Camp With Mom And My Annoying Friend Who Wants ... -

Max spent the rest of the evening sulking by the “ruined” fire, while my mom and I sat on a log, eating warm hot dogs and watching the stars emerge. For a moment, it was just us—the way I had imagined. But then Max shuffled over with his portable espresso maker and asked if anyone wanted a “proper” decaf latte. No one did. He made one anyway, using our only pot of clean drinking water.

She was right. I had invited him because, despite the annoyance, Max was loyal, enthusiastic, and deeply, clumsily kind. He wanted to fix everything because he cared too much. And my mom, by refusing to let him fix anything, had taught him a lesson no YouTube video could: that some things—friendship, a campfire, a quiet night under the stars—are already whole. They don’t need fixing. They just need showing up. Camp With Mom And My Annoying Friend Who Wants ...

My mom looked at me. I looked at the sky. The fish finder beeped on. Max spent the rest of the evening sulking