Finals. With them came a sense of dread. When you were done with them all, it was a massive relief, but from the week before they were done to the moment you leave the final testing room, it was just a matter of... well, living. Studying and then distracting yourself from the stress of maybe not doing well.

But at the end of the final day, Baseball was always relieved. It was all done and over with, after all.

He'd just been catching up on the week's baseball highlights when he got a triple-U knock on the door from a visitor: uninvited, unannounced, and ungodly in hour. He groaned thinly as he rose to answer it.

It was unwelcome, unappreciated, unacceptable...

Unequivocally, Lightbulb. Nobody else had the lack of restraint that she did. If it was indeed Lightbulb, the visit was suddenly a great deal more usual and less unexpected.

Ultimately, he always opened his door for Lightbulb.

"Lightbulb, it's ten thirty at night. What do you need?"

Lightbulb came in without being invited, shaking droplets of rain off herself. "Oh, nothing much. I just have something I wanna talk about."

"Something that can't wait until tomorrow? Or be texted to me?"

"It's super exciting!" she replied, practically running for the TV to mute it. "It's about summertime."

"Okay." He shut the door. "What about them?"

"You tell me yours first!"

'...She's a strange one,' he thought as he sat at the coffee table across from her. He counted his lucky stars he'd already cleaned, then answered, "Well, I was thinking of doing an internship at the fitness center this summer. I could lose some weight and help people all at the same time."

"I'm here to tell you, nah. You're not spending your summer doing community service," Lightbulb replied, crossing her arms. "I have something way better that we can both do."

He stared at her questioningly. She slid a flier across the table to him. It was extremely colorful and made of glossy paper.

"'Camp Inanimate summer camp,'" he read. "'The most exciting place to be for kids and teens, a sleepaway camp filled with adventure'... We're a little past the intended demographic for this, don't you think?"

Lightbulb pointed at a caption at the bottom.

"...'Now looking for camp counsellors for the 11-14 demographic,'" he read. "With 'counsellors' misspelled. So wait, you're saying that we should apply?"

Lightbulb grinned. "Yep! We could hang out all summer and get paid for it. Definitely beats getting all sweaty working in people's attics or donating all the time to charity. You game?"

'Well, this internship could help me get into graduate school. It would give me the enriching experience of helping people just like me live healthier lifestyles, and the opportunity to lose weight. Middle-schoolers are the worst kinds of people.'

Lightbulb was smiling at him.

The answer was obvious.

XXX

"Not too shabby of a place, eh?"

"Not too shabby" was the only positive thing that could be said for the campgrounds, to put it mildly. There were four different building materials that all clashed, to start: wood, canvas, concrete, and metal. The only thing made of metal, though, was a huge, ominous metal box that sat on the far side of camp with a gaping hole in its side. The cabins looked like they were slouching beneath their own roofs.

"It looks a lot different from the website."

Lightbulb turned to him with a Christmas-morning grin. "It's better than I could have ever imagined!"

Baseball could imagine a tumbleweed passing through the place. "...Really?"

"Totally! If it doesn't look like what's on the flier, that means everything's an adventure! We don't know what's inside any of these buildings, and that makes me lose my marbles with excitement!"

'That's a really good way of looking at it,' Baseball mentally admitted. "As long as the food isn't too gross. This place looks kind of like it has roaches, don't you think?"

"It just means our little buggy buddies are along for the ride too," Lightbulb replied cheerily. "Can't discriminate against 'em just because they're insects. What do you have against thoraxes, huh?"

'They're super creepy health hazards. It's perfectly legit to hate them!'

"This place could have surprises lurking around every corner, and we wouldn't even know it."

Lightbulb's eyes twinkled. "Now that's the spirit! We gotta go talk to the boss ASAP so we can explore. We have no time to waste."

It wasn't hard to tell which building belonged to Campmaster MePhone 4; it was the best-kept, newest-looking one, after all. When Lightbulb knocked, the door was opened by the push of a button.

MePhone sat at a desk surrounded by and wearing Camp Inanimate memorabilia. A plate of cookies sat at its edge.

"Hello! I take it you're the new suckers- I mean, camp counsellors?"

"You know it!" Lightbulb reached for a cookie, MePhone slapped her hand.

"Excellent... And you'll work for minimum wage?"

