“Well,” Joshua told him. “We were hopingyou’ddo cooking classes. You know, beginner’s stuff. Give them some survival skills in the kitchen.”
“Howmanykids?” David queried.
“Our limit is fifty.”
David leaned back, clearly horrified. “I’d be teachingfiftykids to cook? Do they all eat like Colin?”
“Lord god, I hope not,” Joshua muttered.
“No, David,” Colin reassured him, laughing at Joshua’s reaction. “We’ll limit the number of kids per class.” He shrugged. “Maybe you could teach a beginner’s classanda more advanced class.”
David nodded. “Actually, I could see it being fun. I love cooking, and it would be wonderful to pass that love alongto these kids.” He leaned toward Colin, “Are there any other assigned duties?”
“Well, we’ll all be serving as counselors,” Joshua told him. “Listening to their problems, giving advice—just being there for what they need, keeping things peaceful.”
“And safe,” Colin added.
“We haven’t actually mapped out any policies yet.”
David nodded. “It would be wonderful to make a difference in these kids’ livesbeforethey get to university.”
“What about me, Josh?” Nate asked, leaning forward with a curious smile. “What role do you see me playing?”
Josh didn’t miss a beat. “Since you’re our resident playwright, I thought you could teach a writing class. The kids could write their own play and perform it for everyone on the last day. What do you think?”
Nate’s expression softened, a glimmer of nostalgia in his eyes. “You know, that’s an interesting idea. When I was a kid, I took a writing class—not at a camp, but in school. I still remember my teacher praising my story and reading it aloud to the class. She told me I had a gift and should keep writing. That was the first time I ever thought of myself as …talented. It changed something inside me.”
Joshua’s smile widened. “Then maybe you can be that person for these kids—the one who gives them the very first glimmer of their true potential.”
Nate nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that,” he murmured, his voice hushed.
Colin’s smile was filled with affection as he reached to pat Nate’s shoulder. “You’ll be great, buddy.” He turned back to Joshua. “But I think we need to check out the campground before we go any further. Talk to the people at Verdun to see what they suggest. They’ve got the experience in this.”
“That sounds fantastic!” Nate said, swirling his French fry in the plastic container, struggling to scoop out the last remnants of sauce. “Let’s go!”
“Nate, it’s six o’clock at night!” Colin blurted, then lifted his eyes to heaven and pointed to Nate’s empty sauce container. “You could always just stick your tongue in there, you know.”
“Smart-ass!” Nate shot back, then tossed the empty container in his friend’s direction. Colin caught it with one hand, then wrapped his arm around Nate’s neck. “We really appreciate you for helping us out on this. Especially since no one from the other therapy centers has signed on yet.”
“Really?” David asked in surprise.
“Yeah,” Joshua muttered. “Pisses me off.” He got to his feet and laid a hand on David’s arm. “We’ll pick you guys up tomorrow around 9:00 a.m. if that’s OK.” He shot a glance at the remaining food. “And the leftovers are all yours.”
“You’re aprince,” David teased, peering down at the pile of now-cold burgers and fries. “And take this to heart Colin Michael: If I end up with poison ivy on my dick, I’mcomingfor you!”
“With his dick in his hand,” Nate added, giggling.
Colin snickered and led Joshua toward the door. “9:00 a.m.!” he told his friends. “Be ready!”
“Come at eight!” David called after him. “And I’ll provide breakfast before we go.”
“You got it, Professor!”
The following morning,the four friends stood together at a high vantage point, gazing out over the Verdun campus. It sprawled below them—lush campsites, towering pines, ashimmering lake—all nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Early sunlight bathed the scene in fiery warmth; golden rays pirouetted on the lake’s rippling surface and cast long, dappled shadows across the forest floor. Birds darted between the trees, their melodies weaving with the gentle rustle of leaves in the cool, fragrant air. The rich scent of earth and pine seemed to anchor them in this tranquil moment of discovery.
Colin glanced at Joshua, who stood close beside him, his face illuminated by quiet awe. Behind them, David and Nate shared a laugh, their voices light and carefree, rising with the breeze. A swell of pride and hope tightened Colin’s chest. This place, so alive with beauty, would soon become a sanctuary—a retreat—for LGBTQ+ youth in search of peace and belonging. At that moment, the symmetry between the friendship of the four men, the splendor of their surroundings, and the nobility of their purpose felt almost sacred.
“This is the perfect spot,” Nate said, his voice hushed with reverence.
