According to Plan

Chapter 6

"Anderson football camp. Boys, this is your stop," the driver nodded his head.

I smiled, "thank you, sir!"

"Just make sure you boys don't jump infront of anymore semis."

We nodded, said our goodbyes, then jumped off the truck with our luggage. The semi sped off, leaving a trail of dust. And off in the fields, I spotted two goal posts standing tall and stiff.

"We're here!" I shrieked and hugged Billy.

Billy sighed, "remember your manliness, Stella. None of that."

"Oh, right," I nodded firmly then ran across the road to the entrance.

Billy followed, reluctantly dragging our luggage.

"Names?" the man at the gate asked.

"Steve Morner and Billy Fisher. They should be on there somewhere," I replied.

He grunted, checked off something on the paper, then nodded his head for us to go in.

It was already half past eight by the time we arrived. I stepped in and all I could smell was dirt, and football.

I clapped in excitement and rushed to the bulletin board.

"Fisher, Fisher, Fisher... Ahah! Here you are, Billy. Dorm 3A, bunk 2. And I am.... Dorm 3A bunk 7."

"Great," he said sarcastically, "Stella, there's one thing you may not have realized before you had this brilliant idea."

I gave him a look, "and what is that?"

"This is a boy's football camp, meaning you'll have to use the boy's restroom and showers," he laughed, "good luck with that."

My jaw dropped open... He's right. That totally slipped my mind. Well this should be interesting. I grabbed my luggage and followed behind him.

Dorm 3A was at the very end. Toilet paper was strewn across the entrance and someone had spray painted "come in if you dare" across the door.

I gulped.

Billy swung open the door and a waft of sweat, aftershave, and gas hit me all at once. I winced and stepped in. The place was already a mess and camp hadn't even begun yet. Empty soda cans were lined up on a desk, seeming to form a half-destroyed pyramid. Socks hung on the chairs, next to someone's smelly football cleets. Dirty styrofoam dishes were strewn across the floor. Half-eaten pizza slices were scattered across someone's bed and an overflowing trashcan was the cherry on top of the cake.

I gagged and fought the instinct to run out. Not even my brothers' room was as messy as this.

"Hello?" someone called from the corner.

Billy and I gave eachother a look. We thought the room was empty. I looked around the corner. A poor boy with big round glasses, and jelled back red hair, hung on a hook by his underwear.

I gasped and rushed to him, "are you okay?"

He raised a brow.

I bit down my lip, then cleared my throat and deepened my voice, "I mean, you okay, dude?"

He scratched his head, "I think I'm beginning to get a rash to be honest. I don't know how long I've been up here for."

I sighed, "who did this?"

He pushed back his glasses, his voice was a bit nasally, "I don't even know. I went for a nap and woke up like this. Could you get me down?"

I nodded and called Billy over. We hoisted the boy down from the hook. Ouch.

"Thanks, guys. I'm Reese by the way."

"I'm Billy and that's Steve. Did your parents make you come here, too?"

He nodded, "every year."

"So where is everyone?" I asked

"Probably out partying," Reese replied, "want my advice? Run. Run as far away as you can before they get back."

He grabbed his bag of cheesies then went out the door.

Billy gave me a look and plopped on his bunk.

My bunk buddy had chosen the bottom. A picture of a race car and some model was plastered against his wall. I kicked off my shoes and climbed on the top bunk.

"This is going to be a long summer," Billy said from across the room.

I nodded and took in a breath, "you got that right."