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[center][color=52BF7C]Piper McAllister[/color][color=023020]...[/color][/center]
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While the counselor had mentioned the example crafts around the room, it was really all about what they could do. Let the imagination run free so to speak. Piper took that to heart. She immediately went to the paint and paint brushes. Her step mother would never allow it in the house. Too risky and it could spill, she would mutter.  As she began her own little project, the craft cabin buzzed with conversation around her, girls laughing and talking as they worked on their projects. Every so often a burst of laughter would rise above the noise before fading back into the steady hum of activity. She dipped her brush into blue paint and carefully dragged it across the wooden panel in front of her. Piper decided to paint the view from the dock that morning. She tilted her head, studying the brushstrokes before adding a little more green along the shoreline.

Across the room, several girls from her cabin were gathered around the same table. They seemed completely at ease with one another despite only meeting three days ago. Piper watched them for a moment before looking back down at her project. Maybe they weren't as comfortable as they looked. Maybe everyone was pretending. Still, they made it look easy. She wasn't sure she'd ever been good at that sort of thing. At school she'd always had friends, but usually one or two close ones. The girls in her cabin seemed to operate in packs, constantly talking, constantly laughing, somehow always knowing the right thing to say. Piper usually thought of the right thing to say three hours later.

She added another stroke of paint to the water. Part of her wondered if the other girls thought she was weird. The girl who woke up before sunrise. The girl who carried a sketchbook everywhere. The girl who had spent breakfast drawing instead of talking. Maybe they thought she didn't want to be around them. The truth was she just never knew how to join in. Conversation felt a little like jumping onto a moving canoe. Everyone else seemed to know when to step in. Piper was always afraid she'd miss and end up in the water. A sudden burst of laughter pulled her attention back across the room. 

[I]”Do you think this looks more purple or blue?”[/I]

Piper blinked. For a second she wondered if they were talking to someone else. Then realized they were all looking at her. She glanced at the painted bracelet box being held up.

[color=52BF7C] "Blue," [/color] she answered. The girls immediately groaned.

[i]”I told you it was blue!" [/I]

[i]”No way, that's purple!”[/I]

The argument continued without missing a beat. Piper smiled despite herself and returned to her painting. The exchange lasted less than ten seconds. But somehow it made the room feel a little less intimidating. Maybe fitting in wasn't something that happened all at once. Maybe it happened in small pieces. She wasn't sure yet if the rest of the WildFlower cabin would become her friends. But as she sat among the sounds of conversation and laughter, adding sunlight to the painted lake on her wooden panel, she realized she wasn't feeling quite as alone as she had that morning. And for now, that was enough.
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