Fandom Qᴜᴀʀʀʏ ᴀᴛ ᴅᴀᴡɴ, 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧. [IC]

[sunshineysoul]

MOOD: gay panic meets goth girl defense

WRITERS: hotsauce + sunny!

LOCATION: The Village

basics

MENTIONS: N/A


INT: Miriam and Leilani

tags

TL;DRMiriam and Leilani "recognize" each other from high school. Miriam thinks Lani is scared of her, when in reality Lani is doing Lani things and panicking over a pretty woman.

tl;dr

MIRIAM X LEILANI

better run for the hills, run for the hills, run

Leilani breathed out as she had waved the last of the campers out of the lodge. Arts and Crafts went off without a hitch or hiccup, aside from maybe the occasional camper getting a new paint stain on their skin or clothes. As soon as the campers were out of ear shot, she walked over to the radio and turned down the music; there was only so much uplifting, bubble-gum pop music that Lani could take at one time. Especially with the current state of affairs that the counselors found themselves in. And especially Lani.

Her hands rested on her hips as she surveyed the room. She had no idea how she did it, but the large majority of her campers never seemed to have a problem not making a mess. There’s always a bit of accident when it comes to painting, but Leilani never had too much trouble cleaning up after everyone. As she looked around the room, she looked at everyone’s painted rocks, drying in the sun. There was so much personality in each and every one of them, there was a small part of her heart that swelled with pride. Seeing such young people, just like she was once, being able to tap into the creative part of their minds, and funnel it into something they could physically make.

Glancing at the watch on her wrist, Lani knew she should hurry and clean her area. It was still fairly early in the afternoon, but she wanted to take some time and walk the camp grounds. With all the turmoil sturred in her relating to Renee’s disappearance as well as the disappearances of two other counselors, she needed to ground herself, or clear her head, or hell just distract herself with something. The longer she thought about Renee, the more her heart tightened and her stomach tied in knots. The secrecy of their relationship was eating her alive, she knew how her friends thought of Renee, how much of a bully she was to all of her friends. And yet she couldn’t help but have felt love towards Renee. Sure Renee was a bully to her too in the beginning, but the more they spoke, the more time they spent together, the more Leilani realized that Renee was just misunderstood. Renee didn’t know how to handle her emotions, she didn’t know how to express her thoughts and feelings. But Leilani felt she came to understand her. To her, Renee was a beautiful masterpiece, full of complexities beyond the naked eye. It truly took experienced eyes, someone with a head and heart for acquired tastes, someone who knew the history and context behind the painting, to truly appreciate it.

And though her heart screamed, she couldn’t tell anyone. It was a secret she had to keep to herself, for the sake of her friendships, and for the sake of herself. If word spread enough, it would get back to her father, and that was truly Leilani’s biggest fear. Her father’s intolerance mixed with his temper spelled nothing but danger for the artist.

So she chose to suffer in silence. And if she was going to do that, she needed to take a walk around the damn camp ground from time to time.

Leilani shook herself out of the spiral she was falling down. After turning to her radio and pushing a few buttons, some more refreshing music started filling the room. It was different than the pop she had earlier, more heavy in a sense, but somehow still refreshing for Lani.

She made quick work of cleaning up everything, emptying out the cups of paint water into the dirt outside, ensuring all the paint brushes were clean, and throwing away all the used cups and plates. Carefully, she made sure to line up all the freshly painted rocks outside the lodge on a large stump. It was a stump that got good sunlight most of the day, and she knew from past years that the rocks always dried and set beautifully after a day on the stump.

Once the Arts & Craft room was back in order, Lani wanted to get some fresh air. She checked that everything was in her bag: pocketbook, spare candy bars, a few pencils, a stray marker, and the random tape she found earlier. After turning off the radio on the shelf, she made her way out of the lodge and began following the beaten path.