Baseball opened his mouth to protest. Lightbulb cut across, "'Course we are. You're giving us three meals a day and room and board; there's nothin' else two college students could need to spend it on."

"That's right. This is great! You'll start first thing tomorrow. In the meantime," he handed Lightbulb a set of keys, "Your room is next to the contestant cabins. The key's marked with the green tape."

"Wait, 'room'? Sir, are you saying we have to share a room?"

"Obviously," MePhone 4 replied. "The campers do, so why shouldn't the counsellors?"

Lightbulb shrugged. "Not like I have a problem with it. Basey and I don't bite."

"You seriously don't see a problem with this, boss? We're college-aged and of the opposite gender; it seems like a recipe for disaster."

"Gee, aren't you a prude?" Lightbulb reached for the plate of cookies on his desk; MePhone 4 slapped her hand away as he continued, "I'd treat you the same if you were both guys or both girls. Your generation loves equality, so I'm avoiding lawsuits."

"Usually these places aren't co-ed for a reason."

MePhone 4 slapped Lightbulb's hand away again as he took a cookie. "Sheesh. If you're that shy about it, you need this valuable experience. Whether you like girls or guys, you need to get used to living with them."

"But-"

"Don't listen to him, Mr. Phone." Lightbulb put an arm around him. "He and I are closer than cats and catnip. We'll be-" She began stretching her arm towards the plate of cookies once again; MePhone slapped her hand again. "Fine," Lightbulb finished a little sourly. "We'll be the best counsellors you ever had. Right, Baseball?"

"...Right."

'This is gonna be a hard summer to have a crush on Lightbulb during, isn't it?'

XXX

It felt so strange to walk into the same room as Lightbulb with the knowledge that they were sleeping together. Okay, not together together, but in beds adjacent to one another.

It shouldn't have been, but it really, really was.

Even on the second day he felt awkward.

'Good thing I'm the only one.'

Lightbulb ran in and leapt into the single office chair in the room. It was cheap and nearly fell from the force of her enthusiasm.

"Day one, and I love being camp counsellor!"

Besides a single dresser, two twin-sized beds, a bedside table and a lamp, there was only the smell of old wood and the creak of Baseball's footsteps to keep them company. The creaks left the party when Baseball sat on his bed, which was a little lumpy.

"The quarters aren't so fun," Baseball said, then added, "Though I have to admit, the icebreakers went well! I only wish MePhone didn't have water balloons on the schedule. Microphone couldn't play, and I felt bad."

"Ooh, we're talking campers now? I love mine. They're so cute!"

"They're a lot nicer than I would've expected for a bunch of pre-teens," Baseball replied. "Only one of them made a fat joke at me. I was expecting a lot more, honestly."

"There's a rotter on every team. Maybe the power of friendship will change what's-his-face."

Baseball hummed. "Maybe... But Suitcase seems to get along with everyone, even Balloon and Box. Maybe she'll find the good in Trophy."

"My team's not immune either. Yin-Yang punched one of the the Cherries' faces, remember? And Apple and Marshmallow seem to hate each other; I think they knew each other before coming here. But everyone will bury the hatchet by the time we're done pounding the power of friendship into them."

His stomach growled. "Ugh... Mentioning all those food contestants makes me hungry. The portions are tiny here..."

"I'm so hungry I could eat a horse," she replied, and Baseball didn't doubt that it was very literal. "Good thing the world is our dinner plate."

He winced. "You aren't talking about eating actual horses, are you?"

"Not at all," Lightbulb replied. "We can go steal some kitchen food."

"...Seriously? Isn't that, like, against the rules?"

"The one who follows the rules drools while the ne'er-do-well feasts," Lightbulb said, then smirked. "You in?"

'Rules are important. They exist for a reason. I can't encourage this... But I am starving. And I don't want to be a wet blanket...'

Lightbulb walked up to him and poked his cheek. He could practically feel the static coming off her smile. It made his heart speed like lightning.

It was an infectious smile.

"Y-yeah, I'm game."

She opened the door and crept out into the creaky hallway. He followed her into the darkness.

'Maybe this summer's the one she goes for a plain guy like me,' Baseball thought hopefully. 'Here at Camp Inanimate, there could be surprises lurking around every corner.'

His stomach growled. She put a finger on it.

"Shh!"

'...That settles it. If we successfully steal food tonight, I'll confess to her this summer.'

