The Boys of Summer - Fletcher/Jones - Chapter 1
Title: The Boys of Summer
Author: valquiris
Part: 1/?
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: Fletcher/Jones
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: Summer Camp isn't Tom's ideal way of spending Summer, but when he's thrown into it, what can he do? Might as well get through it without a scratch and learn a few things along the way.
A/N: Haha, here I am again. Sorry for posting too much; I just can't help it. I'm starting a new fic, but I will continue on with Uptown Boys. I'll juggle them both to the best of my abilities, and I just hope I stay sane in trying. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own McFly in any way.
• Chapter 1 •
Summer.
That time of the year where you can forget about homework or getting up early, or anything associated with school. Where you can go to the beach with your friends and just have fun under the sun until whatever-o’clock, with the waves splashing against the shoreline and destroying the sand castles you worked so hard to make. That sort of stuff is practically what summer is made for, isn’t it? I mean, it’s basically just a time for laying back and, you know, not care about anything. Isn’t it?
Then please tell me why I’m stuck in the car in this beautiful day, sunshine perfect for a bit of tanning, with luggage filled with my clothes and God-knows-what else thumping against each other in the trunk as we ride down this empty, gravel-drowned road surrounded by tall pine trees too many to count.
“Oh, cheer up, grumpy,” Dad says, turning a portion of the way to me but still keeping his eyes to the road, hiding behind shiny, black, expensive shades that he’d bought yesterday and had been flaunting them to any living creature possessing eyes ever since. “You’ll love it there. I know I did.”
“Yeah, well if you liked it, it doesn’t mean I’ll like it, too,” I argue, flipping the page of the Harry Potter book in my hands, the one I received for my thirteenth birthday last year, looking more at the sentences and the individual words than trying to decipher the events happening in them. Dad lets out a chuckle.
“That’s what I thought at first,” Dad persists, tapping the wheel to the beat of the music blaring from the radio. “But after a while, I started liking the whole outdoor-environment thing. And lots of my school friends were there too, so I wasn’t alone.”
I grimace and close the book, throwing it on the empty seat beside me.
“I don’t think any of my friends are being sent to prison this summer,” I hyperbolize, and for the first time since the ride, Mum titters a little too enthusiastically, and I look at her uneasily, an eyebrow raised.
“Oh, that’s adorable, dear,” Mum says turning to me, flashing her own pair of shades so that both sets reflected all of the sun’s rays to my face. “It’s not that bad, really, once you get accustomed.”
Like hell I will. Maybe when I start liking bananas.
“She’s right. I thought I wouldn’t last two days, but when the last day came, I was practically chained to my cabin. I didn’t want to leave!” Dad recollects with gusto, and I roll my eyes out my window to watch-surprise!-even more trees pass by. It’s all getting very monotonous, and I can feel my eyes beginning to get heavy already, as if someone’s sitting on them. Preferring sleep than my parent’s obnoxious quacks about how great and awesome Camp Diamond Lake (stupid name, if you ask me) is, I close my eyes and I rest my head lightly on the book’s cold cover.
“…sparkling blue waters! It’s amazing!” Dad bellows out, and my eyes shoot open and I sit bolt upright, visibly shaken. Mum looks at me through the rear-view mirror and laughs.
“Have a nice nap?” she asks, and Dad chuckles deeply. I glare at them.
“I was trying to sleep,” I retort, wiping the trail of wetness clinging to my cheek with the back of my hand.
“Well, I would have woken you up anyway,” Dad says just as the car stops to a halt, and he turns to me with a wide grin. A very creepy, wide grin. “You’re at Camp Diamond Lake.”
The hairs at the back of my neck bristle, and when he turns back to the windshield laughing, I really did feel like I’m going to prison. Or at least Camp Crystal Lake, where Jason Voorhees awaits the unsuspecting newcomers with his trusted rusty machete. I mean, just look at the similarity between the names. I really don’t think it’s a coincidence.
He jumps out of the car and takes in a deep breath, as if inhaling the entire camp itself, and lets out an equally powerful exhale. I sigh and grab the book, wiping the cover first on the seat to rid it of my saliva, and I push through the door with as much reluctance as one being asked to jump off the plank first in a pirate’s ship.
A strong wind nearly knocks me off my feet, and I grab hold of the door to keep steady. That was Death, I just know it. All the more reason to not go.
Dragging my feet, I walk closer to Dad and turn my head to whatever it was he’s been looking at.
We’re standing in a bluff overlooking a massive lake, Diamond Lake, I reckon, all glittering here and there with sunlight as the waves crash against each other so it looked like a blue blanket fluttering in the wind with bits of diamonds scattered all over. I guess that solves the mystery of the camp’s name.
“Smell that?” Dad declares, hands on his waist and legs spread wide. I sniff the air and look around, trying to locate whatever he’s indicating. Smelling something foul to the seven-hundredth degree, I clamp my hands on my face in a grimace.
“Smell what? The skunk?” I ask, tossing my head over to the little creature scuttling around a nearby tree, its paws digging into the earth for a fraction of a second before moving on to the next stretch of dirt. Dad laughs heartily, shaking his head and bringing a hand to block his nasal passageways as well.
