Sixty-Two ? Phan

Nineteen

I nodded defiantly. Phil grinned.

"Then, what if I said I'm not going anymore? Would you still go?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it with a pout.

He hummed. "That's what I thought."

"That's not fair," I whined. "I just like hanging out with you. It doesn't mean I'm not independent."

Phil shrugged, and I stopped begrudgingly. I pulled my hand from his and crossed my arms. He looked back at me from where he stood, still ahead by a step of my lagging.

"What are you doing?"

"Showing you how not-dependent I am on you."

He watched me carefully, waiting. I raised my chin.

"Okay. Go on." He tipped his head.

I opened my mouth but one more found it dry of words. My eyes scanned all around me, searching for some sort of beacon that would profusely shoot out at any moment to help me with my spur-of-the-moment declaration.

When nothing came to mind right away, and I continued to stand there, Phil rolled his eyes and stepped closer, reaching out to me.

"Come on, silly," he said.

I shook my head, stepping backwards, and then turning and running to hide playfully. Not a very thorough plan, considering he was watching me still and we were in the middle of the camp. I felt people glance my way as I wedged between them and their groups, crouching behind a tree that closely overlooked and brushed the wall of a cabin.

A tree. Perfect.

Feeling like some sort of genuis with my newfound plan, I scampered up the side of the tree with the best my ability. My legs kicked and arms wobbled but eventually I made it onto a sturdy branch.

"Dan, get down from there."

I turned and glanced downward to see Phil standing at the trunk, looking up at me like I was his runaway kitten. I stuck my tongue out at him, pulling myself onto the next branch. As I did so, from the corner of my eye, I saw Phil begin to climb himself. Upon further height, I then was at eye-level with the flat roof of the cabin. With nowhere else to go but downward, I cautiously reached my arm out and crawled onto the roof, hearing Phil's shoe scrape the branch below.

"What on earth are you doing?"

I turned around. Phil was then standing over me, looking down with an expression of utmost incredulity.

"You're a fast climber," I noted.

He rolled his eyes again. "It's almost dinner, you know."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yeah?"

I drew my knees to my chest. "Yeah."

Phil smiled. "Okay. Then I'm not hungry, either."

I felt my own mouth twitch into a grin at this, watching him sit down next to me. He wrapped his arm around me and hugged gently.

"You're not mad, right?" he asked.

"I can't be mad and happy at the same time, you know."

He laughed, a sound that made me especially giddy. I fell back into his chest, letting him lean down so that the two of us were facing the stars. Or, what would soon be the stars, at least. A bird flew across the sky.

After a little while, Phil broke the silence again.

"Hey, who's cabin is this?"

I looked at him. "I have no idea."

And then we laughed, on the roof of some cabin, watching the sunset and in eachother's arms.

And when bell rang for dinner, true to our words, neither of us moved.

a/n -

small filler (aka the quiet before a storm)