“I wish the whole twenty-twelve, end-of-the-world thing would happen already. I can’t wait ’til December.” Charlie said, putting more wood in the campfire. He leaned back as sparks jumped up at him.
“What? Why would you even say that?” I looked up at him, my eyes squinted from the brightness of the fire. The wind blew my hair into my face.
He shrugged, “Well, the way I see it, if it’s going to happen, let it just happen. Why make us suffer longer?”
“We’re not suffering! We’re having fun right now, see? Camping under the stars with your best friend, what could be better than that? Why would you want it to end?” I stared at him, realized I was whining, and stopped. “Isn’t it best if we don’t know, anyway?”