“No, not that,” he says, voice muffled but still strong as ever. “I meant the camp air! It’s invigorating!”
“Dad, I really, really don’t want to go,” I plead through my hands the moment the animal disappeared from my view. “What if there’s a serial killer out there in them trees? Do you want me to die?”
“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” Mum jokes, stepping out the car and gagging a bit at the pungent odor still clinging to the air.
“Knew we shouldn’t have let him watch those Friday the 13th movies,” Dad says, waving to the other parents that have just arrived, with their children looking either vigorously excited or borderline suicidal. “Maybe we should get him settled in, yeah?”
“Sure,” Mum says, and sooner than I can turn around, they’re already unloading the trunk, setting the bags I’m to carry on the ground and lifting everything else. Hanging my head, and knowing it’s completely out of my hands to try to convince them further than I already have, I stomp over to them, kicking a discarded bottle of water crinkled beyond recognition on the way. With an elaborate sigh of frustration, I, stuffing the book in one of the green one’s outer pockets, grab hold of the handles and heave the two bags off the ground, some dirt falling from the bottom and flying in different directions, and I follow as the two integrate their way into the quickly thickening crowd all making their way to the same destination.
To be honest, I’m quite surprised to see a few familiar faces scattered in the throng; there’s Michelle from French class holding that water bottle filled with milk; there’s Mikus Virza behind her, always making my stomach feel funny with his light brown hair and sweet smile showing his perfect teeth, talking with Matt; there’s the ever-inseparable Jourdan and Karlie tittering at Mikus’s direction a few heads behind with their hands linked (you can’t miss them, really, they’re a foot taller than everyone else, except for Mikus and Harry); and speak of the Devil, there’s Harry walking over to me right now.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher,” says Harry politely after pushing between Karlie and Jourdan’s tangled hands. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Oh, just marvelous!” Dad agrees with twice the volume, startling some of the campers and scaring them more than they already are. Some scuttled further into the crowd as though he's a bear.
“And how are you feeling today, Mrs. Fletcher? You look dazzling with those sunglasses,” Harry compliments, and I roll my eyes with a headshake of disbelief. Always complimenting and sucking up to them to get what he wants; can’t blame him, though, he’s pretty charming when he needs to be, and he gets me to succumb to his requests with simple “I like your haircut”s and “did that dimple get bigger?”s.
“Why thank you, Harry. I do, don’t I?” Mum jokes, though I know she’s serious enough to notice that superiority glint in her eyes when she laughs. Yeah, Mum thinks she’s better than all the other mums. Don’t ask me why, ‘cause I don’t know.
“Would you mind if I stole Tom for a bit?” Harry requests, hopeful smile on his face, and my parents didn’t even pay a second to reconsider.
“Oh, by all means,” says Dad, and turning to me, he adds, “I told you you’ll see friends here.”
I respond with a groan as I waddle over to Harry, blurting out apologies when I smack two someones with the bags and ignoring Dad’s calls of “Have fun, boys!”
“Can you, like, not do that when I’m around?” I ask when they’re out of earshot, and he laughs. “Makes my stomach churn when you suck up to them like that.”
“Why? They like it and I get them to do what I want. It’s a win-win situation,” he replies, and I shake my head. Control-freak, enough said.
“Who else is here?” I inquire, my feelings a bit lifted at having someone to talk to and hang out with throughout this summer in Hell.
“Well, you’ve seen Karlie and Jourdan,” he says, and he looks over the others’ heads and points to them. “And there’s Mikus and Matt over there. Alberta and Jessica right between them giants. Michelle with her milk behind them. And… Oh, first guess who I saw earlier.”
“Who?”
He looks at me with a sly smile, and I raise a brow in curiosity.
“Danny Jones.”
My eyes narrow at the name.
“The Danny Jones?” I ask for confirmation, and he nods his reply.
Danny Jones is the school miscreant, not really a bully but more of a mischief-maker of all sorts; with his cronies (I always forget their names), they practice the most foul sense of pranks ever conceived. They play them on students and teachers alike, and of course, you can understand the repercussions. Let’s just say that he spends more time in detention rather than his classes and home combined.
“What sick parent would want to send him to a place full of potential victims and little-to-no individual supervision?” I babble on, looking every which way to get a glimpse of him.
“What?” Harry asks with a scoff, and I remember instantly that he’s slightly academically challenged. God, I need smart friends.
“Why would his parents put him here where he can get all them other children with his pranks?” I rephrase, hopefully well enough for him to understand. He gives an “Ohhh” of cognition and shrugs, eyes still poring over heads to pick out familiar faces.
“Better not try anything funny on me,” is what Harry says, and he slings his knapsack over his shoulder, hitting Mathilde Lepere square on her developing chest. “I’ll hunt him down.”
“I know you will,” I drift off, and at that exact moment, I see, right beside Matt, Danny with his head all droopy, and after he lets out a big yawn, I turn to Harry.
“Where’s Timon and Pumbaa?” I ask, and he tips his head to me before turning to the direction I’m looking at. Finding Danny, he shrugs again.
