"ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ꜱᴀʀᴀʜ ꜰɪᴇʀ ʜᴇʀꜱᴇʟꜰ."
Lorraine "Lorra" Hill, best friend of Ziggy Berman, unexpectedly attends Camp Nightwing in 1978. She can't stand Sunnyvalers, and Nick Goode is no exception, but somehow... he keeps...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ACT ONE
HOURS AFTER OUR chores were completed, Ziggy and I were in our cabin. Convincing her to factor in the bonfire to her plan wasn't easy, but I had managed to do it. It was the last place she wanted to be, but she knew I needed to be selling. This bonfire was prime time for smoking weed, so it only made sense...
What didn't is my other reason for wanting to show up.
I couldn't stop thinking about what Nick had said to me earlier... and secretly - and most of all stupidly - I did want to talk to him again. Part of me told myself it was to verify that the one pleasant conversation was just a fluke so I could put it out of my head once and for all.
The other part that I kept trying to ignore just wanted to see him smiling at me again. It made me feel... oddly special.
I was already dressed. I decided to wear a white flowy v-neck blouse and a black skirt. I was loosely tying my thick brunette hair into pigtails and tightening the last one when Ziggy drew my attention to her side of the room. "Okay, so let's go over the plan one more time," Ziggy said as she slipped into a graphic black t-shirt paired with her denim shorts.
"We take the camp flag from the flagpole. We sneak past Cindy and Tommy in the Mess Hall so that we can make it to the woods without being seen," I elaborate from memory.
Ziggy nods confidently, commenting a quick, "Yes. Beautiful so far. Go on." And using her hand to wave it as a gesture to continue.
With a snort, I keep going, although my voice gives away the obvious weaknesses to the second phase of the night,"Then, we stealthily make it into the biggest party of the summer for Sunnyvalers and Shadysiders alike without being seen so that we can somehow get the flag into the bonfire. Again, without being seen."
"Well, we've given it an hour since that bullshit started. They've got to be wasted by now, right?" Ziggy reasons aloud. My face remains skeptical, but nonetheless, hopeful.
I shrug a shoulder up and state the obvious. "My mother is an alcoholic. Her tolerance after fifteen straight years in the bottle is up here," I pause and raise my hand high over my head before finishing,"so how would I know?"
Ziggy's lips purse at my unsure tone and unhelpful response. She rolls her eyes and flails her arms outwards while reminding me,"The party was your suggestion, Lorra. I'm working as we go."