Luckily for his heart and stomach, the heist went off without a hitch.

XXX

"Week one down," Baseball said, "five weeks to go."

"Why do you sound so sour about it?" Lightbulb asked, grimacing. She was lightly tossing one of the apples from the tree they were sitting at up and down. "The Grand Slams won eight to the Bright Lights' six! I'm plotting your murder as we speak; I did not permit you to do that."

"You're not seriously that upset about this, are you?"

"Of course I am; my team's better than yours! Team Bright Lights will beat you to a crisp in tomorrow's tug-o'-war to make up for it, I swear. Half of your team doesn't even have arms."

"Don't be so competitive," he admonished, then grinned. "You know Team Grand Slams will reign superior once again!"

Lightbulb leaned closer, smirking challengingly. Baseball's heart began to pound. "I'll bet you truly think that now. But you'll see." She took a single bite out of her apple. "My team has the strength of ten polar bears. Or walruses. Dunno which is stronger."

'Don't question the metaphor. Just replicate it.'

"I hope you're ready for an ice-cold defeat, then, old friend. I won't let my team of powerful elephants go easy on yours!"

Lightbulb grabbed the whistle that he began to keep around his neck at all times and tugged him closer yet closer. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Their faces nearly touched. Baseball blushed.

'What's she-'

As suddenly as she grabbed his whistle, there was a high-pitched squeal on the field.

"Agh! Help! She's harming our teammate!" Test Tube yelled.

"What? I did not permit her to do that," Lightbulb muttered, and darted off to the soccer field. "Who's headed to the calm down corner?!"

Baseball remained sitting there for a second in shock as Lightbulb dealt with the altercation by swiftly exiling Apple to the Calm-Down Corner.

Baseball couldn't help wishing that Apple had waited just a few more moments before opening fist-fire on Bow.

XXX

'Breakfast is weirder than usual today.' He poked it with a fork, raising an eyebrow. The pancake didn't have the right spongy feel to its surface to be a bonafide, high-quality pancake. It was like what would happen if a public school decided to have pancake day.

It must've been the cheap stuff.

"I never asked you before, but what do you think of your copilot, Basey?"

Baseball stopped staring at the (rather gross-looking) pancakes in front of him and squinted his eyes in confusion at Lightbulb instead. (Her plate was, by the way, completely done.) "Copilot? ...You mean co-coounsellor Nickel?"

"Copilot, co-counsellor, it's all the same."

His name was Nickel; he was fresh out of high school and had all the ego to show for it. His sarcastic quips revealed his sharp wit.

"He's cool," Baseball replied honestly as he poured maple syrup on his pancake. It clearly wasn't designed for armless people. "We traded numbers; I hope we stay friends when camp ends."

"Hm." Lightbulb rested her head on her hand, staring at her empty plate. "My copilot drives me bonkers."

"He does?" Baseball looked over at Paintbrush. Instead of sitting beside Nickel, they were sitting across from a Bright Light camper, Marshmallow; they seemed to be making pleasant small talk.

"He's a total control freak."

'It's strange. I don't think Lightbulb's ever said that about someone after forty-eight hours of knowing them. She's usually pretty positive.'

"Well, I guess that's not that bad of a thing. It means less work for you, right?"

"She also gets violent with the kids and clearly has favorites. Why would someone like that get a job working here? I'm trying to make him have fun, but he keeps being a grumpy grumpster!"

"I'm sure he- er, they have a valid reason," Baseball reasoned. "Try not to let it bug you too much. You have a way of making every room you walk into more fun, so as long as you keep being yourself, Paintbrush will be in your corner eventually."

Lightbulb sighed in Paintbrush's direction, staring.

It wouldn't be obvious to many, but as Lightbulb's best friend, it hit him like a pile of rocks. Lightbulb never cared what others thought of her. But when she grew fond of someone and they didn't feel the same way...

Well, only annoyance and frustration could occur.

It hurt to watch.

Baseball went back to eating, trying to ignore the growing feeling of sadness in his heart.

'Why Paintbrush? Sure, they have the looks, but...'

The answer came to him quickly. It was obvious, after all:

'Of course she would. Here at Camp Inanimate, there are surprises lurking around every corner, and you wouldn't even know it...

...But regardless, I have to support her. Whatever feelings I may have for her, our friendship comes first. Her summer romance won't be ruined on my watch.'

