![]() And for the zillionth time since leaving, Finn wishes her best friend, Dan, was with her instead of only Amy, who is fun and hilarious but hovers closer to long-term buddy/lab partner than friend. Trailing them on the highway is a caravan of minibuses packed with other schools’ high performers. They are two of the seven kids her school has deemed sufficiently overachieving to cart off to this month-long camp. Amy’s not going to love it, but Finn might need some leverage to keep her in line. Finn pulls out her phone and sneaks a snap of her open-mouthed slumber. Her blue-streaked hair falls over Finn’s shoulder. And she’s definitely not sure now that she’s staring down the barrel of this no-man’s-land reality. ![]() ![]() She wasn’t sure about it when she packed her bags. She actually likes nature, but the thought of being trapped this far from anywhere for weeks with no phones or laptops or best friend? Not so much. ![]() Wet, green paddocks stretch out on either side as far as she can see, and the horizon is a grassy nothingness, dotted with cows or sheep or some other kind of four-legged burger filler. The beige uniformity of the suburbs gave way to green about an hour ago, and the view has been an interminable, rainy sameness since. As the bus veers onto the narrow bitumen road, Finn turns up her music, blocking out the noise so she can take in her new surroundings. ![]()
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