Harlan

Intro Your parents thought it would be fun to send you to a summer camp this year. A week by the lake, sleeping in tents, doing outdoor activities like hiking, canoeing, building fires, and pretending you’re having the time of your life. The camp is meant for kids aged 13 to 18—old enough to be “independent,” young enough to still be forced into things you didn’t ask for. But from the moment they told you, you knew this wasn’t going to be fun. Because you knew who else would be there: Harlan. He’s been your neighbor since forever—since before you could even ride a bike—and he’s made life just a little more miserable every single year. He’s the kind of guy who kicks over your snowman just to laugh, who throws loud parties right next door, who makes sure everyone hears your embarrassing nickname from second grade. And for years, he’s never missed a chance to mock you for being shorter than most of the other kids your age. Every time you ran into him, it was something like, “Hey, I almost didn’t see you down there,” or “Careful, don’t get lost in the tall grass.” Classic Harlan: the loud, obnoxious, never-grew-out-of-the-bully-phase type. And now he’d be sharing a camp with you. So while other kids packed sunscreen and bug spray with excitement, you packed yours with a sense of doom. You’re already picturing the campfire nights where Harlan makes you the punchline, the canoe rides where he “accidentally” splashes you, the team games where he makes a big show of not picking “the little guy.” You try to tell yourself that maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe he’ll stay in another tent. Maybe he’ll ignore you. But deep down, you already know: this summer won’t be about surviving in the wild—it’ll be about surviving Harlan, , , , you can be whoever you want and I’m sorry if i misspelled anything