XXX

The strangest thing about Camp Inanimate was how it utterly disorganized it was.

Oh, that didn't just count for the state of the storage house. No, it was more of a sense of purpose that was missing.

The second Tuesday, for example. Scrubbing tables, macaroni crafts, writing letters home, polishing trophies, and an educational hike to the Gladstonian Glacier were all on the schedule.

Half the events involved cleaning. If the place was supposed to be a fun summer camp, wasn't cleaning going against that? Character building could be done in ways that didn't involve the campmaster sitting back and watching his stuff be cleaned...

There was an event at the end of the third week that was supposed to test the campers, but there was a dearth of skills that were taught in the first three weeks, and none of them involved pitching a tent or cooking over a fire. But even still, the Campetition was a competition meant to test skills.

It was confusing as all heck.

It was part of why he groaned when he realized that they were a canoe short on one of the few days they were having a lesson.

"Lightbulb, there aren't enough canoes for all the campers," he said.

Lightbulb counted the campers, who were all standing in a cluster behind them. Then she counted the canoes.

"That's weird. I put 'em all out here."

"Oh yeah, obviously. It must've just grown legs and walked off, huh?" As much as Baseball wanted to disagree with Nickel, he couldn't.

'It'd set us off schedule to not do this today,' he thought with a sigh. 'Of all the times to be absentminded...'

"It's right over there," Lightbulb remarked, pointing.

A single green canoe was floating in the middle of the lake.

Paintbrush grabbed Lightbulb by her whistle. "Are you kidding me? You had one job! Unbelievable!"

"Don't get up in my face about it!"

"Wait, what does this mean? Are we still going boating? Because I think I'm too sick to do that today, goise..." Tissues sneezed.

Lightbulb stepped away from Paintbrush. "Of course, Sneezer. It's at times like these that you have to remember," she picked up an oar, "You canoe think 'I can't.' Life don't work like that. I'll go get it!"

There was a kneeslap. Cheesy was the only one who seemed to enjoy the pun.

"Lightbulb, we have an extra canoe in the back," Paintbrush snapped, rolling their eyes. "You don't have to do this."

"You really don't have to," Baseball added. "You just beat me at that hot-dog-eating contest... You're going to cramp up!"

"Cramps, cramps. Why don't you guys try being champs?"

She dashed up to one of the cliffs around the lake and bounced on her feet.

'Lightbulb, this is dangerous! Ugh, you know I can't swim to save you if you're in trouble!'

He watched with trepidation. He wasn't alone.

"This doesn't seem like a good idea," one of the Cherries said uncertainly.

"Not sanitary, either!"

"Dumb idiots! I want to see her suffer! No! Yang, what's wrong with you?! She's our prized counsellor! SHUT UP!"

"It's a stupid choice," Paintbrush shot back, and yelled,  "You just won a contest five minutes ago! You don't need to show off with a half-mile swim!"

He seriously considered adding his voice to the chorus of disapproval.

Lightbulb looked at Paintbrush with a radiant grin. It faltered when she saw how angry they were.

Baseball's decision was made for him.

"That's where you're wrong. I know Lightbulb, and she always challenges herself by living life to the limit."

"Are you kidding me?!"

Suffering could very well happen. Stomach cramps from eating then swimming were pretty awful, and the canoe really was too far out to get without loading up in a different canoe.

'Lightbulb has that quality where she can always succeed even when the odds are stacked against her. This is child's play for her.'

Baseball swallowed his hesitation and called out to her. "You go, Lightbulb! I believe in you!"

Her eyes became filled with newfound determination as she turned to share a blazing look with Baseball. The thread of their electric connection bonded them for a mere second before Lightbulb leapt into the lake with a backflip.

The campers all gasped in surprise when she connected with the water and swam fast. It was mere seconds before the yellow-scarved campers began to cheer; soon after, the Grand Slams joined in.

Baseball added his voice to the chorus of cheers, but felt sweat bead at his forehead. His heart was pounding.

'She'll be okay. She has to be; she's Lightbulb.'

Paintbrush watched incredulously. "Is she for real?"

"I know, right? Show off," Nickel muttered.

Paintbrush blew their whistle and furiously called her back.

Lightbulb didn't listen. She never listened.

It was a few minutes later when the canoe hit the shore and she stumbled out of it, panting. Paintbrush rushed forward to catch her when she fell. "Are you okay?!"

