Red Mango

seven

11:14 AM

"Morning sunshine." Cody cringes at the tumultuous sound of Leo's pestering voice, sinking deeper into one of her old fishing jackets. With the camouflage of shaded ray-bans, last night's stray baseball cap and mud-ridden Uggs, Cody is the outright opposite of a morning person. She emerged from her tent with a hounding headache and a nauseas sensation in her stomach. Leo, however, doesn't get this visual message and takes it upon himself to approach the hungover drunk.

"You're looking insanely beautiful this morning," he grins and passes a thermos flask into Cody's clenched fists. Taking a sip from the warm, well-prepared cappuccino, Cody manages an enforced smile that resembles an eighty year old man with a toothache.

"Get lost, Leo," she snarls. The campsite looks like a horde of sorority members galloped through the area. The empty beer bottles, red solo cups and food scraps are scattered across the ground; portraying unwanted memories from last night.

"I had this wonderful dream last night. About your lips," speaking of unwanted memories, Leo nears Cody's frame, his chin brushing against her shoulder. He has clearly misinterpreted last night's accidental manoeuvres, or simply teasing her for the sake of it.

"Oh my god- Leo, please," Cody whines and shrugs off his lingering hands on her shoulders.

"I'm messing with you, Matthews." At this, Leo laughs whole-heartedly, prods Cody in her waist with his elbow and disperses from her side. The only signs of human life in the camp site exist of Leo, Camille and Kit. The remainder of the happy campers seem to be avoiding the confrontation of the morning. Whether that encounter is with the agonising pain of a hangover or the reality of the chaos that took place last night.

Cody decides to wander up the rocky trail where the sun has visibly risen early this morning, to not only clear her thoughts, but regain her dignity from Leo's grasp. She hadn't even questioned Sam about the job offer at Westbury beach, which isn't a minor alteration in the impending eight weeks of freedom. To spend the summer, lounging in a tall lifeguard chair, does sound of better quality than scooping yogurt for bikini-clad snobs.

The crunching sound of a tree branch distracts Cody from her thoughts as her eyes drag towards a figure approaching her from the campsite. Noticing Sienna's distinctive pink sweater which can be identified from a mile away, Cody smiles and wafts her friend over.

"How are you?" she asks gently, lowering her frame beside Cody on the expansive rock. Her fading red hair is cascading messily down her back, demonstrating evidence from last night's rampage.

"How am I? How are you?" Cody asks, her tone lacing in irony. She isn't the one to worry about, Sienna is.

"Hungover and regretful," she murmurs, shielding her face in her hands. With a terrible obstruction against alcohol, Sienna tends to fall as the first victim. And Cody knows for a fact that it doesn't bring out Sienna's good side.

"What happened to you last night?" Cody asks carefully. She had observed from a distance how the fiery redhead almost hurled herself at Gigi when she became distracted by Kit's insignificant exchanges with Camille.

"It scares me how much I like him," Sienna mumbles and groans inwardly. Her reference to Kit causes Cody to contemplate the three, love-struck friends. Aspen seems to be the only musketeer screening her emotions towards Kit, whether it is to preserve her friendship with Sam, or to conserve her self-esteem. Aspen isn't one to make grand gestures, Gigi and Sienna, on the contrary.

"You scared everyone by almost assaulting Gigi," Cody says calmly, watching Sienna's face drop in grave embarrassment. She seems to have vaguely lost the ability to recall last night's manoeuvres; something that certainly won't help her apologise to Gigi.