When we reconvene in the clearing, Colson’s already constructed a pit using a bunch of hefty stones. “Nice,” I say, impressed. “Thanks. I’m a pro at this. My family goes camping a lot. And not fake camping, like G’s family. They’re all like, we’re roughing it and then rent a mansion in Lake Tahoe. Nope. My family needs to be sleeping on literal rocks, or my dad says it doesn’t count.” I can’t fight my laughter. Then it fades when I realize by “G’s family,” he’s referring to the Grahams. Meaning he’s likely spent a lot of time with them. Gigi brought him around her family. And here I am,
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