Top Bunk

DAY 24

⌚ 6:00 AM ON THE DOT

When that horn - El has given up with using expletives on the ancient thing; it's not worth the trouble - thrusts El out of her not-so-deep slumber, she feels despicably tired. Not that it's a new feeling or anything, but she usually wakes up kind of groggy but still ready to take the day by the neck and wring it out for what it's worth, even if it's before seven in the morning.

Though today, she wakes up to see Grace in a powdery pink bikini, just about to pull a magenta kimono around her amazing figure. Her make up isn't as heavy today, just a bit tweaking with her eyebrows and that lipgloss. El recalls it tasting of strawberries - she almost hits herself for even thinking about it. Grace perches rose-tinted sunglasses (El isn't even surprised at this point) atop her blonde head and heads out, Jimmy Choo flipflops smacking the hardwood floors.

The door shuts with a silent click.

El, determined to shake herself off that tiredness, springs out from under the covers and into the shower. Everything she does is at the back of her mind, mechanical. Shampoo. Conditioner. Soap. Rinse. Dry. Then she gets out of the bathroom, towel around her, hair dripping.

Muted music booms from outside. El raises an eyebrow, puzzled, and peers out the window to find the lakeside adorned with streamers and balloons and tables lined with all sorts of food and picnic blankets lying around and large, ancient speakers booming out said music. Taylor Swift. The work of Finnegan, no less.

Suddenly, guilt creeps at the pit of her stomach. The Annual Ashwood Lake Party Extravaganza is today. Obviously, the lakeside didn't decorate itself. The counselors were meant to do that. And well, El's a counselor. She didn't do any of that.

A few choice words escape from her mouth at the thought. She thinks, here goes her chances to receive any extra credit, how could she fucking forget about The Annual Ashwood Lake Party Extravaganza, why didn't anyone wake her up? Grace should have -

Grace.

Of course she wouldn't have woken El up. Grace hates El's guts. What more than a little sabotage to quench her thirst for revenge?

So that explains why she's in that swimsuit that accentuates the curves of her -

Stop. El shuts her eyes, once, twice, to snap out of it. Yes, Grace is an attractive human being, and clouds are made of vapor. What else is new? (What's new is that El is finally noticing that in another light.)

Another problem arises soon enough. What in the earth would El wear? She obviously has the option of the swimsuit Grace loaned her, but that isn't exactly a good one, considering she and Grace aren't on good terms at all. She has the swimsuit she brought. Bright orange with little dolphins. Yeah, right. El considers just stealing another one of Grace's swimsuits, one the blonde might have forgotten about. She already knows, however, that's stupid because Grace is totally the kind of person who'd keep track of every bikini she owns.

So El wrings her hair dry, puts on a large tee shirt, steps into her crusty flipflops, and runs through the forest to get to Cabin 4.

Mari opens the door, grinning widely. "Hey, El! Not that I mind or anything, but what are you doing here?"

Knowing Mari cares deeply about this kind of thing, El says gravely, "Fashion emergency."

Mari nods knowingly, sympathetically, and ushers El in. Sky is sat on her bed as she squints at a compact mirror propped on her knee. She's adjusting a flower crown adorned with tiny lilacs perched atop her head.

"I love that color," El says, referencing the lilacs.

Sky beams and it lights up the entire room, even if that sounds cheesy. Sky really has that air about her. If Grace is pretty much an older version of Brittany, the same can be said about Sky and Laura. El can't help but smile back.