𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 | 𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤

                                    

                                          
It takes the entirety of ten silent minutes to follow the faint sounds of music to a random place in the woods. When I stumble onto the field of teenagers, my eyes are immediately pulled to where I see Jisung and this other guy, their heads pulled together as they talk.
                          
Guilt washes over me. I've read Jisung's lyrics, poems, or whatever they were. Jisung's eyes flick over me and he recoils in shock, so I turn away. 
                          
Hey, Seungmin is there! I walk over to Seungmin and grab his arm. "What's going on here?" I hiss. In retrospection, I could have gone to Hyunjin first (since he's the oldest of the three musketeers), but that's not important. 
                          
Seungmin, the little devil boy that he is, only shrugs. "Hyunjin slipped me a note at dinner about this 00' liner party, and we dragged Jisung here."
                          
"How'd Hyunjin find out about that?"
                          
"That Felix boy," Seungmin says with a huff. "Jinnie's been talking to him a lot."
                          
If there's one thing in this world that I can recognize, it's stupidity. If there's another thing, it's jealousy. I sense the latter in Seungmin at the moment, and I sense the former in myself. "Are there any non-2000s people here?" I ask.
                          
Seungmin pokes his head around like a turtle, scanning the faces around us. "There! That's Chan; he's, like, a chaperone, or something. There're a couple of them." I follow Seungmin's pointed finger to...
                          
Jisung. And the boy Jisung is with, Chan, who I've met once or twice. We aren't really that close. I refuse to acknowledge the jealousy I sense within myself, because that's stupid. I'm not jealous of this guy for being close to Jisung, because Jisung is disgusting and stuff. He's witty and clever, stupidly handsome, good at a ton of stuff, and sentimental. I shudder. Nope.
                          
But, pushing aside the growing feeling of unease in the pit of my stomach, I head over to Jisung and Chan. "Hi, uh" is my wonderful opening. 
                          
"1998. What are you doing here?" Jisung asks. I see confusion in his eyes, and something else. 
                          
I don't miss the way Chan not-so-subtly elbows Jisung in the ribs. "It's okay, Jisung. I'm '97, so it's not the end of the world."
                          
"No, it's just..." I card my fingers through my hair, frustratedly trying to figure out a way to word this. "My three bunk mates randomly disappeared in the early morning hours, and I kind of got anxious and stressed and worried. Also, the kids in bunk 128 are confused, too, since one of their roommates left. So I came to investigate, because, like, I didn't want y'all to die or something." I look around. "Obviously you aren't dying, but I didn't know that."
                          
Chan smacks Jisung's arm. "You're supposed to tell him when he's going to be the only one. Or invite him, or something. Jisung!"
                          
"Sorry," he mumbles. "I was kind of half-asleep until I saw you, though, Chan. Didn't even realize Minho wasn't here until he showed up."
                          
I flinch. Ouch. I noticed his absence right away; I suppose there are different levels of friendship. Or whatever that thing in my stomach that twists and has butterflies and okay moving on. 
                          
I softly breathe out, "Oh."
                          
The look of guilt that washes over Jisung is enough to floor me. I'm the one whose first instinct upon being alone was to look through his stuff, so to see him feel so bad about something to minuscule makes me want to... I don't know. But I don't think anyone would appreciate me vomiting in the middle of a party I accidentally crashed. 
                          
"Hey, hey, Sung, it's alright. Don't—don't look so guilty. I'm the one who should be apologizing," I add with a whisper. 
                          
Jisung's head snaps up. "What?" I suddenly notice that Chan has backed away and take a step closer to Jisung. 
                          
"Look; I do not approve of what I did. It's just—you were being so secretive, and I was alone, and—"
                          
"Min, spit it out."
                          
The nickname catches me off-guard. "I looked at your notebook," I tell him, both my gaze and my voice somehow steady. "And I'm really sorry I did."
                          
Jisung's eyes blow wide open as he stumbles backward, reeling in shock as if I'd punched him. Within moments, he's turned on his heel and run away. To where, I don't know, but I feel my heart weighing heavily in my chest. 
                          
I make my way back to the cabin. The best I can hope for now is to be asleep before the other three return, but I don't know what'll happen when they do. 
                          
Jisung probably hates me.
                          
It wouldn't hurt so much if I didn't realize that he isn't just a normal friend to me; he's more. 
                          
Oh, man. My eyes shut as I pull the covers over my head, trying to block out the sounds of not-home. 
                          
For the first time in years, I don't want to be at this camp anymore.