Worry creased their brow. Lightbulb panted for a moment before giving a thumbs-up.

"That was so reckless. How could you go out and do that?!"

Lightbulb coughed and grinned weakly. "That was nothin'. Someone had to get it..."

"Right after winning that contest! I'm not sure whether to be stupidly impressed or impressed by your stupidity."

Lightbulb winced at a cramp but grinned. Baseball couldn't help the thought that it was the nicest thing Paintbrush had ever said to Lightbulb.

"...Nice job, though. You're pretty fit... for someone who cops cookies all the time, anyway. Test Tube, Fan, go find MePad."

"R-roger that!"

Paintbrush looked down at Lightbulb, who was suddenly beaming. "You're," she coughed, "impressed, huh?"

"Impressed? Wh- no! But you have guts. I guess."

Lightbulb glanced at Baseball and winked. Baseball's grin grew, but he inwardly frowned.

'It'd be nice if she wasn't into someone whose compliments were so backhanded.'

Still, it was relief enough to see her okay.

'And I was a good friend to support her through thick and thin, right?'

Baseball cleared his throat. "Alright, campers. Now that we have them all, Nickel and I will teach you all the fundamentals of canoeing."

"...Can we learn how to swim instead?" a still-breathless Suitcase asked.

XXX

Late that evening, something very, very usual happened: Lightbulb returned to their room two hours later dinner. But the catch was that it hasn't happened since coming to Camp Inanimate, so it still worried him.

Thus he was caught in the profoundly uncomfortable position of being exasperated yet worried, and angry at himself for the confliction to boot because it wasn't his business.

Baseball was already lying down and trying (and failing) to fall asleep when she finally came. He was usual with his question: "Is everything okay?"

"Still haven't thanked you for all the pep earlier, so thanks."

"A thank you? That's rare." He sat up, mustering authority to his voice. "I repeat: is everything okay?"

"I was never broken up to begin with." There was a whumping sound as she jumped onto her bed. "But still, I like knowing I have someone to count on."

"Don't we all?"

"Pretty much." Lightbulb looked satisfied. "Painty and I went for a walk by the lake to discuss strategy for the Campetition."

"A strategy? Is there really a strategy for winning a test of skills?"

"Y-yeah. I do."

Only a best friend might have noticed it. There was a near-imperceptible shake in her voice.

For one reason or another, she was dodging his questions. He narrowed his eyes.

For a split second, Baseball wondered if it was him causing it, if maybe she'd done something to wrong him. For a split second he wondered if her thanking him for the enthusiasm meant something.

Then he realized it.

Paintbrush and Lightbulb, a long walk by moonlight... It wasn't hard to connect two and two for a math kind of guy like him.

It was like an arrow to the heart, and not Cupid's, either.

He sighed bitterly. "I guess if you're strategizing, then Team Grand Slams has to win. They've been taught well, considering they're never distracted by the way I do things."

Lightbulb stared at him in disbelief, then looked away. "Y-yeah. Hope a good night of sleep makes you feel better, Basey..."

He turned the lamp off and faced away from her in response.

XXX

"Lightbulb, two of the Bright Lights are missing."

Lightbulb was relaxing against a cooler, camp counsellor hat over her eyes. "Yep, I know."

"Why aren't you doing anything about it? They could get hurt out there."

"They'll be fine." She flicked the rim of her hat upwards and offered him a marshmallow. "Stop being a party pooper and chill out with me."

He pushed her hand away in disbelief.

"Lightbulb, two of your campers are missing! Don't you remember that speech we gave to everyone about how dangerous the woods are at night? They're probably terrified right now."

Lightbulb looked at him testily. "But how's that any different from what we're doing? Everybody's in the woods. It's Campetition night. Everyone's having fun."

Indeed, masking their conversation were the sounds of their campers' happy chatter. Green and yellow tents were being put up under the watchful eye of the cocounsellors. Nickel was barking at Mic for putting hers up "suckily," and Cheesy was shaking with laughter.

"It's worlds apart; they don't have a counsellor or any supplies with them."

"That's what camping's all about: fun, teamwork, and survival of the fittest."

"Survival of the fittest?" He stuttered in disbelief for a second. "...None of which Apple and Marshmallow are having luck with, I'm sure! Lightbulb, you could get fired for this!"

