Storm Signals

My iphone buzzed for the third time in five minutes, but I resisted checking it. Summer camp supposed to be detox, but my FOMO was real. What if my friends were hanging without me?

"You've got that look," Chloe said, dropping onto the log beside me. "The 'I'm missing everything' look."

I sighed. Chloe had been my camp best friend since we were twelve, back when our biggest worry was who got the top bunk. Now we were fifteen, and everything felt heavier.

She grabbed my hand, studying my palm like it contained the answers to the universe. "Your lifeline's deeper than last year," she murmured. "That means you're becoming more intense. More YOU."

"Or I'm just stressing about high school," I said.

Before she could respond, a wet nose nudged my knee. Buster, the camp's ancient golden retriever, appeared from nowhere, tail thumping like a metronome. He collapsed across my feet, sighing dramatically.

"Buster knows," Chloe said. "Animals sense when you're carrying too much."

Down by the lake, a baseball game was starting. Jake from our cabin was pitching, his face scrunched in concentration. I'd been crushing on him all summer - which was ridiculous, since I'd barely spoken two words to him.

"Go talk to him," Chloe said, reading my mind.

"I can't just-"

"Sam." She squeezed my hand. "Your palm literally screams 'brave' right now. Live up to it."

I stood up, heart pounding, and walked toward the game. Jake spotted me and grinned. "Want to play? We need a fielder."

"Sure," I said, like my insides weren't doing cartwheels.

We played for twenty minutes, laughing whenever someone missed. Jake kept teasing me about my "epic fails," but his eyes were kind. The air felt electric, charged with possibility.

Then someone screamed.

We all turned. A massive black bear stood at the tree line, thirty feet away, watching us. Someone's iphone chimed with a notification, absurdly loud in the sudden silence.

"Everyone, back away slowly," a counselor shouted, her voice shaking.

Jake reached for my hand without thinking. Our palms pressed together, warm and real. The bear watched us retreat, then turned and lumbered back into the forest.

Only when we were safe did I let myself breathe. Jake didn't let go of my hand.

"That was intense," he said softly.

"Yeah."

"Hey," - he looked down at me - "wanna sit by the lake tonight? No phones. Just... hanging out?"

I thought about my buzzing iphone back at the cabin, about the notifications I was missing. Then I squeezed his hand back.

"Definitely."