Miriam sighed with relief once all of the kids had run off to their next activity or free time, whatever the case may be. She hardly cared, so long as she knew that she was done–and to a lesser extent, that the kids were away from the mystery of the woods, a mystery she longed to explore, but not just yet. Right now, she needed a quick rest before she embarked on her little sleuthing journey across the camp, determined that she could find some sort of evidence that would let her know the truth behind the disappearances. Between her affinity with the beyond and her keen observational senses, Miriam was more than certain that she would find something. Or at least, that was what she told herself. If she were to help these people, it would be embarrassing for her to fail in such a boring and mundane way. If there was anything to be found, Miriam would find it.

With that thought, she walked back in the direction of the cabins. She was already tired from having to interact with several unruly children–already one of her least favorite activities–and she figured a brief respite would do her good. As she traipsed through the campgrounds, she again wished that she had thought to bring more comfortable footwear; as cute and alternative as her boots were, they were not the most comfortable option she could have chosen. But sneakers were ugly and didn’t match her aesthetic–even black ones made her look (shudder) athletic. Not to mention the way that she had to pick up her long, flowy black skirt a few times when the terrain got more muddy or dirty. Clearly a long skirt was not the best choice for her first day, either. But who cared? They said beauty was pain, after all, so Miriam must look gorgeous.

As she was deep in thought, she realized that she was nearing the Village again, smiling softly with a bit of relief that she could rest her feet for a little while before she set off to examine the campground and familiarize herself with the territory. But as she neared the little cabins, all neatly tucked away like something out of a movie, she noticed a familiar figure nearing the area as well. Miriam had known that it was entirely possible for her to come across someone she knew from high school or just around the town here, considering that she and Nic both lived so close to the campsite itself, but she had been hoping that she wouldn’t meet anyone she knew. Yet here was someone who already struck a chord of recognition in Miriam, which made her frown slightly. This girl had gone to her high school, hadn’t she? She was a little younger than Miriam, if she remembered correctly, just a girl she’d thought was pretty, albeit probably not someone who liked the black and blue-haired mystic, considering the amount of times Miriam had caught her staring after her goth makeover. Great. The last thing she needed right now was someone who already hated her; she was plenty capable of making enemies without the lingering high school tension.

But if this girl was around back before the disappearances of the Evergreen sisters, it would be helpful to get a rapport going. She highly doubted that she’d get a response about the missing girls from someone who only knew as a newcomer, and probably a witch or demon worshipper at that, if the rumors that had reached Miriam herself were anything to go by. Might as well start off on the right foot. She was going to rest after this anyway, so what was one more awkward social interaction?

“Hey,” she called as she got closer, giving a half-hearted wave. “Is this your first year as a counselor here too?”

Leilani’s head as involuntarily torn from watching the ground as she walked to someone calling out to her a few feet in front. It took a few paces before her feet stopped and she took in who was speaking to her. Someone familiar, someone with a striking enough look that Lani would never forget. It was a girl who went to her high school when Lani first moved from Hawaii. There was a small smile on her lips as she realized her gothic look hadn’t changed from the last time she remembered. She never remembered ever actually speaking to this girl, but she always kicked herself looking back. But now here she was, actually talking to her?

“Hi!” Her greeting came out a bit too perky to be even remotely believable, but Lani tried to continue on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Oh no, this is actually my third year being a counselor, and eleventh year at camp total! Not that you asked that last part…” Lani’s voice became increasingly quieter towards the end of her statement. Why was she nervous to speak to this girl? She wasn’t intimidated, and even if she was, Lani was normally great at speaking to new people! Was it because this was someone she knew in high school? And who knew the kind of rumors that had been spreading around about her in high school? Get it together Lani, she probably doesn’t even remember you, just chill the eff out. “But it’s your first year! How exciting! Are you enjoying it here so far?” The nervousness was almost as noticeable as stink-lines coming off a pile of garbage; her tell? Lani’s hands would not stop jittering; fidgeting with her watch, wringing her hands together, picking at the dried paint on her shorts, her nerves were running the show, but Lani still did her best to be “normal”.

