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Taylor grabbed Jessica’s arm, pointing at the picnic tables buried under crumpled wrappers and soda cans. “This is *disgusting*,” she groaned, kicking an empty chip bag. “Let’s just go home.” Jessica crouched, plucking a dented water bottle from the dirt. “Your mom’s gonna ask if we tried,” she said, tossing it into her backpack. Taylor huffed but yanked a torn trash bag from her gear. They scavenged the firepit, untangled plastic ribbons from bushes, and filled three bags before the campsite breathed again. “Okay, *fine*,” Taylor smirked, wiping sweat. “Now where’s those fairy lights?” Jessica rigged a clothesline between pines while Taylor stacked flat stones into a makeshift grill. By dusk, their lanterns glowed, marshmallows charred perfectly, and the campfire crackled over a clean slate of dirt. “Not bad,” Taylor admitted, flopping onto her sleeping bag. Jessica grinned. “Your mom’s gonna freak.” They fell asleep to crickets, not trash rustling—mission accomplished.
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