Michael drove the yellow GTO into the parking lot, the motor roared above the din of unloading cars and campers, stares following him as he maneuvered it deftly among the crowd.  It would take his father a few weeks to notice one of his favorite cars was gone, a nice parting shot on his last summer of high school adolescence.  It had been a few years since being back in Cherryville, his parents had avoided bringing him home, as if returning would cause an incident.  All it had done is cause resentment towards the parents who'd taken him away from everything he knew.<br/><br/>Cherryville had changed some over the years, it was true you don't know what you got until its gone.  They paved the Paradise, and put up a parking lot.  He had loved that cafe, fond memories of burgers with his friends came to mind but it was gone now.  Few connections left in Cherryville Michael thought the camp would be a chance to recall  some pleasant times.  He had come here with his closest friends when he was younger.  Now it looked, smaller.<br/><br/>Bags in hand followed the signs to registration, his muscles rippling under the tight t-shirt as he effortlessly swung the heavy over his shoulders.  The people at the registration table gave tired smiles from behind the cheap sunglasses, each dressed in thin, printed t-shirts, "name?"  The lady gave an appraising glance over his blonde haired, 6' 4' frame as he towered over her table.<br/><br/>Dropping a bag, kept one over his shoulder showing off a bulging bicep, "Kavanaugh, Michael."  She slowly handed him a packet with his cabin assignment and camp information, flashing her a dimpled smile, "thanks babe."  A blue eyed, mischevious wink as he leaned down to get his bag, she gave a slight giggle in response, her cheeks blushing slightly in the sun.<br/><br/>The camp had aged worse than expected over time, the paint on the timbers was old and cracked.  A summer slumber hung over the camp, as if it was waking up with the arrival of everyone, the smell of a thousand nights of bonfires and weiner roasts filled his senses.  Everything looked functional but without the fun.  Youthful memories faded with each step, a friendly smile on his lips as he greeted other campers already excitedly planning their weeks ahead or catching up with old friends.  In the assigned cabin, small steel framed beds with thin mattresses were lined up, dropping his bags on and empty one by the back wall, dust shaking out of the joints of the bed.<br/><br/>Sighing, whispered to himself in disappointment, "what did I expect?"