Miriam raised an eyebrow at the other woman’s display, hand on her lips as she tried to parse out what was happening. She was certainly friendly enough; she seemed quite personable, in fact, but her obvious nervousness made me Miriam bite back a sigh. Not another person who had doubtless fed into the rumors about her being crazy. And here she was starting to think this summer camp might not be so bad after all. Why else would this girl be nervous? Miriam started to narrow her eyes before catching herself. Even if she’s freaked out by you, no need to be a bitch. Besides, you want to be friends if you’re going to get any information out of her, don’t you? And that was that. She could be nice…when she wanted to. And there was a part of her that felt almost guilty that her mere presence freaked this girl out so much. She tried not to care what others thought about her, but she didn’t like when people were afraid of her, for god’s sake.

“Exciting, yeah,” she echoed half-heartedly, wondering distantly if she would get in trouble if she smoked in front of the kids. Luckily, she didn’t have any cigarettes on her at the moment since her dress lacked pockets, but that was probably for the best anyway. She really needed to kick the habit. “You’re basically a camp veteran then, huh? Well, isn’t that something.” She thought for a moment, considering. “It’s been fine so far. I’ve never actually been to a summer camp before, so it’s definitely new.” That much was obvious, given how little her outfit suited this particular venture. But she refrained from adding snarky comments about her appearance to the conversation. She rather liked her style, so it didn’t really matter. She was going to wear her makeup and goth clothing every day if she could help it, practicality be damned. “I’m guessing you like it a lot here, if you’ve been coming back for so long.”

Lani felt the smile on her face grow, “Oh, yeah I guess you could call me a veteran,” the more she talked about the good things at camp, the more the nervousness calmed in her voice “This place became a second home to me when we moved here from Hawaii. School was kinda sucking and it was nice to reconnect with nature out here,” her hands still fidgeted, but not nearly as much as in the beginning of their interaction. This familiar counselor continued talking as if she didn’t know her, so maybe Lani was in the clear after all, “And then I made pretty good friends with people here, I honestly think I became closer with my camp friends than anyone at school. Mr. Evergreen’s been doing a great job running the camp,” she tried to continue highlighting the good parts of camp. If anyone were to ask, she would say it was to steer suspicion away from the disappearances, but honestly it was her own way of clearing her head and calming her nerves. If she thought about good things, then everything would be okay.

Well, for a camp that had two disappearances, this girl sure seemed to think highly of it. That spoke for something, and did make a small spark of suspicion find its way into Miriam’s chest. The other counselor was sure talking up the camp, almost like she was dependent on it for something. Though despite the thread of distrust that Miriam innately had for the nervous woman, she couldn’t help but feel in her gut that whatever had happened, it wasn’t her fault. But Miriam was sure this girl knew something. And she was sure she knew this girl.

“Speaking of school, did you go to Fairview High?” Miriam asked, examining her nails as she did so. The black paint was a bit chipped on her left pinky, annoyingly, but otherwise the color remained intact. She glanced up after a moment, wondering if she needed to add some sort of explanation for her question in case she was mistaken. Though she doubted that she was. “You look like someone who went there a few years ago.” She shrugged. Someone who definitely thought I was crazy, she added mentally, though the girl’s nerves had seemed to calm down the more she talked about camp. Maybe avoiding the topic of Miriam helped. She held back a snort at that. Of course it did. What nice, normal person would want to be associated with the local crazy goth girl?

[color=#83aabe[i]Shit. [/i][/color]Leilani did her very best to hang on to the smallest bits of calm she had found in the false reality of this counselor not remembering her. She took in a shaky breath before responding, “Yeah, I did! I’m guessing you did too?” Yep, play dumb, the thing you do best.

Interactions like this truly made Lani despise herself, and the facade she kept up for everyone around her. The constant fear of her true self being exposed wore away at her every day. Most days it was easy, being able to simply play the part she had so carefully constructed and rehearsed for years on end. Then there were a few days here and there where a wrench was thrown into her performance, an attempt to throw her off her balance; and truth be told it often worked, whether there was intention behind it or not. It had always been hard for Lani to keep her cool in high-stress situations, which never paired well with her anxiety telling her that the most mundane interactions were indeed high-stress.