“Don’t know. Probably in jail or something. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
I watch Danny rub his eyes with the back of his free hand and disappear as the sea of people turned.
“Me too.”
Arriving at our destination point, I drop the bags beside my feet and stretch my arms in the air, as did a handful of people after carrying as much weight as I had. Some immediately broke into conversations, a few disentangling themselves from their previous groups to merge with other ones.
After a few more words in, a trumpet sounds from not-too-far away, and turning my head like a deer when he hears a twig snap, I make out two people, a man and a woman, standing on a platform, both with blue megaphones and camp-y uniforms.
“Hello, everyone!” the man says brightly through the megaphone, and a chorus of mumbling erupted in the little clearing. He smiles and continues on, “Welcome to Camp Diamond Lake! Where there’s fun under every rock and adventure atop every tree!”
Looking around, I see children watching him uneasily, and a smile cracks my lips when some of them back away.
“I’m Snake and this here-” he indicates to the woman “-is Ladybug! We’re your camp counselors and we’re here to make sure you get the best summer ever!”
I groan under my breath.
“Are we ready to have some fun?” the Ladybug says, taking the reins with a shrill, harpy voice with a hint of croaking, and I try to repress a laugh when some shake their heads in silent disagreement. I didn’t think so.
“Let me say it again: Are we ready to have some fun?” she says more strongly, and the majority oblige with loud whoops and “yeah!”s. The ones who shook their heads keep quiet.
“Now, with that settled!” the Ladybug squawks, and turning to Snake she adds, “Take it from here, Snake!”
“Thank you, Ladybug!” Snake replies with an overdose of enthusiasm as though we’re toddlers, and at once, I feel drawn to my Dad’s keys and stealing the car back to our house. “Before we can start, we’re going to have to give you lot your cabins. Please bear with us; it’s not going to take very long. I promise.”
And an empty promise isn’t probably one of the best ways to win the campers’ restless hearts.
The cabin assignments took no less than thirty minutes, and that was only halfway through. Mikus is assigned to Matt, someone named William, and Harry (much to my severe dismay). Karlie and Jourdan are inseparable yet again, along with Alberta and Jessica. Michelle-I wasn’t really paying attention; Mathilde and someone named Tallulah or something, the rest I forget.
The second half took as much time, if not longer, and when the crowd clears up with the different sections for each cabin member, I grow worried. The only ones left are people I don’t know, minus Danny sitting on his bag munching on a sandwich, and this, of course, makes me worry even more. I don’t want to be locked with complete strangers; more so, I don’t want to be in the same room as him. Who knows what he’ll do to my undergarments?
As the seconds pass, more people are assigned to their cabins, and when the last four move over to one of the sections, only two people are left in the clearing. And with the realization of the situation, I smile up at heaven because now I know just how much God loves me.
Only Danny and I are left. Thanks, God. Thanks a lot.
“And finally,” says Ladybug, her initial eagerness diminished greatly by the taxing work, “We have Daniel Jones and Thomas Fletcher in Cabin P.”
“Just the two of us?” I ask, the silence and the amount of space in the clearing amplifying my voice tenfold. “In one cabin? Couldn’t you have done three people in two cabins?”
I know I’m being whiny, but I don’t care. I didn’t even want to go to this stupid camp in the first place, and now they have to subject me to this penance of sharing a room with one such Daniel Jones? I’ve never been this unlucky since Harry shot me between my eyes with his pellet gun last Christmas.
“I’m sorry, little Thomas,” says Ladybug, “But this year, we had so much people coming in, we had to revive an old cabin. And the only one we could save is enough for only two people. But trust me, when you see it, you’ll want the cabin all to yourself.”
Like I don’t already?
Woodenly and slowly, I look over to Danny still eating his sandwich, eyes glazing over in either boredom or tiredness. Either way he looked unimpressed, evidently not as ticked as I am; he just keeps on chewing. Taking a sharp inhale, I hoist up my bags and amble over to him, taking my sweet little time as I try to avoid everyone’s gaze, all of which seem solely focused on me. Dropping the load beside my feet, I turn to face the counselors as they start up again, as if having recharged their batteries during my walk of shame.
“Now, with that done, let the fun begin!” Snake declares loudly, and soon enough, everyone begins saying their goodbyes to their parents. Everyone except for Danny, who only shrugs and, heaving his bags, walks over to the predetermined cabin, not even taking a second to inquire where it is. What’s up with him?
“Well, grumpy, here’s where we leave you,” Dad says as he pulls me into a bear hug, and I try to wrap my arms around his shoulders but they’re much too wide for my short arms, and I only come halfway on his back. “Don’t cause trouble, you hear?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I dismiss, moving over to give Mum a hug.
“And try to make new friends. Like that Danny boy, he looks lonely,” Mum says, and she plants a wet kiss on my cheek. Gross.
“I won’t make promises,” I say sullenly as I wipe my face off with a sleeve. “Bye.”
“Bye,” they both say, and add the bags they’re holding to mines, and with a wave, they’re out of my sight along with some of the other parents. I look at the four bags at my feet and groan. Great. How am I supposed to carry all this to my cabin?
