“Yeah, but you were the one who was like ‘It can’t get worse, nothing is worse than this.’” I gesture to the tent and pile of supplies. “This is worse, Scottie. This is way worse.”

“Do you really think they’re just going to leave us out here?”

“Uh, yeah. They were going to leave us in a boat. What makes you think this is any different? It’s why he took off. Do you think he forgot something and is coming back?”

She folds her arms across her chest. “You know, you don’t have to be so sarcastic.”

“Well, you don’t have to ask ridiculous questions. Of course they left us out here. They…they parent-trapped us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Have you ever seen the movie?”

“Of course I have. I’m just surprised you have.”

“Don’t be sexist,” I say.

Her eyes narrow. “I wasn’t being sexist. I was surprised you’ve seen it given the emo vibe you give off.”

“This is not an emo vibe. This is me being me.”

“It’s emo.”

“Stop,” I say and then take a deep breath. “They parent-trapped us. This is what they did to Lindsay Lohan. They sequestered her away from camp until they got along again. That’s what they’re doing to us.”

“That’s not parent-trapped. Parent-trapped is when you trick your divorced parents into being close together.”

“Jesus fuck, the technicalities don’t matter. Can’t you see what they’re doing?”

“Yes, but I think it’s good to have it on record that I know the proper term for parent-trapped.”

“You’re…impossible,” I say in a seething tone and then walk over to the packed-up tent to start unzipping it.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I ask. “I’m setting up the tent.”

“You don’t actually believe that we have to sleep here…” Her voice trails off. “Oh my God, do you think this is the tent they were talking about last night?”

“If they were, not sure why they wanted this form of torture. Couldn’t think of anything worse than having to share a tent with you tonight.”

“Aren’t you pleasant?” she asks as she sits down on a log.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I ask.

“Uh, sitting.”

“Do you plan on sleeping in this tent tonight?”

“Yes,” she says.

“Then I suggest you come over here and help me set it up.”

“Well, I see chivalry is dead.” She stands from the log and walks over to me.

“This isn’t a chivalrous thing to do. This is team bonding, and isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing? Team bonding?”

“We’re supposed to be in our sex cabin, getting ready for dinner. That’s what we’re supposed to be doing.”