s cabin.

            This is partly because she always knows what to do in these kinds of situations, but also due to the fact that mental support is greatly required at the current moment in time. It’s kind of required a lot, actually, but this is probably why Savannah’s so good at it. She’s used to me humiliating myself almost constantly, especially after committing to being my best friend for the best part of ten years.

            I swear, she must have the patience of a saint.

            All is quiet as I hasten up the stairs of the porch. The girls from Harmony Cabin must be down at the rec room or something, because no sound greets my ears, even when I am standing directly outside the door.

            It’s not locked; I let myself in. Even when I enter the cabin and close the door behind me, no sound greets my ears. This seems strange for me, but that may be because I’ve been living in a noise-filled environment for the past week, where quietness is a rare privilege. Savannah’s kids happen to be some of the best behaved in the camp. It’s alright for some.

            “Savannah?”

            I frown slightly when there is no response.

            Once I am inside, I am kind of surprised at the appearance of the cabin. Are other people’s really this tidy? I thought it was normal for clothes to be strewn over every inch of floor, and for it to be a miracle if the beds are made. As I look around Savannah’s cabin, it occurs to me that this might just not be the case.

            But seriously? Getting the boys to tidy up is an impossible task.

            A road that I would rather not venture down.

            “Savannah?” I call again, a little louder this time. The main cabin is empty, but suddenly the sound of muffled speech greets my ears, originating from behind the door to Savannah’s room.

            I hasten over towards it, grabbing the handle and pushing it so the door swings open. Instantly, my eyes are drawn to Savannah, who is sitting on her bed. But the thing that strikes me the most is that she is not alone.

            She and Danny spring apart immediately, barely giving me the opportunity to register how close they were sitting before I interrupted. “Bailey?”

            “Oh, um, sorry...”

            Well, this is awkward. At least I hadn’t caught them in a full on make out session, but from the looks of things, they were getting pretty close to each other. In hindsight, I probably should’ve knocked.

            I should really start thinking things through a little more.

            “Bailey! I wasn’t, um, expecting you...”

            Savannah’s cheeks are flushed pink, the rose shade infiltrating her perfectly tan skin.

            “It’s okay, I can come back later…”

            I pivot one hundred and eighty degrees on my heel, ready to exit Savannah’s room and leave the couple alone to complete their unfinished business (which, I have a feeling, includes their lips pressed against one another’s). It’s only when I am just about to take the first step that I feel a hand on my shoulder.