“Hang on, little campers!” Ladybug announces, and everyone stops in their tracks, heads turned to them at once. “We’re going to give you time to get settled in, hang out for a bit with your friends, but after a certain time, we’ll sound a trumpet, and we’ll all meet here, yeah?”
Scattered replies swept over the busy clearing and I look again to the bags, scratching my head to formulate some form of remedy to the situation.
“You’re need help?”
I look up and my heart starts beating fast. Like, fast, fast. It’s Mikus with his perfect, toothpaste-ad-worthy smile and his adorable Latvian accent, and I see Matt and Harry standing behind him, that one other bloke (Barney or something?) watching their bags.
“Yeah, if you guys don’t mind,” I say with an embarrassed laugh, and from the corners of my eyes, I see Harry shaking his head.
Oh, I forgot to tell you. Harry knows I like Mikus, and I’m glad he’s not one of those people who’d just blurt out secrets like a rifle. “Secret’s safe with me,” he said when I told him, and so far, he’s keeping to it. Great friend, Harry is.
“No, I’m glad of to help,” he says, and I grin like a lunatic at his developing English vocabulary. He bends down and picks up the bag nearest me, and my heart starts racing faster; we’ve never been this close before. Matt and Harry follow suit, Harry giving me a wink as he picks up his share, and I follow them as they start to make their way to my cabin.
The walk was amazing, the highlight of the day, because Mikus talked about his life in Latvia and how it was hard to get accustomed to a new place. He even threw in some jokes, and I laughed at each one much in the same manner as Jourdan and Karlie whenever they would see him. God, what is this Adonis doing to me?
“Here’s my stop,” I say as I drop my bag in front of the door, “Thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing,” says Mikus, carefully placing the one he’s carrying next to mine. “Well, we’re go now. We’re have to putting our things in the…” he turns to Matt “…What do you call it?”
“Cabin,” Matt obliges, and Mikus nods just as he adds his portion of the work to the heap. Harry steps up and throws the bag indiscriminately to me, repressing a laugh, and I catch it just in time, mouthing “thank you” discreetly. Then, with a wave of Mikus’s hand, they’re off in the other direction, and I sit on one of the bags to catch my breath. Yeah, I’m going to need to think of something to repay Harry with.
I think this summer will be fun after all; if I can just see his face once per day, I’ll be happy. Even if I do have to tough it out with Danny. Real lucky that he’s in Harry’s cabin, though; maybe we’ll get to hang out often.
I stand up and herd my bags with a little difficulty. What did Mum pack me that are so heavy? Remembering I should open the door first, I turn the knob, twist back to the bags, and, grabbing the handles of each one, quietly push the door open with my bum.
But when I turn around to look inside once everything’s pulled in, my jaws drop, my eyes widen, and my heart starts beating quickly once again.
I’m immediately granted a front row seat to Danny’s exposed… His exposed…
“Oh, my God!”
“What the f-? Close the fuckin’ door!”
SLAM.
Then silence ensues, only broken by the rustling of fabrics and heavy breathing coming from me.
“What the hell are you doing half-nak-Where’re your trousers, for God’s sake?” I ask incredulously, keeping my reddening face to the door, a hand still on the golden knob pockmarked by sprinkles of rust.
“I’m changin’ in case you haven’t noticed,” Danny retorts angrily, clearly not amused by my invasion of his privacy and my seeing his… Yeah. “Ever heard of knockin’?”
“Sorry, sorry,” I apologize, telling myself that exact same thing in my head. But who changes their clothes in the middle of the day? “Why’re you changing, anyway? It’s not like we’ve hiked yet or whatever.”
“I’m plannin’ to sleep,” he answers, and I hear the creaking of wood the next second, “’m tired.”
“Well, you can’t,” I say contrariwise, and when I turn to him, he’s already taken the bottom bunk, hands on his stomach. “We’re supposed to meet up in the clearing after the trumpet goes off.”
He groans aloud, cupping his face with his hands and rolling on his side, back facing me. I shrug and turn back to my bags. In light of the whole event, I didn’t have the time to see the cabin, and when I finally do, my eyebrows shoot up, impressed.
The walls are made of polished wood, as are the floor and the ceiling, and hanging from there are two fluorescent lamps, one still swinging slightly from my closing the door. There’s a bunk bed at the far corner, where Danny’s already snoring in his sleep, and a large area from there to the door to serve as the living room of the cabin, I guess. It’s really quite more spacious than it looks from the outside, and there’s definitely enough space for one more bed. I don’t know what they’re playing at, really.
I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and get through it without getting in trouble. Just as long he does, and I hope to all that is great and holy that he does.
Pushing the bags to one side of the cabin, I finger-brush my hair before declaring, “I’m going now. Don’t forget the meet-up,” not caring that he can’t hear me, and soon, I was out the door and making my way towards Harry and Mikus playing football in the open field just shy from the clearing, Matt and what’s-his-face sitting on the grass and watching them play.
At least they’re there to keep me sane.
