I want something real, and I hate that I will most likely never get it with her.
"How do you feel about camping?" I switch the subject in the hopes that it will ease her nerves.
"I've done it a few times, not that my dad knows about. He would lose his s**t if he found out I was slumming it," she says with a slight eye roll.
"My dad's the same way. To him, camping is being in a multi-million-dollar condo on a private beach. I guess some of my rebellion was going out and camping in the woods with nothing more than a tent and a sleeping bag. If it's okay with you, there is a great campground roughly ninety minutes from here. They have tents and everything you need already there. We can camp out tonight and hit the road tomorrow morning."
It might not be ideal, but it's set to be a beautif