Another deep breath filled her lungs and rushed out through her nose. If you can just keep it together, stop acting like an idiot, then it’ll be fine.

Yeah, this girl definitely thought Miriam was crazy. She got all cagey and uncomfortable the moment the topic of high school was broached. Not that Miriam blamed her for it; she has hated high school herself and didn’t enjoy discussing it either. She just had to be sure that she wasn’t actually going crazy when she had recognized the other counselor.

“Yeah, you got me,” she smirked. “I went there, too. High school was such a shit show.” She laughed. “Oh, my name’s Miriam by the way.” In case she only remembers me as “witch girl” or something. Though that hopefully wasn’t the case.

Miriam, that’s pretty, Lani thought to herself before she realized she should probably introduce herself as well, “It’s very nice to officially meet you, Miriam! I don’t remember if you were in my class or not, but I’m Leilani,” her smile was genuine, almost wanting to reach out her hand for a handshake, before realizing that would be really weird of her to initiate. Instead, she shoved her hands into the shallow pockets of her shorts. Her fingers ran into something hard and cool, smooth on one side and rough on the other. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw it was a painted rock; one with a light blue background and a black smiley face, it was one she had made when ensuring the paints were mixed well enough. Lani’s genuine smile morphed into a more giddy grin as she held the rock in the middle of her palm, extending her hand out to Miriam, “You want a painted rock? I made it before the hoard of campers came to Arts & Crafts,”

Miriam blinked, surprised at the gesture. A gift? Instantly she was suspicious. Was this some sort of prank? But Leilani’s beatific grin suggested otherwise. Either this woman was a really good actor, or she was genuine. And as much as Miriam didn’t trust anyone besides Nic at this camp, she wanted this interaction to be genuinely positive, so she could at least accept the rock since nothing about it lept out at her for being an immediate red flag. She gingerly took the rock from Leilani, her fingers brushing the other counselor’s palm briefly as she did so. She tried not to think about the contact, holding the rock in her hand since she didn’t have any pockets to drop it into.

“Thanks, Leilani,” she responded, repeating her name to ensure she remembered it. It sounded familiar, but she knew they hadn’t shared any classes, or at least not that Miriam remembered. Something told her that she would recall interacting with Leilani. “So is that your job this year, then? Arts and crafts?” She could easily picture this sunshiney girl leading the children in an artsy activity like painting rocks, shepherding them like an older sister. She clearly enjoyed her job. So she probably wouldn’t appreciate Miriam poking around about the sisters. Maybe that could happen later, then; as much as she would not have admitted it, she was actually not minding the conversation just chatting with Leilani.

“Yeah!,” Leilani did everything she could to keep her mind off the small tingle that surged through her body at the slight graze of Miriam’s fingers on her palm. Attempting to bring her arm back to her side at a very normal pace, she tried to focus on talking. The conversation was turning towards art, definitely something Leilani could talk about, “It’s the only job I’ve had at this camp. Being a bit of a self-proclaimed artist, I really enjoy helping little ones find their creative spirit,” Her smile had previously faltered when Miriam plucked the rock out of her hand, but it quickly went back to genuine, “That sounds like I’m really stuck up and stuffy, I’m not a real artist by any means,” Lani quickly tried to recover the fumble or misstep of words she had imagined, “I’ve just always enjoyed drawing and painting and any venue of art, really,”

Miriam scoffed, glancing from the rock she was holding to Leilani. “‘Real artist’ is anyone who makes art that they put their heart into,” she responded emphatically before looking away, slightly embarrassed by the outburst. She was quite passionate about art herself, though she’d never admit it. And it was much easier telling someone else they were an artist instead of saying that she was one when she hardly felt her own shitty paintings warranted the title for her. “Anyway, I don’t think you’re stuck up or anything, so don’t worry about that. It’s good that you get to do what you love.” And she meant it. Part of her was jealous that Leilani had so clearly found her passion, though she admittedly quite enjoyed her job of being a hairstylist as well. She just wasn’t as sure that the nature counselor job suited her as well as art clearly suited her companion.