-----
A/N: If you're wondering what Mikus looks like, it's this, but, like, more younger. :)
Author: valquiris
Part: 1/?
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: Fletcher/Jones
Genre: AU, Romance
Summary: Summer Camp isn't Tom's ideal way of spending Summer, but when he's thrown into it, what can he do? Might as well get through it without a scratch and learn a few things along the way.
A/N: Haha, here I am again. Sorry for posting too much; I just can't help it. I'm starting a new fic, but I will continue on with Uptown Boys. I'll juggle them both to the best of my abilities, and I just hope I stay sane in trying. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own McFly in any way.
• Chapter 1 •
Summer.
That time of the year where you can forget about homework or getting up early, or anything associated with school. Where you can go to the beach with your friends and just have fun under the sun until whatever-o’clock, with the waves splashing against the shoreline and destroying the sand castles you worked so hard to make. That sort of stuff is practically what summer is made for, isn’t it? I mean, it’s basically just a time for laying back and, you know, not care about anything. Isn’t it?
Then please tell me why I’m stuck in the car in this beautiful day, sunshine perfect for a bit of tanning, with luggage filled with my clothes and God-knows-what else thumping against each other in the trunk as we ride down this empty, gravel-drowned road surrounded by tall pine trees too many to count.
“Oh, cheer up, grumpy,” Dad says, turning a portion of the way to me but still keeping his eyes to the road, hiding behind shiny, black, expensive shades that he’d bought yesterday and had been flaunting them to any living creature possessing eyes ever since. “You’ll love it there. I know I did.”
“Yeah, well if you liked it, it doesn’t mean I’ll like it, too,” I argue, flipping the page of the Harry Potter book in my hands, the one I received for my thirteenth birthday last year, looking more at the sentences and the individual words than trying to decipher the events happening in them. Dad lets out a chuckle.
“That’s what I thought at first,” Dad persists, tapping the wheel to the beat of the music blaring from the radio. “But after a while, I started liking the whole outdoor-environment thing. And lots of my school friends were there too, so I wasn’t alone.”
I grimace and close the book, throwing it on the empty seat beside me.
“I don’t think any of my friends are being sent to prison this summer,” I hyperbolize, and for the first time since the ride, Mum titters a little too enthusiastically, and I look at her uneasily, an eyebrow raised.
“Oh, that’s adorable, dear,” Mum says turning to me, flashing her own pair of shades so that both sets reflected all of the sun’s rays to my face. “It’s not that bad, really, once you get accustomed.”
Like hell I will. Maybe when I start liking bananas.
“She’s right. I thought I wouldn’t last two days, but when the last day came, I was practically chained to my cabin. I didn’t want to leave!” Dad recollects with gusto, and I roll my eyes out my window to watch-surprise!-even more trees pass by. It’s all getting very monotonous, and I can feel my eyes beginning to get heavy already, as if someone’s sitting on them. Preferring sleep than my parent’s obnoxious quacks about how great and awesome Camp Diamond Lake (stupid name, if you ask me) is, I close my eyes and I rest my head lightly on the book’s cold cover.
“…sparkling blue waters! It’s amazing!” Dad bellows out, and my eyes shoot open and I sit bolt upright, visibly shaken. Mum looks at me through the rear-view mirror and laughs.
“Have a nice nap?” she asks, and Dad chuckles deeply. I glare at them.
“I was trying to sleep,” I retort, wiping the trail of wetness clinging to my cheek with the back of my hand.
“Well, I would have woken you up anyway,” Dad says just as the car stops to a halt, and he turns to me with a wide grin. A very creepy, wide grin. “You’re at Camp Diamond Lake.”
The hairs at the back of my neck bristle, and when he turns back to the windshield laughing, I really did feel like I’m going to prison. Or at least Camp Crystal Lake, where Jason Voorhees awaits the unsuspecting newcomers with his trusted rusty machete. I mean, just look at the similarity between the names. I really don’t think it’s a coincidence.
He jumps out of the car and takes in a deep breath, as if inhaling the entire camp itself, and lets out an equally powerful exhale. I sigh and grab the book, wiping the cover first on the seat to rid it of my saliva, and I push through the door with as much reluctance as one being asked to jump off the plank first in a pirate’s ship.
A strong wind nearly knocks me off my feet, and I grab hold of the door to keep steady. That was Death, I just know it. All the more reason to not go.
Dragging my feet, I walk closer to Dad and turn my head to whatever it was he’s been looking at.
We’re standing in a bluff overlooking a massive lake, Diamond Lake, I reckon, all glittering here and there with sunlight as the waves crash against each other so it looked like a blue blanket fluttering in the wind with bits of diamonds scattered all over. I guess that solves the mystery of the camp’s name.
“Smell that?” Dad declares, hands on his waist and legs spread wide. I sniff the air and look around, trying to locate whatever he’s indicating. Smelling something foul to the seven-hundredth degree, I clamp my hands on my face in a grimace.
“Smell what? The skunk?” I ask, tossing my head over to the little creature scuttling around a nearby tree, its paws digging into the earth for a fraction of a second before moving on to the next stretch of dirt. Dad laughs heartily, shaking his head and bringing a hand to block his nasal passageways as well.
