The class start bell resonated with a clang, just as the morning chaos of the classroom reached its peak and cross-conversations were at their best.
"Order, order, boy! Come on, to your places, knowledge awaits us!"
Mr. Harrison, the history teacher, burst into the room with that nervous energy that characterized him, shaking a bundle of papers that surely contained the lesson plan.
In his mid-forties, his hairline was fighting a losing battle against his forehead, but his enthusiasm seemed immune to the passage of time and the adolescent apathy he faced daily.
"Alright, silence please," he said, leaning theatrically on his desk once the general murmuring dropped to an acceptable level. "Before we dive into the soporific details of the Civil War, I have an announcement that, frankly, I think you'll be quite a bit more interested in."
He paused dramatically, and several students straightened in their seats.
"This year's summer camp activity, the one the school board has taken forever to approve, is finally decided! And the destination will be... drumroll, please... Crystal Lake Camp!"
!
A murmur of approval ran through the class, quickly escalating into a burst of cheers and whistles.
For most of those present, "summer camp" was synonymous with campfire nights, supervised freedom away from parents, and that intoxicating cocktail of teenage hormones and bug spray.
In the middle of the uproar, Leif remained motionless.
Crystal Lake?
The name gave him a chill. He looked up from the notebook where he had been doodling, with an arched eyebrow. It couldn't be that Crystal Lake, could it? The name was too iconic.
If his vast horror movie knowledge didn't fail him, that was precisely the hunting ground of a certain mama's boy with a weakness for hockey masks and an impeccable work ethic when it came to using machetes.
Jason Voorhees.
Just thinking the name made the idea of a camp sound infinitely more attractive than any demon trapped in a mirror.
"Listen up, listen up!" Harrison had to raise his voice above the collective excitement. "It will be a full week, the final fee is three hundred dollars, which, believe me, is a bargain because it includes the bus, accommodation, and all scheduled activities."
He began scribbling the registration information on the whiteboard, his marker squeaking rhythmically against the surface. "However, and this is important, spaces are limited. Very limited. So don't rest on your laurels. The permission forms will be here, on my desk, at the end of class. First come..."
He hadn't even finished the sentence when a hand shot up. Leif's hand.
The murmuring suddenly died down. All heads, including Mr. Harrison's, turned in unison toward Leif Connor.
The teacher blinked, visibly thrown off, stopping his writing mid-word.
"Leif? You... want the form?"
"Of course, Mr. Harrison," Leif replied, his calm voice brutally contrasting with the sudden silence of the classroom. "Why wouldn't I?"
Harrison adjusted his glasses, perplexed.
In his mind, and probably everyone else's there, Leif Connor was the archetype of the star student: more interested in extra credit and spending weekends at the library than in outdoor group activities involving mud and camp songs.
The midday buzz was deafening.
The burger joint across the street from the school was absolutely packed, a chaotic sea of students released for lunch. The air smelled of hot grease and that teenage perfume that is half deodorant and half anxiety.
With a considerable dose of evasive maneuvering and subtle pushing, Leif's group managed to secure a coveted table by the window, just seconds before another group.
"Wait, rewind," Jennifer said, pausing for a moment from chewing the straw of her soda. "Did you just say you actually signed up for the Crystal Lake thing?"
That day she wore a crop top so tight it looked painted onto her torso, a garment that defined an explosive figure and left absolutely nothing to the imagination, drawing sideways glances from half the restaurant.
"Why not? Sounds fun," Leif replied with his mouth half full. He shoved a massive bite of his double cheeseburger into his mouth, savoring the glorious chaos of meat and melted sauces.
"Fun?" Frank, across the table, pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. The thick lenses caught the greasy reflection of the restaurant's fluorescent lights. "Dude, did you even Google it before signing up? 'Fun' is not exactly the word I would use."
"I checked it out this morning, and over the last few decades, there have been a number of serious incidents. Murders, accidents, you name it. The locals have a nickname for it: 'The Bloody Camp.' It was closed for years. This is literally the first time they've reopened it to the public."
Leif almost smiled, finishing his chewing. "Exactly. Doesn't that make it even more exciting?" He leaned across the table, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "With a bit of luck, we might even run into something paranormal."
"You're completely crazy," Jennifer and Anita mumbled almost in unison, the second as an echo of the first.
"So I assume you guys aren't going?" Leif scanned the group with his gaze.
Jennifer let out a theatrical sigh. "Even if I wanted to, I can't." She made an exaggerated pout. "My dad has a medical seminar in New York that same week and has decided that I must go with him to, and I quote, 'broaden my horizons.' In other words, deadly boredom."
As expected, Anita, her loyal follower, shook her head in solidarity. If Jennifer wasn't going, neither was she.
"Frank? Man of science?"
"I have to go to my mom's house during these holidays," Frank shrugged, resigned. "You know the deal. Vacations in a divorced family are precisely scheduled since January."
Leif's gaze finally rested on Carrie, who had remained silent in the corner of the table, methodically shredding a french fry with her fingers.
The girl felt the weight of the sudden silence and looked up. The fry she was holding crumpled under the nervous pressure of her fingers.
"Carrie," Leif said, his tone softening noticeably, "do you want to come?"
"I..." Carrie's eyes jumped from Jennifer to Anita, who were looking at her curiously, and then back to Leif. She bit her lip, visibly hesitating for a long second.
The noise of the restaurant seemed to fade away. Finally, she swallowed, took a breath, and nodded, first gently and then more decisively. "Yes. I... I want to go."
Since the incident that bonded her with Leif, although her personality remained visibly introverted, something had changed. It was a firmness in the way she held her gaze, a determination that hadn't existed before.
She wanted, needed, to break out of that shell of insecurity that had defined her.
