See you soon! Love, Rae
I pull the card off of the kitchen refrigerator and read it again. My second and last letter home is full of the bullshit parents want to hear when their kid is away. If I wrote about what actually went on this summer, their heads would swell and explode simultaneously, and I wouldn’t ever be allowed to attend sleepaway camp again.
The letter I sent home had hints of truth to it. I had a limited amount of free time, but spent most of it getting n***d with Brett. Subsequently it was our hips that were connected together and not Leanne and Suzanne’s. And the new counselor-involved activities would have been better defined if I had said they were new “s****l” activities that were taking place, and with one counselor in particular. I couldn’t tell my parents that all