“No, not that,” he says, voice muffled but still strong as ever. “I meant the camp air! It’s invigorating!”
“Dad, I really, really don’t want to go,” I plead through my hands the moment the animal disappeared from my view. “What if there’s a serial killer out there in them trees? Do you want me to die?”
“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” Mum jokes, stepping out the car and gagging a bit at the pungent odor still clinging to the air.
“Knew we shouldn’t have let him watch those Friday the 13th movies,” Dad says, waving to the other parents that have just arrived, with their children looking either vigorously excited or borderline suicidal. “Maybe we should get him settled in, yeah?”
“Sure,” Mum says, and sooner than I can turn around, they’re already unloading the trunk, setting the bags I’m to carry on the ground and lifting everything else. Hanging my head, and knowing it’s completely out of my hands to try to convince them further than I already have, I stomp over to them, kicking a discarded bottle of water crinkled beyond recognition on the way. With an elaborate sigh of frustration, I, stuffing the book in one of the green one’s outer pockets, grab hold of the handles and heave the two bags off the ground, some dirt falling from the bottom and flying in different directions, and I follow as the two integrate their way into the quickly thickening crowd all making their way to the same destination.
To be honest, I’m quite surprised to see a few familiar faces scattered in the throng; there’s Michelle from French class holding that water bottle filled with milk; there’s Mikus Virza behind her, always making my stomach feel funny with his light brown hair and sweet smile showing his perfect teeth, talking with Matt; there’s the ever-inseparable Jourdan and Karlie tittering at Mikus’s direction a few heads behind with their hands linked (you can’t miss them, really, they’re a foot taller than everyone else, except for Mikus and Harry); and speak of the Devil, there’s Harry walking over to me right now.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher,” says Harry politely after pushing between Karlie and Jourdan’s tangled hands. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Oh, just marvelous!” Dad agrees with twice the volume, startling some of the campers and scaring them more than they already are. Some scuttled further into the crowd as though he's a bear.
“And how are you feeling today, Mrs. Fletcher? You look dazzling with those sunglasses,” Harry compliments, and I roll my eyes with a headshake of disbelief. Always complimenting and sucking up to them to get what he wants; can’t blame him, though, he’s pretty charming when he needs to be, and he gets me to succumb to his requests with simple “I like your haircut”s and “did that dimple get bigger?”s.
“Why thank you, Harry. I do, don’t I?” Mum jokes, though I know she’s serious enough to notice that superiority glint in her eyes when she laughs. Yeah, Mum thinks she’s better than all the other mums. Don’t ask me why, ‘cause I don’t know.
“Would you mind if I stole Tom for a bit?” Harry requests, hopeful smile on his face, and my parents didn’t even pay a second to reconsider.
“Oh, by all means,” says Dad, and turning to me, he adds, “I told you you’ll see friends here.”
I respond with a groan as I waddle over to Harry, blurting out apologies when I smack two someones with the bags and ignoring Dad’s calls of “Have fun, boys!”
“Can you, like, not do that when I’m around?” I ask when they’re out of earshot, and he laughs. “Makes my stomach churn when you suck up to them like that.”
“Why? They like it and I get them to do what I want. It’s a win-win situation,” he replies, and I shake my head. Control-freak, enough said.
“Who else is here?” I inquire, my feelings a bit lifted at having someone to talk to and hang out with throughout this summer in Hell.
“Well, you’ve seen Karlie and Jourdan,” he says, and he looks over the others’ heads and points to them. “And there’s Mikus and Matt over there. Alberta and Jessica right between them giants. Michelle with her milk behind them. And… Oh, first guess who I saw earlier.”
“Who?”
He looks at me with a sly smile, and I raise a brow in curiosity.
“Danny Jones.”
My eyes narrow at the name.
“The Danny Jones?” I ask for confirmation, and he nods his reply.
Danny Jones is the school miscreant, not really a bully but more of a mischief-maker of all sorts; with his cronies (I always forget their names), they practice the most foul sense of pranks ever conceived. They play them on students and teachers alike, and of course, you can understand the repercussions. Let’s just say that he spends more time in detention rather than his classes and home combined.
“What sick parent would want to send him to a place full of potential victims and little-to-no individual supervision?” I babble on, looking every which way to get a glimpse of him.
“What?” Harry asks with a scoff, and I remember instantly that he’s slightly academically challenged. God, I need smart friends.
“Why would his parents put him here where he can get all them other children with his pranks?” I rephrase, hopefully well enough for him to understand. He gives an “Ohhh” of cognition and shrugs, eyes still poring over heads to pick out familiar faces.
“Better not try anything funny on me,” is what Harry says, and he slings his knapsack over his shoulder, hitting Mathilde Lepere square on her developing chest. “I’ll hunt him down.”
“I know you will,” I drift off, and at that exact moment, I see, right beside Matt, Danny with his head all droopy, and after he lets out a big yawn, I turn to Harry.
“Where’s Timon and Pumbaa?” I ask, and he tips his head to me before turning to the direction I’m looking at. Finding Danny, he shrugs again.
