12. One Spooky Night

3 0 0

That night, I couldn't sleep

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

That night, I couldn't sleep. The idea of sharing my personal space with a bunch of other people, with the added ability of watching them all night if I wished—it didn't sit well with an introvert like me. I needed space. This delicate flower was ready to fall apart. Figuratively and literally.

But I couldn't complain about space. I had an entire bunk to myself, which meant I could move up and down without crossing into foreign territory. If that wasn't called living the life, I didn't know what was.

I lay on my back, my hands folded over my stomach, my blanket tucked up to my chin. I'd always slept like this. I even continued to sleep like this when I became conscious of my spine. It curved slightly to the right. My mind screamed at me to shift in the opposite direction.

To straighten it out.

"Ha," I wanted to say. "Sucks for you, because that's not gonna happen."

I didn't have time to reflect on my slip-ups, though. How Fraser had clearly been in control of the stairwell situation and I'd barged in with ignorance. How Conner—Con—had planned to end up like that.

They all knew their places. I had run in like a madwoman and tore them up at the roots.

I hadn't seen anyone get ready for bed, either. I had ducked my head, waited in line to use the restroom, and deconstructed as quickly as I could. Not easy, considering there had been about five other girls in that bathroom with me.

In my eyes, no one had even touched their beds. I was a sucky counselor.

I was about to drift off to sleep with these thoughts when I heard giggling.

They were giggling. At ten o'clock in the evening. Those brats.

I strained my ears, trying to keep my efforts from crinkling my face. Now was not the best time to get caught.

The whispers grew louder as they approached the door.

"You think anyone's awake?" A lower-pitched voice. Still distinctly feminine.

"Shh, I already checked." A big fat liar. She hadn't checked to see if I was awake. I, the mighty dragon Ivy.

Weak name. We'll work on that.

I slapped a palm to the opening of my cave, which scared the crap out of the culprits, and twisted my torso around while lifting myself into a sitting position. Obviously, it was dark—but someone had lit a few candles for Con, and I could just vaguely make out the faces.

They were the cats in the dark.

"What are you doing?" I said, my voice slurred. At the same time, my heart pounded like crazy. What are you doing, Ivy? You're socially incompetent. This will only end badly.

Too late. I couldn't just slide back into bed and go, "Never mind, I was asleep this whole time, you kids have fun." They were my responsibility.

I hated it.

Camp LibertyRead this story for FREE!