Within five minutes, I've got her shit straightened or put away, the towels folded correctly, and the bottles in the shower corralled in the basket hanging over the showerhead. When it's neat once more, I automatically relax. I can pretend the rest of the room isn't an issue in the dark.
I go to bed mostly satisfied but also too aware of the woman sleeping six feet from me in her fluffy comforter. She's the kind of complicated I don't need in life. I'm not sure I want to know more about her, though I'm not sure I'll have the choice after a week with her.
If there's anyone I should keep distant from, it's her. That much I know, even if I'm not yet sure why.
***
My alarm goes off at five, an hour before sunrise. It's the time I always get up. From what I've read about kids, controlling them is dependent on managing their energy levels. Which means, before our day officially starts, we're going to do some drills.
I roll out of bed, refreshed and ready for the first full day of camp.
"Katya," I call quietly. "Lights on."
I give her a minute and go to the bathroom to change and get ready. When I return, I flip on the lights.
She hasn't moved.
"Katya," I say more loudly. "Time to get up!"
"What?" she replies sleepily, and pulls a pillow over her head. "What time is it?"
"Five."
"We don't have to be at breakfast until eight."
"Come on. We've got work to do."
"No way."
Why do I have a feeling she's going to be harder to manage than the six kids we're assigned?
Rather than arguing, I go out to wake up everyone else. The light going on wakes half the kids. Pulling out my phone, I flip through my music files, turn up the volume, and blast Reveille.
The piercing, quick-paced bugle song can wake a man from the dead. Its effect is immediate.
The kids bound up.
I hit pause. "Good morning, team," I start. "You have ten minutes to get ready and be outside in a line, tallest to shortest. Understood?"
They're staring at me. A few nod.
"Understood?" I repeat in sharper tone.
"Yes, Captain Mathis," two chirp. Their words are echoed by others.
The team gets up, grabbing their clothing and bathroom bags in varying degrees of urgency and head out of the barracks to the community bathrooms located at the center of the barracks.
Except one. We have a range of kids in our group, from the sixteen-year-old girl and boy, to the six-year-old girl still sitting in her bed. She's blinking back tears, and I wait.