“And the rock is cute.” She gave the other woman a small smile, being genuine in her compliments. She really shouldn’t get too close to anyone here for fear it would impede her investigation, but she supposed having a friend here would be helpful. Besides, it felt nice when Leilani’s nerves eased. Maybe she wasn’t hated after all.

A new kind of smile danced on Leilani’s lips as a subtle tint rose to her cheeks and her eyes sheepishly “checked her watch”. Lani would be dumbfounded to explain why she had that response to a simple compliment over a small rock, but she chalked it up to her emotions being haywire anyways and cleared her throat to speak. “Well, thank you, it’s not my best work but I wouldn’t call it my worst either,” Somehow emboldened, Lani’s eyes looked back up to Miriam’s simply admiring how her dark makeup, however intense, seemed to only enhance the beauty she knew Miriam had. “So where are you headed now? Maybe I could walk with you to make sure you don’t get lost? Not that I think you’d be easily lost, I just figured maybe you’d want some company? But it’s okay if you don’t too! I won’t be offended!”

… Way to keep it cool, Leilani….

Miriam blinked again, surprised at how quickly Leilani could go from nervous to bubbly to nervous again, though admittedly she seemed like a very bubbly person in general. Maybe she was still freaked out by Miriam; she was certainly staring at the goth girl’s makeup hard enough that Miriam could sense she was being judged. Every time she thought someone was being friendly, they looked a little too hard at her lip ring or excessive use of dark eyeshadow and decided she was weird or creepy. She suddenly felt even more tired. Leilani was so sweet; Miriam really didn’t want to deal with the sort of too-friendliness from trying to hide one’s nerves. As genuine as her fellow counselor seemed, something about Miriam clearly made her anxious. It hardly took a genius to put two and two together to see what it was.

“I appreciate the offer, but I was just going to take a short nap in my cabin.” She punctuated this with a small yawn. “Though if you’re dying to show me around, I guess I do need to know where things are at some point.”

“Oh! Well it certainly doesn’t have to be right now… I wouldn’t want to keep you from your beauty sleep! Not that you need beauty sleep, because you’re incredibly pretty. Shoot, I didn’t mean that to be weird, sorry, I’ll let you get to your nap.” by the end of yet ANOTHER outburst, Lani was clenching her teeth together in a desperate attempt to shut herself up. It was truly a blessing that she had such an absent homophobic father. If he ever paid any attention to her interactions with pretty girls, he’d have her figured out an in instant.

“It was nice officially meeting you, Miri,” Leilani said to Miriam as she began to turn on her heel.

Miriam was seriously having trouble figuring this girl out. On one hand, it seemed like Leilani liked her enough, but her nervousness made Miriam seriously start to doubt that. Even if she seemed genuinely nice, Miriam wasn’t used to clicking with such bubbly personalities so quickly. In her experience, more friendly and extroverted people seemed to either avoid her or get weird around her, probably due to her reputation preceding her around these parts. But at the compliments, she was thoroughly confused.Does she actually think I’m pretty or was that just her being scared to offend me? Does she think I’d curse her if she says something that could be perceived as mean? Or, more likely, she was a people pleaser. Miriam had certainly met a few of those before, and so far the art counselor seemed to fit the bill.

At the use of the nickname, though, Miriam couldn’t help the warmth on her cheeks. No one called her that except maybe Nic or Miriam’s mom. It felt oddly intimate; a fitting end to a similarly confusing interaction. But…pleasantly confusing? Was that even a thing?

“Um, thanks?” she responded, raising an eyebrow. As Leilani turned to leave, she added, “Yeah, nice meeting you too. See you around, Leilani.”

code by valen t.

