The Cedarville Review 2024

THE CEDARVILLE REVIEW 55 “You look awful,” I said, slamming my plate of runny eggs down across from Pat the next morning. He rolled his eyes back and stuck his tongue out. “Stop making that face Pat, I’m gonna hurl.” Sean joined us at the table, smacking Pat on the back of the head. “What's got you in such a good mood?” “Shut up, Niki.” “Chill, Sean,” Pat snapped. “He’s just sour ‘cause the counselor said he had to move to the top bunk.” “Why?” “Because,” Sean answered, shooting a look at Pat. “Some little pip-squeak’s afraid he’s going to fall off the top bunk, so they’re making us switch.” Pat and I stayed quiet. “I gotta get out of here, I’m too old to be here anyway.” Sean grimaced, swirling his watery orange juice. “What if we broke out?” Pat looked at us like he had just saved the world. “How are you going to do that, Einstein, phase through the gate?” Pat threw an egg at me. “I wasn’t thinking about the gate, moron.” I huffed and crossed my arms. “I was thinking about going out around the fence down at the lake. It's only like three feet deep where it ends.” “Mom’s gonna beat the tar out of you.” Sean got up and walked away. My stomach sank the same way it had when all those frogs started climbing up the walls, then I started thinking about being forced to make camp crafts, play camp games, sing camp songs, and swim in the camp ‘lake.’ “I’m in, Pat. What’s the plan?”