That's not the best part, though. 
                          
     The best part is the outside that my dad's black truck currently remains on the outskirts of. A small stone fire pit sits in the center of the backyard, but beyond that is a lake that they share ownership of with the neighbors beside them. However, there are no potentially obnoxious neighbors in sight. Instead, pine trees surround the whole area, secluding each house, and making it seem as if we are the only people in the world to know this place exists. It feels like we are the only people in existence. 
                          
     If only that were true. 
                          
     Instead, I'm just an intruder to this beautiful piece of nature with a degree that's nowhere near gynecology. A degree I spent way too much time on and would like to rip up into shreds just to spite the card stock piece of paper, but I won't. Only because with all my time came all my money, and I can't possibly let that go to waste. That statement is only meant to bitter some days, and today is one of those days. 
                          
     "Oh man, I forgot the chicken." My grandma's sigh has me glancing in the back of my dad's truck at all the camping stuff we managed to stuff back there. 
                          
     Although I like the idea of being isolated from the world for a little while, surrounded by nature in one of its purest, yet still slightly manmade settings, I wish Aubrey and Ben met on a spring break trip at some beach resort. Then I'd be chilling poolside with a possible piña colada. 
                          
     Instead, they met one summer when Aubrey went camping with a bunch of her friends and there was an accidental double booking of the same site with Ben and his friends. They decided to share the site, I suppose it was almost like love at first sight, and now here we are on a trip they planned for their families as almost a way to reminisce on their relationship before they officially tie the knot in a few weeks. 
                          
     "Usually mom says to bring cookies when we go to new place, but..." I trail off as I begin digging for the apparent chicken my grandma forgot, but she swats my hands away. 
                          
     "No, I mean, Chickee." 
                          
     "You mean Cluckie?" I squeak out the name, and my grandma solemnly nods.
                          
     "Yeah, I forgot to bring Chickee, but I also forgot to even leave him food, so now he's going to starve to death." 
                          
     "Dammit," my dad whispers, and I throw him a look. 
                          
     "I thought you out of all people would be happy to be rid of the chicken, one way, or another." 
                          
     "Well, yes, but..." He looks around to make sure my grandma isn't listening, and when he finds her and my mom talking and embracing Ben's dad's he continues. "My plan, or hope, was that the chicken could mistakenly be released back into the wild." 
                          
    My nose scrunches up. "But it's a farm animal." 
                          
     That's when those brown eyes I inherited zoom in on me completely. "It was either that, or an accidental roasting over the fire pit."
                          
    I visibly gulp at the image, but that only makes my dad grin and ignites the fire behind his eyes. A fire I silently pray I don't have when I'm set on something. 
                          
     "Hey, dad!" Aubrey skips over and gives my dad a hug before turning to me. 
                          
     Unlike the sadistic fire that was shining in my dad's eyes, Aubrey's eyes are shining in happiness. Her whole demeanor radiates her excitement, and I immediately find myself smiling because of it. 
                          
     "Did you bring your sleeping bag?" Aubrey wiggles her eyebrows, and my smile drops.
                          
     "My what?"