Cabin Three // h.s. au

e i g h t e e n

Ares Invades the Camp
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e i g h t e e n

"Okay, here's the plan, Jan-"

"My name isn't Jan."

"But 'Jess' and 'plan' do not rhyme."

"But it's not my name, Harry."

"Okay, we can discuss the details now as the whole forest is engulfed in fire and brimstone. Would you like to begin a diagram?" He tutted.

I paused. "I'm sure there is no brimstone, Harry."

He sighed exasperatedly, grabbing his hair as he bent over and tugged harshly on the dark locks, muttering, "For God's sake."

"Maybe the scotch was a good idea," I whispered, bending down to meet his face, waiting for him to open his eyes.

He didn't open his eyes for a while, so I took it upon myself to do it for him.

Placing one hand on his forehead, I used my thumb to scoop up his eyebrow, lifting his eyelid. He opened the other eye quickly and shooed my hand away. "Would you f.ucking stop it, Jess?" He groaned, and I stepped back away from him and tightly brought my fists to my sides.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry," he muttered, walking back over to me. "It's just, I do a lot of s.hit to this camp and David kind of installed a three strike policy each summer, and you know, I already ruined that kayak-"

"I thought we just flipped it?"

"No," he began, "I damaged it beyond maintenance." He was clearly stressed, as he rubbed the side of his face with a helpless expression. "And then, I had the whole camp eat those berries. That was a bad one. Then the list of words that I gave you, I should've been out then, but he told me if I didn't do anything else, I'd be okay for the rest of the summer." He plopped down on the dirt below him, bending his legs up and resting an elbow on each knee, holding his head in his hands. I took a deep sigh, looking at him, and said,

"Maybe I could take the blame for you."

His head perked up. "You would do that?" He inquired, looking confused.

"Yeah," I shrugged.

"Well, I would totally take you up on that offer, but destruction of forest kind of has my name written all over it." I nodded. "Okay, anyway, here's the plan," he muttered in that so very slow voice of his as he got up from the ground. I reached out and helped pull him up. "You're going to go back to your cabin. You're going to say that you never left your cabin, and if anyone says they spotted you, tell them that sometimes you go to the restrooms but you're so tired that you can't even remember. Make sure the window is shut that I climbed in. I'll take care of the ladder." Sometime through the conversation he must've had the idea to hold my face, because he was literally just talking to me while gripping either side of my cheeks (a/n- face, guys.) with his large palms.

"Okay," I began, "but one question."

"Anything," he said, still holding my face."

"Why are you touching my face?"

His hands didn't move, they stayed attached. "I don't know, I've always seen it in movies when the guy is trying to keep the girl safe."

"Awh," I cooed. "Are you trying to keep me safe?"

He stared blankly at me. "Yeah, why?" I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go tell David, run from him as fast as I can, and sneak into my hiding spot with a couple bottles of scotch."

I giggled, looking up at him. He was so pretty.