“Don’t know. Probably in jail or something. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
I watch Danny rub his eyes with the back of his free hand and disappear as the sea of people turned.
“Me too.”
Arriving at our destination point, I drop the bags beside my feet and stretch my arms in the air, as did a handful of people after carrying as much weight as I had. Some immediately broke into conversations, a few disentangling themselves from their previous groups to merge with other ones.
After a few more words in, a trumpet sounds from not-too-far away, and turning my head like a deer when he hears a twig snap, I make out two people, a man and a woman, standing on a platform, both with blue megaphones and camp-y uniforms.
“Hello, everyone!” the man says brightly through the megaphone, and a chorus of mumbling erupted in the little clearing. He smiles and continues on, “Welcome to Camp Diamond Lake! Where there’s fun under every rock and adventure atop every tree!”
Looking around, I see children watching him uneasily, and a smile cracks my lips when some of them back away.
“I’m Snake and this here-” he indicates to the woman “-is Ladybug! We’re your camp counselors and we’re here to make sure you get the best summer ever!”
I groan under my breath.
“Are we ready to have some fun?” the Ladybug says, taking the reins with a shrill, harpy voice with a hint of croaking, and I try to repress a laugh when some shake their heads in silent disagreement. I didn’t think so.
“Let me say it again: Are we ready to have some fun?” she says more strongly, and the majority oblige with loud whoops and “yeah!”s. The ones who shook their heads keep quiet.
“Now, with that settled!” the Ladybug squawks, and turning to Snake she adds, “Take it from here, Snake!”
“Thank you, Ladybug!” Snake replies with an overdose of enthusiasm as though we’re toddlers, and at once, I feel drawn to my Dad’s keys and stealing the car back to our house. “Before we can start, we’re going to have to give you lot your cabins. Please bear with us; it’s not going to take very long. I promise.”
And an empty promise isn’t probably one of the best ways to win the campers’ restless hearts.
The cabin assignments took no less than thirty minutes, and that was only halfway through. Mikus is assigned to Matt, someone named William, and Harry (much to my severe dismay). Karlie and Jourdan are inseparable yet again, along with Alberta and Jessica. Michelle-I wasn’t really paying attention; Mathilde and someone named Tallulah or something, the rest I forget.
The second half took as much time, if not longer, and when the crowd clears up with the different sections for each cabin member, I grow worried. The only ones left are people I don’t know, minus Danny sitting on his bag munching on a sandwich, and this, of course, makes me worry even more. I don’t want to be locked with complete strangers; more so, I don’t want to be in the same room as him. Who knows what he’ll do to my undergarments?
As the seconds pass, more people are assigned to their cabins, and when the last four move over to one of the sections, only two people are left in the clearing. And with the realization of the situation, I smile up at heaven because now I know just how much God loves me.
Only Danny and I are left. Thanks, God. Thanks a lot.
“And finally,” says Ladybug, her initial eagerness diminished greatly by the taxing work, “We have Daniel Jones and Thomas Fletcher in Cabin P.”
“Just the two of us?” I ask, the silence and the amount of space in the clearing amplifying my voice tenfold. “In one cabin? Couldn’t you have done three people in two cabins?”
I know I’m being whiny, but I don’t care. I didn’t even want to go to this stupid camp in the first place, and now they have to subject me to this penance of sharing a room with one such Daniel Jones? I’ve never been this unlucky since Harry shot me between my eyes with his pellet gun last Christmas.
“I’m sorry, little Thomas,” says Ladybug, “But this year, we had so much people coming in, we had to revive an old cabin. And the only one we could save is enough for only two people. But trust me, when you see it, you’ll want the cabin all to yourself.”
Like I don’t already?
Woodenly and slowly, I look over to Danny still eating his sandwich, eyes glazing over in either boredom or tiredness. Either way he looked unimpressed, evidently not as ticked as I am; he just keeps on chewing. Taking a sharp inhale, I hoist up my bags and amble over to him, taking my sweet little time as I try to avoid everyone’s gaze, all of which seem solely focused on me. Dropping the load beside my feet, I turn to face the counselors as they start up again, as if having recharged their batteries during my walk of shame.
“Now, with that done, let the fun begin!” Snake declares loudly, and soon enough, everyone begins saying their goodbyes to their parents. Everyone except for Danny, who only shrugs and, heaving his bags, walks over to the predetermined cabin, not even taking a second to inquire where it is. What’s up with him?
“Well, grumpy, here’s where we leave you,” Dad says as he pulls me into a bear hug, and I try to wrap my arms around his shoulders but they’re much too wide for my short arms, and I only come halfway on his back. “Don’t cause trouble, you hear?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I dismiss, moving over to give Mum a hug.
“And try to make new friends. Like that Danny boy, he looks lonely,” Mum says, and she plants a wet kiss on my cheek. Gross.
“I won’t make promises,” I say sullenly as I wipe my face off with a sleeve. “Bye.”
“Bye,” they both say, and add the bags they’re holding to mines, and with a wave, they’re out of my sight along with some of the other parents. I look at the four bags at my feet and groan. Great. How am I supposed to carry all this to my cabin?