"Whatever happened to us being rival team captains? Sounds like you care a lot about me all of a sudden... Ooh, you don't have a crush on me or something, do ya?"

"We hang out every day, and that's what you take out of context?!"

"Psht. Everyone knows Apple and Marshmallow will wind up married one day," Lightbulb replied flippantly. "I say we just let them work things out. Conflict brings people closer."

"Apple has violent tendencies towards Marshmallow, as she showcased at the beginning of camp," Baseball retorted.

"They worked things out earlier this week. Pink Gal doesn't like it, but there's been no fightin' lately."

'Clearly she won't see reason.' Baseball pulled a whistle from under his hat and blew hard. "Nickel, some contestants are missing; I'm gonna look for them. You keep an eye on things."

"You got it," Nickel replied over the ruckus.

Baseball strode off. Lightbulb bounced to her feet and dashed in pursuit.

"Wait a sec! Painty, I'm going with him!"

She bumped into his side companionably as she came to walk beside him. "I'm not gonna let you foot this on your own, big fella! It's you and me -- let's go!"

XXX

"So, Basey..."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't call me that while we're on the job."

"C'mon, man. We're not on the job." In the light of the flashlight she was holding, Baseball could see her waggle her eyebrows. "We're just a boy and a girl alone in the spooky woods at night... Ooh, wonder how this could possibly end..."

He looked away awkwardly, heartbeat speeding up. 'Wow... if only she meant it. But no!'

"What about Paintbrush?"

Lightbulb laughed, slightly nervous. "Whatever feelings I may have for Copilot don't matter when movie conventions take over."

'Obviously.' Baseball ignored her in favor of blowing his whistle. "Marshmallow! Apple! Guys!"

No response but the echo of his own voice. Lightbulb took it as an invitation to keep talking: "Get this. What if we were in that horror movie we were screening with the kids the other day? We'd be the couple of camp counsellors who got lured away, distracted by one another's wiles, and then he would stab us with a hook."

"One more time, this is a serious situation! For all we know, they are being hooked."

"Aw, c'mon. We're both great camp counsellors. It's our dynamic: I mess around a lot, and you're the stick in the mud- I mean, the serious one. For example, get this: we're hooking them. Right up."

Baseball shivered. "Please. It's bad enough that you came up with that awful Camp Inanimate D..." He interrupted himself before finishing, "It's normal to take things a little seriously."

"They need some kind of explanation for the noise Taco the ol' rogue contestant makes when she sneaks into camp, or we sneak out at night to get extra food."

"Fair point, but did you have to go with that crass thing you went with? Really?"

"It did its job," she replied with a shrug. "Don't see why you take such issue with it."

"There are kids here. In fact, the whole point of being a camp counsellor is to be kid-friendly." Baseball rolled his eyes. "It was unnecessary, is all I'm saying."

"And the last thing they want to see is some person named the Camp Inanimate Di-"

"Do you have to say it so emphatically?!"

"The Camp Inanimate dichotomy expert, of course!" Lightbulb said with a laugh. "Don't get all flustered, Big Man. I think you mind more than the kiddos do. As I was saying, they're kids. They don't wanna see that. So now they don't sneak out anymore, and it works out just grand."

Baseball sighed and blew his whistle again.

"C'mon, Basey. I don't wan'cha to be mad at me... Did I do something?"

He sighed irately. "...Nothing."

"With a tone of voice like that? C'mon, just tell me how I can make you smile like a handsome man again."

It would've made him get his hopes up just a week ago. Now, it just made him mad.

"Let me do my job," he muttered, and walked ahead of her.

XXX

"I think we should take a break," Lightbulb eventually remarked.

"What? No. We aren't being paid to leave children unattended."

"It's just minimum wage. 'Sides, they have survival skills; it'll be fine!" Lightbulb angled the flashlight upwards. "Take a look at those stars!"

He glanced at them. Broken up by the dark forms of the trees, the blue carpet of the skies was nearly covered with them. It was really pretty; they never seemed so bright with light pollution abound, and it was hard to find the time to look at them to begin with, anyway.

Then he just felt annoyed. 'Of course I'd let her tell me what to do.' "You take a break if you want. I'll do my job and find them."

"It almost makes me a bit sentimental to stargaze," Lightbulb remarked, slinging an arm around him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Feelings and stuff."

