#me taking a LauraMax prompt and somehow making it also about Rylan is so on brand

[wolfawaycamp]

LauraMax went to the motel. What's a typical staff table dinner conversation look like?

Max greets her in the way that has become their norm since camp started and they’re surrounded by children and coworkers at all hours of the day and night: the gentlest of shoulder checks — his knocking ever so briefly against her own — as he’s sliding into place on the bench next to her. It’s something so unremarkable, so mundane in terms of physical contact and affection, but the tender little smile they share when their eyes meet is something that shouts their love for one another even in complete silence; it’s a little bit of warmth, a little bit of Laura that exists solely for him and a little bit of Max that exists solely for her. A little piece of their souls that no one else gets to see.

“Hey babe,” she grins. “How did dodgeball go? We didn’t get any more nose gushers in the nurse’s office so I figured it must be going better than yesterday at least…”

Down the table, there’s a snort.

“That’s true, there were no nosebleeds today,” Kaitlyn interjects. “Or black eyes, unless someone ate a ball and just didn’t mention it— do not make the joke, Dylan!”

“What?” the boy squawks, with a terribly see-through attempt at a poker face. “What joke?! I didn’t say anything, Kaitlyn!”

“Well I can tell you were thinking it!”

“What, are you a mind reader now?!”

The far end of the table descends into rapidfire back-and-forths as the two continue bickering, oblivious to the amusement of the rest of the counselors. Max shoots an amused grin at Laura, who only rolls her eyes and looks to the next source of information: Emma.

“Yeah, it went off without a hitch… I think mostly because Mr. H sidelined Ryan to fix whatever was up in the boathouse, so he and Jacob weren’t bumping shoulders on the field anymore,” the blonde rolls her eyes with a smirk. “So, you know… no ‘totally accidental’ elbows thrown or balls conveniently thrown right into someone’s nose this time. Way better example set for the kids today.”

“Yeah, I s’pose that would help,” Laura says with a wicked grin; she and Ryan had had a vague yet instantaneous rivalry from the very first moment she set foot in Hackett’s Quarry, yet somehow his beef with Jacob would always reign supreme.

“Well…” a tentative voice pipes up; it’s Abi, speaking up for the first time that night. “Ryan being gone also kinda helped with the accidental injuries that were actually accidental, too…”

Everyone’s curiosity is piqued by her vagueness.

“How do you mean, Abi?” Nick questions.

“Just, um,” she flushes, looking a bit guilty suddenly. “Just that, y’know, Dylan was actually paying attention to the game this time? Not just… uhh, what Ryan was doing? So there was less tripping over tree roots and knocking kids —- or me — flying because he didn’t notice us standing right in front of him...”

The counselor table falls silent. Abi blushes a deep shade of red, enough to almost put the highlights in her hair to shame, and starts digging into her dinner furiously as a means of self-distraction. Then, like the pin had been pulled, the whole table bursts into explosive laughter — with the exception of Dylan, who was suddenly flushed equally as red as Abi and slouching comically low in his seat, as if he could somehow become tiny enough to go unseen.

“O-hhhh, my god, Abi,” Emma crows, leaning on the shorter girl to wrap an arm around her shoulder and jostle her appreciatively; it’s a sentiment shared around the table as the rest of the counselors hoot and holler, Jacob being the loudest of them all.

“Do I even want to ask what you guys are laughing about?”

Ryan’s voice cuts suddenly through the commotion as the final member of their group arrives, dinner tray in hand as he stares down at them all with a vague air of judgment.

“Just th—”

“NOTHING! It’s nothing!” Dylan practically shouts, and poor Jacob cuts off with a choking noise as one of the taller boy’s hands smacks right across his mouth, successfully cutting off whatever teasing was doubtlessly about to commence.

An eyebrow twitches ever so slightly on Ryan’s face.

“Riiiiight…” he says. “Whatever that was about, then.”

And then Mr. H’s favorite counselor takes his spot at their table, completely unbothered and unruffled even as Dylan — seated directly across from him — continues to burn tomato-red, and Kaitlyn and Emma are still shamelessly giggling to themselves further down the row. Laura’s eyes gravitate to Max’s, as always, and the two of them share the same fond-yet-disgusted eye roll as every other time Dylan’s elephant sized crush somehow manages to keep flying under Ryan’s radar.

She’s not gonna be able to leave this damn camp without Max playing wingman, Laura concludes; she can already practically see the determination solidifying in her boyfriend’s heart.

🐦‍⬛