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[center][color=52BF7C]Piper McAllister[/color][color=023020]...[/color][/center]
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The cabin looked like a tornado had rolled through sometime during the night. Scattered across the floor were old magazines of Tiger Beat, fashion catalogs, pages of celebrity quizzes crumpled beneath dangling socks and half-open duffel bags. Lip gloss and nail polish bottles cluttered every flat surface while the scent of fruity perfume still lingered thick in the warm summer air. The girls in 7E had stayed up most of the night whispering and laughing beneath flashlight glow, braiding each other’s hair, trading makeup, and arguing over which boy counselor was cutest. Piper had pretended to sleep through most of it, headphones in but no music playing, listening quietly from the safety of her bunk.

Her corner of the cabin was the complete opposite. Clothes folded neatly. Hiking boots lined perfectly beneath her bed. Sketchbook stacked squarely on top of her backpack. Every pencil sharpened and tucked into its case. Order made her feel calm, and although it was her third year at Wyaconda, the place still felt choatic. 

Long before sunrise, Piper slipped quietly from the cabin while everyone else slept tangled in blankets. The morning air was cool against her skin as she made her way down to Shady Lake. Mist hovered low over the water while the first streaks of orange and pink bled into the sky. Sitting cross-legged at the edge of the dock, Piper opened her sketchbook onto her knees and began drawing. The gentle ripple of water. The crooked pine trees. The reflection of sunrise across the lake. This was her favorite thing in the world. Moments when nobody expected anything from her except to exist quietly beside nature. After  sometime, the sharp clang of the breakfast bell echoed through camp. Piper blinked, surprised by how quickly time had passed. Sliding her pencil behind her ear, she closed the sketchbook carefully and stood. Slinging her bag over one shoulder, she headed up the winding dirt trail toward the dining hall. 

Camp was finally waking up around her. Cabin doors creaked open while sleepy campers shuffled along the paths in oversized hoodies and pajama pants. Counselors called good mornings from porches. The smell of bacon, syrup, and burnt toast drifted through the crisp air, making Piper realize just how hungry she was. The dining hall buzzed with noise when she stepped inside. Trays clattered, kids laughed too loudly, and every table seemed packed with campers talking over one another. 

Piper grabbed a tray and moved through the breakfast line quietly, taking pancakes, scrambled eggs, and a cup of orange juice before spotting the hand-painted 7E sign hanging above one of the long wooden tables. Most of the girls from her cabin were already there, still half exhausted from staying up all night. One braided another girl’s hair while someone else flipped through a magazine spread across the table beside a plate of waffles. 

Piper slid quietly into the empty spot near the end of the bench, setting her sketchbook carefully beside her tray. For a moment she simply listened, unnoticed in the chaos around her, taking small bites of pancakes while the sounds of Camp Wyaconda carried on all around her.
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