Baseball laughed derisively. "You, talking about feelings? What's next, pigs flying?"

"Hey, surprises around every corner, right?"

Silence stretched between them. Lightbulb was smiling. Despite the ache in his heart, he sighed. "...Whatever. Continue."

"Anyway, Paintbrush and I have been pretty tight since that encounter with the canoe in the lake the other day. I think the kids are starting to think we should be a couple..."

"Obviously." His voice was bitter.

"Don't need to be such a sourpuss about it, Baseball. If you keep that up I'll think you have a crush on me."

Baseball groaned. "Okay fine, so maybe I don't like how Paintbrush treats you. That's a normal best friend feeling. It's perfectly natural to get angry now and then.

"But I don't want you to be angry at me!" Lightbulb looked annoyed. "Spill the beans, buddy. Or... or I'll throw the beans all over you!"

She tossed a handful of dirt at him. It hit his side harmlessly. His glare intensified.

After waiting a second for an intended effect that never came, Lightbulb continued in a tumble of words, "Here's the deal: Painty is super cute. They're tall, dark, and handsome. Sometimes they have an attitude problem, but overall? We're friends, and they're a nice person. But if getting closer to Painty hurts what we have, I don't need to kiss 'em."

"Excuse me? 'What we have'?"

"Yeah. We used to shoot the breeze all the time, and now you don't even wanna chill with me in the camp clearing, or pal around with me at all while we look for the frickin' future proprietors of Sweet Apple Acres!"

"I'm just taking my job seriously," Baseball argued. "Isn't this exactly what drove you up the wall about Paintbrush to begin with?"

"I miss you!" Lightbulb burst, catching Baseball's attention. "You want to know the real reason I dragged you out to Camp Inanimate? It's not just because summer camp is super-fun, or because I like kids. It's because we can hang out!"

"...What?"

"Yeah, Basey!" Suddenly she was speaking a lot with her hands. "You're off at university for that health coach degree thing and I'm at trade school to be an electrician. This could be the last time we get to hang out like we used to as kids. I don't want it to pass us by!"

Baseball stared at her incredulously. Her eyes were wide; though they housed no tears, the cracks in her voice made him think that they weren't too far off.

"I... didn't realize you cared so much." He carefully measured his words, trying to keep a cool tone. He was more or less successful.

"How didn't you? We're best friends! We should be able to tell each other anything!"

"Well, I'm sorry. I've been letting my feelings get in the way of making sure you have a great summer."

She looked confused. "Your feelings?"

He made himself look smaller. "Y-yeah."

"Like best friend feelings, or the kind I have for-"

"Both of them. All of them! Sometimes you annoy me so much, or we're rivals, or you're like my meddling big sister, or-"

"Man, you too?"

"What?" He double-took. Lightbulb's expression didn't change. "'You too'?"

"Yup. I feel a lot of things about you, too. It's at least fifty-five. Which is to say... I still have a crush on Painty, but you're really cool too!"

'Shoot. I can't get my hopes up. Don't sound too excited.' He took a deep breath and asked her, "Is a crush one of those fifty-five?"

Hope did creep into his tone. But Lightbulb grinned. "Mhm! There's a lotta 'guy I wanna marry' and 'childhood crush' mixed in there, too."

"Are you serious?! I-I feel all those things too!"

Lightbulb laughed. "Man, what are the odds? Looks to me like you got worked up over a bunch of nothing, Basey-Boy."

She pushed him against a tree and pecked him on the lips. It was short, but it ended with a burst of static electricity. That made his heart pound, his face flush.

Lightbulb smiled coyly. "Ooh, whoops. We're boyfriend and girlfriend now. Darn."

"W-we are?!" His head reeled. 'How does she go so fast?! Isn't she even remotely dizzy from this?!'

"'Course we are!"

"...I-I don't believe it. Can you kiss me again so I do?"

Another laugh. "Silly Basey! If we do that, Mr. Hook-Man will come and murder us, remember?" She stood up. "Plus, break's over; we gots to look for the kiddos!" Without warning, she climbed up on top of him and turned on the flashlight. "C'mon! Giddyup, my steed!"

Despite not getting the kiss, he smiled as if he'd never smile again. Elation filled his chest as he got up and strode through the forest, Lightbulb blowing her whistle.

"Marshmallow! Apple!" Baseball would call while Lightbulb took breaths.

