The sun peaked through the towering trees surrounding my partner’s yard, warming my skin. The air smelled of pine needles and smoke from the fire, and the gentle breeze kissed our faces. My friends erected a 12 by 26 ft two-room tent, which I tracked mud inside right away. My cheeks turned pink when I realized this, but I ran and grabbed rags and cleaned it up.

There was a teenager there, and he helped. Afterwards, he climbed a tree. Our friend raised his eyebrows at him and said, “Aren’t you getting a little old to be climbing trees?”

I said, “You’re never too old to be climbing trees.”