 

[hotsauce]

miriam berry

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sleater kinney

dig me out

After the strange interaction with her coworker, Miriam headed toward her cabin, glancing back at Leilani as the other woman walked off. She smiled to herself, cheeks still warm at the familiarity with which she had been addressed. At the very least, she was hopefully getting Leilani to warm up to her after being freaked out by her mere presence. It was a weird thought, but maybe actually talking to the other counselors could get some of her former peers to change their minds about her, well, less than stellar reputation around town. She’d already spoken to some of the campers, who seemed to understand her better now, and Leilani was friendly, if a bit nervous around the local weird goth girl.

She was buoyed by a light sense of hope as she headed in the direction of her cabin, nearly running into a tree as she glanced back one more time at Leilani. She stopped just shy of hitting her head on a low-hanging branch, embarrassed at how close she had come to making a fool out of herself. Not to mention how annoying it would be to redo the foundation that would have come off in the process. She huffed, frowning, before noticing something lighter-colored at the base of the tree. What is this? she asked herself, peering down for a closer look. It seemed to be a wallet. God, not even two full days of camp and someone had lost their wallet already. But she was a curious person by nature, and it wouldn’t hurt for her to see whose wallet it was so she could return it later.

As she opened the lavender wallet, complete with little white daisies–Was this a twelve-year-old’s wallet?--she noticed the license first. As she plucked it free of its case, she studied the picture, a photo she had seen numerous times in her research of this case, a photo that had been on the news last year. It appeared the owner of the wallet was none other than Renee Evergreen. Her leaving it behind suggested that she either hadn’t left camp of her own volition or had intended to run away off the radar, but the cash left inside didn’t make as much sense if one subscribed to the second theory. A piece of the huge, murky puzzle that was the disappearances began to slot into place. Miriam bit her lip, glancing around to make sure no one had seen her before hurrying off to her cabin and settling into her bunk, reopening the wallet to study its contents more closely.

The information on the wallet lined up with everything she knew about Renee Evergreen, and it seemed legit, so Miriam was starting to be more certain her theory that Renee had not left of her own volition. She pocketed the cash–it wasn’t like a dead girl needed money–and examined the credit cards. Unsurprising that one was in her father’s name, given how notoriously rich the Evergreens were. But there was something she hadn’t initially seen, tucked behind the cash that Miriam had snatched up. She pulled a polaroid out of the wallet, immediately noting the familiar face of the woman she’d just spoken to. Leilani, you seemed awfully close with Renee, she thought, a small smirk playing on her lips. She supposed she really would have to nurture her budding friendship with this girl; Leilani might know more than Miriam would have guessed. It seemed her new friend was entangled with the mystery, and Miriam was determined to get to the bottom of it. She would be spending more time with Leilani in the future–for the purposes of the mystery, of course. Not like she was eager to spend more time with the art counselor for any other reason besides learning more about the missing girls and getting the young woman to drop her preconceived notions of Miriam’s devilishness. She wasn’t shallow enough to want to spend time together because the girl was pretty, for god’s sake.

And with that discovery made, Miriam hid the wallet amidst her belongings and went to sleep. When she woke up, she was going to continue her search of the camp. If that wallet was just laying there near a tree, surely more evidence could be found. There was something more at play here than two girls getting lost in the woods, and Miriam was determined to find out what.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[anyasjoy]

MOOD: clarisse (nervous, but content) billie (excited to make a friend!)

OUTFIT: n/a

LOCATION: dining hall -> farmyard

basics

MENTIONS:
clarisse ( AI10100 )

INT:
...

tags

TL;DR they chased chickens, vaguely talked about the evergreens—simple camp stuff. (trust me)

tl;dr

chasing chickens

clarisse lowell & billie lennon

The information was a lot to take in, too much to take in really. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who thought so as Levi stormed out of the dining hall first. Couldn’t blame him at all, Leon’s complete change of topic was uncalled for.

Clarisse needed to go for a walk or just do something, anything, to take her mind off of the state it was in. Unlike the previous year, she couldn’t just disappear into nothingness to grind out her assignments and readings for the next month or so just to feel something. No, she was stuck in the camp for two weeks with reminders of the missing people everywhere she went. Something sick entered her mind as she surveyed the others. A couple of the counselors loved Lisa, Clarisse knew that, and seeing their sadness with the news filled a part of Clarisse that she tried to bury with some sick satisfaction.

