The Roof of Theodore Roosevelt Cabin, Monday Evening

[thismaskiwear]

It could probably be argued that the roof of the cabins wasn't the best place to be when your purpose for being up there was to consume as much of the bottle of Jack Daniels and two packs of cigarettes (mostly that latter although the former was probably a concern too) you'd brought up there with you, but shut up, she'd brought a soda can for an

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[youcantfollow]

"Hey cabinmate," Griff said, climbing up onto the roof. "You look set for a long one." Perhaps he should turn around.

[thismaskiwear]

Katchoo grunted. Great, had to be one of the male cabinmates. She'd been way too close to enough maleness in the past couple of days as it was. Gyah.

"There were complications hauling the fridge up. Damn shame, that."

[youcantfollow]

And here he was one who could actually help with that problem. Were she not sarcastic as hell. "Cord catching on everything? Hate when that happens."

[thismaskiwear]

Too bad she wouldn't care enough to find out he could help with that if she ever was serious about the fridge, huh?

"Stupid cord," Katchoo said, her voice as flat as it got with all that sandpaperiness. (Maybe it was a fine grit sandpaper? Fine grit sandpaper that had 'go the hell away' imprinted in diagonal patterns across the back?) She took a swig of the Jack and dug for a cigarette. "Shoulda stuck to an ice chest."