She glances at me as she pulls into Camp Smileshine, beneath a huge-ass sign of a bear smiling like it’s high on mushrooms. It looks like the kind of place a mass murder would go down in a slasher flick, and I say so. “I think we need to rename it from Camp Nightmare to Murderland.” She takes a look around as she pulls in, and says, “That tracks. But I heard there’s a gazebo on the lake. There was one near our house in Raleigh, and it was my favorite place in the world.” Her gaze darts to me before returning to the windshield. “You know, the people who have sex always die first in horror
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