He stepped off the bus, already parched on a blistering July morning and it wasn't even 10:00 yet.  Maybe my parents decided to check me into Hell and didn't bother to tell me, he wondered as the procession of youths filed past the gates like livestock to their likely slaughter.

He wasn't very excited to be here today to begin with.  His mother had opened the invitation to attend the "14th Annual Joseph A. Scranton Memorial Youth Leadership Camp" and called the director before he could even begin to protest.  Anything with a name that long had to be the epitome of dullness, he reasoned....he racked his brain to come up with as many adjectives as he could to describe the three week seminar in terms that would sway Larissa Halpert's mind....lame, pointless, only the geeks go there (ok, so not only adjectives).  She told him it would look good on his college resume, and dad had agreed so he had no choice. 

Jim's 6th grade teachers constantly implored him to try harder, but what was the point in that when you could get As with minimal effort and then spend the rest of your time figuring out how to rearrange your friends' backpack items to maximize their utter confusion at lunchtime?  He was a bright enough kid, he guessed, but he really didn't enjoy school.  It was a bridge between breakfast and hours spent with his brother Jon and sister Mary playing basketball in the driveway...not much else.  He'd be missing that for three whole weeks in order to hear about the history of American civics or the future of computers as a business tool from some monotous drone who'd probably never told a joke in his entire life.  Oh, how he wished Ms. Davis hadn't recommended him for this.

-----------------------

A week had passed and he had learned exactly nothing.  The high point of the week came when some crazy salesman from a local paper company had interrupted a seminar called "Computers...the Future of Communication" and punched the speaker after he stated that paper would be obsolete within 20 years.  Thankfully their camp counselor separated the two and that guy wouldn't be welcome back anytime soon.

Luckily, he had made a couple friends in his short time...Billy and Tim went to Dunmore Middle School, right across town and he'd actually played against them on the basketball court so they spent their free time shooting hoops and razzing each other as best they could.

Sitting in the dining hall with a group of other devoted hoopsters, Jim's eyes lazily scanned the room, wondering if there was anyone else from his school here that he hadn't met this week.  He lingered on a few faces, wondering if he'd seen him in Geography or her in English, but no one rang a bell. 

He glanced to the front and was startled to see a pair of eyes that seemed to be looking right back into his.  He froze....was she looking at him?  He let his gaze drift up, to her long, flowing red/brown/blonde hair (he didn't know it was possible, but she seemed to cover all the hair colors...best of all worlds, he chuckled), and then down to her creamy, smooth skin and adorable nose and mouth.  He offered a small smile, in case she was actually looking at him, and she responded by tilting her head back and flashing a smile so radiant that he swore it could replace the microwave if he could capture it.  In an instant, he felt a warmth come over him like this was someone he already knew, even though he'd just laid eyes on her.  The moment enveloped him in comfort like the afghan on his grandmother's sofa and he lingered for what felt like minutes before snapping back to consciousness.  She was probably just laughing at a funny joke or something, Halpert.  Don't get your hopes up, he figured.

Turning to Billy and Tim, he said "Woah, who's that up there?"

"Who?" Billy responded. 

"The one in the pink sweater."

"Oh, that's Pam Beesly.  She's an 8th grader at our school," Tim chipped in.  "She's really into art...her paintings won a couple contests we had this year.  She's kinda shy, but I bet she'll have the high school boys all over her when she goes to Scranton Area next year."

"Yeah," was all Jim could muster.

Just then, there was an interruption and the head counselor stepped to the microphone on the stage in front.  "Attention kids...I just wanted to let you know that we'll be posting signup sheets for the activities on Fun Night next weekend when we wrap up camp.  We'd like everyone to sign up to be stationed at one activity for at least an hour, but you can sign up for more if you like.  So make sure you stop by and sign up sometime during the week because unless we get you to volunteer, it will be hard to do smoothly."  He turned and left.

"That's what she said," Jim whispered to the table, causing a fit of giggles to erupt.  "I can't wait to see what kind of lame-o games we're gonna have to play."

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Jim stopped at the counselor's station on Tuesday night after the group hike.  He glanced at the list....the usual suspects, he noted with a roll of the eyes.  Ring toss, pin the tail on the donkey, bobbing for apples, long jump, limbo, three-legged sack race, blah, blah blah.  One at the bottom of the list caught his eye though.  It seemed like it could be a lawsuit waiting to happen...could they really make someone do that?  He thought for a second and his mind drifted to the past night.  This could be a great opportunity, he thought.  He hastily put the pen to paper and jogged off to get back to Tim and Billy.  He wasn't telling anyone about this...they'd just have to wait and see.