The Arrangement [ON HOLD]

Chapter 13: Condoms Galore, a Cabin, & The Great Bra Debate.

Sorry it's a day later than I wanted! Wifi sucked ass yesterday. Anywhore! On with the story.<3

And thanks for reading<3

Super Non-Edited! Dx I just can't edit very well anymore because for some god-forsaken reason I can't like choose something to be BOLD or whatever XC Ugh. Whatever! XD

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Chapter 13: Condoms Galore, a Cabin, & The Great Bra Debate.

Have you ever gone to camp? You know, your Mom feels the need to pack everything in your bag including cans of food and extra toilet paper? But, after she tries to pack you a portable waffle maker, you have to put a stop to the madness.

The last (and first) time I went to camp was when I was eleven.

Why didn't I continue? Because of my Mom's excessive packing and worrying, and letters and phone-calls.

It had been suffocating.

I never wanted to feel that way again. But here I was, trying to pack a bag for one weekend, pulling out wasp repellent, and rope, and lighter fluid, and-

Oh my god.

She didn't.

Oh my god. She did.

"MOM!" I screeched.

"What? What's wrong? What is it?" she rushed into my room.

I held up the box, "you packed me freaking condoms!?"

She shrugged, wincing, "better safe then sorry?"

I threw them at her, ignoring that she had even bought the special pack.

Ooh. Ribbed (for her pleasure), normal, and....flavored? Why would they be...Oh. Nevermind.

"What is wrong with you?" I groaned.

"Is it bad that I was sort of rooting for it to happen?" she giggled.

"Why the hell would you hope for that? I am barely sixteen! I'm your daughter!"

"It would bring you two closer!"

"No! Leave!"

She left. Thank goodness.

I pulled out more things she had shoved in, including the waffle maker (why mom? WHY!?),

and...morning after pills.

Jesus, she really wanted this to happen.

Too bad, bitch.

After I packed, I called Carrie to come over so we could have some best friend time before I left tonight.

"Do you remember that time at-"

"Band camp?" I laughed, interrupting her.

"You totally ruined it. Stupid movie quoter," she muttered with a grin. "Anyway! Remember when we were eleven and went to-"

"Band camp?"

"Fuck you!" she threw a pillow at my head, "no. When your Mom packed you that waffle-maker at camp?"

Yeah. My mom had snuck it in my bag somehow, anyway.

Bitch.

"Yes, I remember," I rolled my eyes, "believe me."

It had been embarrassing, to say the least. I wasn't (and continued to be) not one of the skinniest girls girls on the block. I wasn't too chunky, but I had enough flab to know I wasn't slender like the other girls.