“Hang on, little campers!” Ladybug announces, and everyone stops in their tracks, heads turned to them at once. “We’re going to give you time to get settled in, hang out for a bit with your friends, but after a certain time, we’ll sound a trumpet, and we’ll all meet here, yeah?”
Scattered replies swept over the busy clearing and I look again to the bags, scratching my head to formulate some form of remedy to the situation.
“You’re need help?”
I look up and my heart starts beating fast. Like, fast, fast. It’s Mikus with his perfect, toothpaste-ad-worthy smile and his adorable Latvian accent, and I see Matt and Harry standing behind him, that one other bloke (Barney or something?) watching their bags.
“Yeah, if you guys don’t mind,” I say with an embarrassed laugh, and from the corners of my eyes, I see Harry shaking his head.
Oh, I forgot to tell you. Harry knows I like Mikus, and I’m glad he’s not one of those people who’d just blurt out secrets like a rifle. “Secret’s safe with me,” he said when I told him, and so far, he’s keeping to it. Great friend, Harry is.
“No, I’m glad of to help,” he says, and I grin like a lunatic at his developing English vocabulary. He bends down and picks up the bag nearest me, and my heart starts racing faster; we’ve never been this close before. Matt and Harry follow suit, Harry giving me a wink as he picks up his share, and I follow them as they start to make their way to my cabin.
The walk was amazing, the highlight of the day, because Mikus talked about his life in Latvia and how it was hard to get accustomed to a new place. He even threw in some jokes, and I laughed at each one much in the same manner as Jourdan and Karlie whenever they would see him. God, what is this Adonis doing to me?
“Here’s my stop,” I say as I drop my bag in front of the door, “Thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing,” says Mikus, carefully placing the one he’s carrying next to mine. “Well, we’re go now. We’re have to putting our things in the…” he turns to Matt “…What do you call it?”
“Cabin,” Matt obliges, and Mikus nods just as he adds his portion of the work to the heap. Harry steps up and throws the bag indiscriminately to me, repressing a laugh, and I catch it just in time, mouthing “thank you” discreetly. Then, with a wave of Mikus’s hand, they’re off in the other direction, and I sit on one of the bags to catch my breath. Yeah, I’m going to need to think of something to repay Harry with.
I think this summer will be fun after all; if I can just see his face once per day, I’ll be happy. Even if I do have to tough it out with Danny. Real lucky that he’s in Harry’s cabin, though; maybe we’ll get to hang out often.
I stand up and herd my bags with a little difficulty. What did Mum pack me that are so heavy? Remembering I should open the door first, I turn the knob, twist back to the bags, and, grabbing the handles of each one, quietly push the door open with my bum.
But when I turn around to look inside once everything’s pulled in, my jaws drop, my eyes widen, and my heart starts beating quickly once again.
I’m immediately granted a front row seat to Danny’s exposed… His exposed…
“Oh, my God!”
“What the f-? Close the fuckin’ door!”
SLAM.
Then silence ensues, only broken by the rustling of fabrics and heavy breathing coming from me.
“What the hell are you doing half-nak-Where’re your trousers, for God’s sake?” I ask incredulously, keeping my reddening face to the door, a hand still on the golden knob pockmarked by sprinkles of rust.
“I’m changin’ in case you haven’t noticed,” Danny retorts angrily, clearly not amused by my invasion of his privacy and my seeing his… Yeah. “Ever heard of knockin’?”
“Sorry, sorry,” I apologize, telling myself that exact same thing in my head. But who changes their clothes in the middle of the day? “Why’re you changing, anyway? It’s not like we’ve hiked yet or whatever.”
“I’m plannin’ to sleep,” he answers, and I hear the creaking of wood the next second, “’m tired.”
“Well, you can’t,” I say contrariwise, and when I turn to him, he’s already taken the bottom bunk, hands on his stomach. “We’re supposed to meet up in the clearing after the trumpet goes off.”
He groans aloud, cupping his face with his hands and rolling on his side, back facing me. I shrug and turn back to my bags. In light of the whole event, I didn’t have the time to see the cabin, and when I finally do, my eyebrows shoot up, impressed.
The walls are made of polished wood, as are the floor and the ceiling, and hanging from there are two fluorescent lamps, one still swinging slightly from my closing the door. There’s a bunk bed at the far corner, where Danny’s already snoring in his sleep, and a large area from there to the door to serve as the living room of the cabin, I guess. It’s really quite more spacious than it looks from the outside, and there’s definitely enough space for one more bed. I don’t know what they’re playing at, really.
I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and get through it without getting in trouble. Just as long he does, and I hope to all that is great and holy that he does.
Pushing the bags to one side of the cabin, I finger-brush my hair before declaring, “I’m going now. Don’t forget the meet-up,” not caring that he can’t hear me, and soon, I was out the door and making my way towards Harry and Mikus playing football in the open field just shy from the clearing, Matt and what’s-his-face sitting on the grass and watching them play.
At least they’re there to keep me sane.
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A/N: If you're wondering what Mikus looks like, it's this, but, like, more younger. :)