"Then it's decided!" Leif snapped his fingers. "The Crystal Lake exploration duo is officially formed."
"..."
Jennifer stopped playing with her straw and her smile slowly vanished as her gaze bounced between a smiling Leif and a Carrie who, suddenly, had intensely red cheeks.
A strange, almost indecipherable expression settled in Jennifer's eyes.
...
The walk back home from school was bathed in the golden light of the sunset. They walked in comfortable silence, a marked contrast to the tension of the school hallways, until Leif broke the calm, his tone deliberately casual.
"So... how's the training going? Any progress?"
Hearing his question, Carrie's usual shyness seemed to evaporate, replaced by a pride that lit up her eyes.
"Much better," she said, and a small smile formed on her lips. "I don't... I don't lose control just because I get angry or scared anymore. I'm controlling it. In fact, yesterday... I think I moved the fire hydrant at the end of the street."
Leif raised both eyebrows, genuinely impressed. "The fire hydrant? Carrie, that's... incredible. Those things weigh a ton."
"Yeah, well," she said, looking at the ground, but the smile didn't disappear, "And... there's something else."
She stopped, forcing him to stop too.
She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip, debating internally.
Finally, she seemed to make a decision. She rummaged in her jacket pocket and pulled out a simple lighter.
With a click, a small orange flame emerged.
But then, Leif watched fascinated as Carrie, with a gesture of her other hand, transferred the flame from the wick to the palm of her hand.
The fire detached from the metal and floated an inch from her skin, dancing quietly. With concentration, she began to mold it, turning it into a small bird of fire that beat its wings.
"Wow..." Leif whispered, "Telekinesis is one thing, but this... this is fine control. You're manipulating pure energy, not just matter."
"I figured it out on my own," she admitted, her face softly illuminated by her own creation, a slight blush on her cheeks that wasn't just from the heat, "It feels more natural than moving those huge objects."
"Carrie, that's not just talent," Leif said, his voice filled with sincere amazement. "That's something else entirely."
Hearing his praise, Carrie's smile became radiant. The firebird gave a cheerful hop in her palm before extinguishing without a trace.
"..."
Leif stood looking at her for a second, seeing the confidence that small demonstration had given her.
He looked around: the street was empty, bathed in twilight. To their left, a dense grove marked the beginning of the park, its shadows already deep and welcoming.
A sudden idea seized him.
He smiled back at her, but his was different, "That was incredible. Now... do you trust me?"
"What?" she responded, confused by the sudden change of subject.
"Trust me. Come here." Instead of grabbing her, Leif simply held out his hand. She looked into his eyes, searching for something, and after a second of hesitation, she placed her hand in his.
He squeezed hers gently and guided her off the sidewalk, toward the inside of the small grove, stopping in a clear patch.
"Alright," he said, his voice now low and excited in the stillness of the woods, "Don't be scared. And whatever you do, don't let go of me."
"Don't let go? Of wh—?"
Swish
She couldn't finish the sentence when an invisible but unmistakable force enveloped her, not as a tug, but as a sudden and absolute lightness. The ground moved away from her feet.
Carrie let out a cry, a sound of pure disbelief rather than fear, and her eyes snapped shut. Her instinctive reaction was to cling to the only solid thing in her universe: she lunged forward, wrapping both arms around Leif's neck, her body pressed tightly against his as they both began to lift gently above the ground.
"You're not going to fall. Trust me, Carrie. Open your eyes and look."
Leif's voice sounded right next to her ear, a calm vibration that somehow managed to cut through the panic gripping her.
She, who had clung to him with her eyes closed and her face pressed against his shoulder, obeyed. She tremblingly opened a slit between her eyelashes, and what she saw stole her breath.
!
Her eyes sprang open, reflecting a scene her brain could barely process; the ground was moving away.
They were ascending, enveloped in a current of invisible power that lifted them with incredible smoothness.
The trees of the forest beneath their feet were already shrinking, rapidly merging into a dense carpet of deep green.
The wind, stronger at this altitude, gently roared in her ears, not as a threat, but as a song, lifting her hair and making it dance around their faces in the twilight.
In the distance, the houses, streets, and cars had shrunk to the size of toys scattered in a diorama, and for the first time in her life, the entire view of the small town unfolded before her.
The terrifying sensation of weightlessness that had chilled her stomach did not disappear abruptly, but was slowly eclipsed by an overwhelming wave of wonder and a freedom she had never dreamed of.
"This... this is..." she stammered, unable to form a complete sentence.
"It's just what you already do," Leif's voice came crisp and assured beside her, anchoring her in reality, "It's the same ability. Instead of whispering to a flame, you're shouting at gravity. It's flying."
Little by little, Carrie felt the knot of terror in her chest dissolve, replaced by a warmth that spread through her veins.
Her hands, which had been squeezing Leif's neck with white-knuckled force, loosened. With a caution that rapidly transformed into confidence, she released her grip and spread her arms, opening them to the sky like a bird that finally dares to trust its own wings.
The cold wind slipped between her fingers, a sensation so real that it made her giggle.
All the shadow that usually weighed on her heart, the constant teasing at school, her mother's oppressive expectations... in that instant, as she watched the world shrink beneath her feet, all those problems seemed to become as small and insignificant as the distant landscape.
She turned her head, her eyes moist from the wind and emotion, to look at the boy who had made this possible, the boy who was next to her.
The last rays of the setting sun bathed him, painting a brilliant golden outline on his profile.
His eyes, which usually sparkled with mischief, seemed now to reflect the radiance of the entire sky, deeper, calmer, and more intense than she had ever seen them.
And right at that moment, Carrie's heart skipped a beat so violently that she felt it stop in the air.
________
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