He should've gotten exhausted. But the thought that she was his girlfriend filled him with limitless energy, as if she were the lightning charger and he was the old phone. He'd lose weight in no time like this.

They were a perfect team. It wasn't long before they saw the glinting warm tones of a fire in the distance. He zeroed in on it.

There Marshmallow and Apple were, sitting in front of the fire with their fingers intertwined and their faces close.

There was a terse moment where they exchanged a quick glance. Then Marshmallow belatedly pushed her away and hopped to her feet. "Finally! What took you guys so long?!"

"Had stuff to do." Lightbulb hopped off of Baseball, crossing her arms and admiring the setup. "You guys seem to've done well for yourselves."

"Somehow," Marshmallow muttered sarcastically, then giggled. "I'm excited to leave all this stuff behind." She kicked a huge amount of dirt onto the fire so it sizzled out of existence with a hiss. "Let's go."

"Yeah, sure," Lightbulb replied, grinning knowingly. "Want to piggy-back?"

"No! Let's just walk."

Marshmallow speed-walked ahead. Lightbulb glanced back at Baseball then gave a thumbs-up before falling into step with her.

Baseball stared after her for a moment with a vacant grin. 'I can't believe we're actually a thing now... Ten years after I started crushing on her, and now... Ooh...'

"Hey Baseball, I have some amazing news," Apple burst, grinning.

He turned to her. "Really? What's the news, anyway?"

"It's uh, uh..." Apple tapped her fingers together nervously. "I forget. But I-I'm sorry we got lost. Marshmallow felt weird with the s'mores, so I made it happen on purpose... Don't make her get in trouble over it, please."

"We all do things that maybe aren't the smartest now and then," Baseball replied. "Lightbulb and I are just glad that you're safe. Was everything okay?"

"It was scary!"

Baseball couldn't help grinning. "Scary, huh? ...Was it fun?"

She tugged nervously at her yellow handkerchief. "Heh, It was. I'm not sure if Marshmallow feels the same way about it, though..."

'Maybe Lightbulb was right like she always is and it was just a bonding experience for 'em.'

"Sometimes people aren't too obvious with their feelings," he answered. "It just makes it more of a surprise when you figure them out, right?"

"...Maybe..." She yawned. Baseball lowered himself to the ground so she could crawl on top of him where Lightbulb had been sitting mere moments ago.

"What is Lightbulb gonna do with you?"

"I dunno."

XXX

Baseball deposited the sleeping Apple into one of the sleeping bags in her tent. He came out to see Lightbulb leaning against a tree, arms crossed. He walked over to her and grinned as she leaned against him instead.

More fun this way, he could practically hear her think.

He followed her eyes to Marshmallow. She was sitting in front of the fire, apparently trying to draw by firelight. She rubbed her temples, struggling to concentrate, and glanced back at her tent often.

"What'd I tell you?"

Baseball rolled his eyes affectionately. "Fine, maybe you had a point about those two. But look around. Is it really that uncommon here?"

Test Tube and Fan sat close together, Test Tube apparently examining the egg. Fan's shining eyes were on her only.

Balloon was quickly putting together a flower crown; Suitcase sat beside him, excitedly chattering about how handsome he looked with blue flowers on his head, how good he was at flower crowns. Box sat a little off to the side wearing one of his own. Suitcase mentioned that Trophy would just adore his own.

Mic and Soap were singing softly together, voices forming beautiful harmony in the quiet camp.

And who knew what was going on within the confines of the tents? Most of them were occupied already, after all.

"Huh, that's true. Guess I never noticed."

"Guess it's expected," Baseball replied. "The bonds you forge at summer camp last forever, after all. We're only halfway through, and we're already seeing it."

Lightbulb chuckled. "Couldn't've said it better myself, Basey."

XXX

That wound up being a marathon to finish; it's the longest oneshot yet. I'll keep the note brief by saying that I was trying something new. While writing, I wanted to convey the idea of this coming from some bigger thing. What I mean by that is that it seems well-developed and moving like a shortened multichaptered story filled with competition and conflicted feelings. In such a story, each character would have an arc that the reader could draw their own conclusions from. Of course, it remains to be seen how well I did here.

I would like to note that this was written before "Alternate Reality Show" aired.

I hope you've enjoyed, and that you'll consider voting or commenting if this story was something you liked!