“I didn’t know you were a camping purist.”
“Renting a cabin or a camper is not camping!”
“Yes. Because it’s slightly bearable.”

Dominique threw her hands up in the air and collapsed into a seat with a huff. After a few seconds of sulking, she flopped over onto Alesandra’s lap and glared at her with lips pursed and cheeks puffed. Alesandra moved her tablet aside in time with the ease of long-practice, and pretended to ignore the girl below her. She hummed a note, tucking her long blonde hair behind an ear and making a check mark on the screen. Dominique’s grumpiness intensified, which was honestly adorable no matter how many times it happened. It brought out the golden flecks in her green eyes and a lovely flush against her dark cheeks.

“Come ooooon,” Dominique whined, grabbing Alesandra’s hand and pushing it into her black hair as a demand. Alesandra absently started to play with the strands as Dominique continued. “You’re rich as fuck, right? So like, you’ve been to summer camps, haven’t you? With all the rich people shit like horse riding?”

“We always went on holiday instead.” She answered. “Though there were a lot of horses at the summer palace one year.” She frowned at the memory. “One chewed on my Armani scarf.”
“Nevermind the horses. Focus on the camping. And the fact we’re gonna go.” Dominique said. Alesandra sighed.
“But don’t you want it to be a ‘best bros’ trip? Surely that’s what Fie meant when he invited you?”
“Ha! As if Liam isn’t going to weasel his twink ass in on it. And I’m not third wheeling.”
“As if you would be.” Fie and Dominique had that obnoxiously pure type of friendship, like platonic soulmates, which often left Alesandra and Liam sitting on the sidelines and sharing exasperated looks. Oh well.

“If Liam is really going, I can attempt it. Though there will be a mattress.” And an air conditioned tent, though she held onto that fact. Dominique brightened, and then fell sharply back into grumpy.

“Wairt - the fuck? You’ll go cause of him, but not when I ask?” She fumed, crossing her arms but still leaning her head into the scritches.
“I’ll have someone to interact with when you and Fie go off and do… Whatever odd thing you do when camping. Antagonizing a bear or having catfish bite your hands.”
“Dude,” she laughed, “What do you think camping is?”
“Southern living?” Alesandra answered, dryly. Dominique snorted and rolled her eyes.