-eng- Camp With Mom And My Annoying Friend Who ... Site

Mom raised an eyebrow but smiled.

I stared at him. All this time, the chatter wasn’t noise. It was a shield.

Mom just smiled and started unpacking the tent poles. I, however, was already calculating how many hours until we went home. Leo’s chatter didn’t stop as we gathered firewood, set up the tent (which he nearly collapsed twice), or even as we ate dinner. He talked about video games, a weird noise his knee made, and the philosophical implications of hot dogs. -ENG- Camp With Mom and My Annoying Friend Who ...

The next morning, Mom suggested a hike to Raven’s Rock—a steep, two-hour trail that ended in a panoramic view. “Perfect,” I thought. “Maybe Leo will get tired and shut up.” I was wrong.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” I asked. Mom raised an eyebrow but smiled

It started with a text from Leo: “Dude, your mom said I could come. Pack extra s’mores.” My stomach dropped. Leo was the kind of annoying that made teachers ask him to “please take a deep breath.” He talked during movies. He tapped his foot in libraries. And now, he was coming to my sanctuary—the quiet, predictable world of canvas tents and campfire smoke.

Leo still talks too much. He still taps his foot, asks weird questions, and ruins every quiet moment with a joke. But now, I don’t hear noise. I hear a friend who’s fighting his own silence the only way he knows how. And Mom? She just winks at me from the driver’s seat, because she knew all along. Camp wasn’t about escaping my annoying friend. It was about learning to listen to him. It was a shield

“I know I’m annoying,” he said, poking a log. “My dad says I don’t know when to stop. But when I stop… the quiet gets loud, you know? Like, in my head. It’s scary.”