Page 3 of A Little’s Campervan (Pride Camp 2025 #3)
Emmie
C hristie stared at Emmie. “You thought I was going to make you coming hiking?”
“You made me come camping!”
“Yes, but I knew that there’re aspects of this that you’d really like. I wouldn’t make you do something I know you’d hate.”
“So you don’t mind if I don’t come? Wren said she might take me to some of the viewpoints that are a little more easy to reach.”
That had Christie’s eyebrows shooting up, and Emmie got the distinct impression that her little sister thought that she had to look after Emmie. “You’re going off into the outdoors with a stranger?”
Emmie crossed her arms and scowled at her sister. “You do know that I manage splendidly out in the big wide world, thank you very much. Stop treating me like a baby; you’re the younger out of the two of us.”
“Yes, but I have street smarts!”
Dana snorted at that, and didn’t change her response when Christie glared at her. “You know how much I adore you, but street smart is not exactly a phrase I’d use to describe you.”
“You are both wildly underestimating my ability to smart the streets.”
“Just as you’re underestimating my ability to look after myself,” pointed out Emmie, not unkindly. “Wren is one of the organisers here, and knows her way around the area. We’ll be fine.”
“Hmph,” said Christie, but gave in.
It did have Emmie feeling a certain way though.
She definitely didn’t want to be mollycoddled by her little sister, but at the same time it made her wonder what it would be like to have a romantic partner looking after her.
She’d met enough of the Stuffie Hospital staff to know that a number of them were Littles, and she had her suspicions that Christie and Dana’s dynamic might lean that way too, but she’d never explored it herself before.
It wasn’t because she was difficult, because Emmie really didn’t think that she was, however she was particular. It was just common sense; if you know that loud noises might be a trigger, have some earplugs on hand.
Emmie always had earplugs on hand. She was very good at looking after herself, but when Wren had offered the alternative to hiking she’d found herself wanting to flush and smile, and say yes please. Please take charge of all of this.
The three of them made their way over to one of the campfires as the sun began to set.
There were a couple of barbecues set up especially for the Pride Campout, and someone had set up a queer playlist. Chappell Roan began playing and Emmie couldn’t help but sing along under her breath and do a little dance as she waited in the queue for some food.
“You like Chappell Roan?” asked a familiar voice from behind her.
Emmie flushed and spun round to see a very bemused Wren. “Of course! Don’t you?”
Wren gestured at the plaid shirt that she was wearing.
“I mean, I feel like I’m embodying ‘The Giver’ right now.
” There was a short pause and then she laughed awkwardly.
“That sounded a lot more suave in my head. I’m not sure how it is that you short circuit my brain, Emmie, but it seems to happen fairly often. ”
Emmie giggled. “It was a very good attempt at suave. Top marks for effort.”
“Oh, you cheeky thing you.” Was… was Wren flirting with her? All evidence seemed to be pointing to an answer in the affirmative.
“You’re flirting with me.” Oh fuck. Emmie wanted the ground to swallow her up. Sometimes she forgot to engage her brain-to-mouth filter. Asking if Wren was flirting would have been one thing, but to just come out and make it into a statement…
“I am.” Oh. Wren didn’t seem to mind at all. “Is this your sister?”
Emmie was suddenly aware of Christie bristling next to her, all five foot nothing in dungarees.
“Yes, I’m her sister and?—”
“—I’m Dana.” Christie’s girlfriend cut across whatever it was that Christie was about to say, for which Emmie was supremely grateful. “Wren, right? Em said that you’re going to show her some of the viewpoints tomorrow?”
“Yeah, the main hike can be a bit intimidating if you’re not a regular hiker but I thought it’d be a shame if Emmie missed out on some of the sights.”
“Emmie?” mouthed Christie at Emmie. Almost everyone in Emmie’s life called her Em, and none of them realised that she had a soft spot for the nickname that she’d been told until people said she was too grown up to have such a childish name.
Emmie didn’t actually think there was anything childish about being called Emmie, and she liked how it sounded, so it’s how she thought of herself in her head. And for some reason it had felt completely natural to tell Wren Emmie.
“Come on Christie, you’re holding up the line,” said Emmie, looking pointedly towards the food.
“Oh!” That got her sister’s attention, and she hurried along, grabbing a plate and piling it up with food.
Wren picked up a plate and cutler, and offered it to Emmie, and then as they went along the buffet she served Emmie each time before serving herself, making sure that Emmie had plenty of food and didn’t even blink when Emmie refused potato salad with a slight shudder.
“Mayonnaise is the devil’s food,” she’d said by way of an explanation and all that Wren had done was laugh and move.
There hadn’t been astonishment or denial or berating and it was nice, having someone to look out for her like this.
It didn’t feel overbearing, or like it was removing her own autonomy. Just nice.
Maybe slightly more than nice.
When the four of them found a place around the campfire to sit, and Wren held Emmie’s plate whilst she got comfy, handing it back to her when she was ready.
And all Emmie wanted to do was say “Thank you, Daddy.”