That’s how it feels. Can you see it now?

The moment the thought entered her brain, Clarisse had to turn around and head out of the dining hall, her mug of coffee still in hand. Maybe she could return later to grab a snack for a bite to eat or something. She just had to be any place but there. The thought itself brought her a great amount of shame. As if Rowan and Connie hadn’t already been through enough with Paige gone. Don’t think like that. You’re starting to sound like- She took a deep breath as she exited the dining hall, the calm breeze giving her some reprieve for her thoughts to slow down.

She needed to look for something to do, but barging into Arts & Crafts for the sole reason of trying to busy herself wasn’t going to be a good look. Clarisse wouldn’t even know how to help even if she did. Maybe she could bother Ricky again, or talk to Liberty, or catch up with Lou… or maybe she could look around for Joey. But how could she even face the girl considering how close she was to Lisa too? She was running out of options faster than she could make them up and it was a sobering reality to know that she couldn’t run to Renee nowadays to deal with this.

Billie sat anxiously in the dining hall beside Vivienne, her eyes darting between the campers filing out and the scattered counselors lingering around the room. Leon’s speech had done little to calm the crowd—in fact, it had only heightened the rising panic, which was understandable given the circumstances. The mention of playing truth or dare had been the final straw for a few people, making the room feel so much smaller.

He means well, she thought, a frown deepening on her face as she caught sight of Leon’s obvious distress. A door slammed behind her, punctuated by a laugh echoing through the hall. Irritated, she spun around and zeroed in on the individual who’d had the nerve to laugh before slipping outside. What an asshole.

One person in particular caught Billie’s eye—a girl huddled in the far corner, clutching a drink and looking as though she’d seen far better days. Curiosity piqued, and true to her nature, Billie flashed Vivienne a small smile, gave a quick wave, and offered a quiet, “See you later, promise.” She’d catch up with Leon some other time.

With a quick step through the door, the crisp morning air hit her face, a chilly reminder of the fading warmth inside. She scanned the outside area and spotted the girl, still alone, seeming even more withdrawn in the bright light.

“Hey, um. Are you—” Okay? Seriously? Billie held back the question, scolding herself for nearly blurting out something that sounded careless because of course she wasn’t. Instead, she slid up beside the girl, offering a small, soft smile she hoped wasn’t too intrusive, aiming for some semblance of comfort. I can literally feel how tense she is. Jesus.

“You look like you could use a distraction,” she offered gently, doing her best not to overwhelm—she knew she could be a lot, sometimes even too much. “You’re a counselor, right? The name’s Billie.” She extended a hand between them, trying to ease herself into the conversation naturally. “The new…um…the new farmer, actually.” Nice one, Billie, real smooth. A frown broke out from her thoughts, nervously drawing her hand away before shifting her weight to rest against the nearest wall. “I’m really sorry about Lisa.” she added quietly, her eyes reflecting empathy. Is it too late to awkwardly walk away and save us both the embarrassment?

Clarisse flinched at the sudden intrusion, not expecting that someone would approach her so suddenly, so soon even. Though she was even more surprised that she hadn’t noticed it. Was she letting her guard down nowadays? It was far too late to fix her composure but she attempted to anyway. She listened, patiently, until Billie seemed to finally pause for long enough that Clarisse took that as her turn to speak.

“Billie.” She started, committing it to memory. It was a familiar name but she powered through to answer the next ones. She reached out to shake her hand. “Yeah, I’m Clarisse. Pleasure.” She wished she could say it with more enthusiasm. It was always nice to get new counselors, they usually brought something fresh to the table. Though, typically, they’d be easy pickings. She thought idly.

"Clarisse." That’s such a pretty name. "That’s such an awesome name." It wasn’t one that was common where Billie was from, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to how unique it sounded—at least to her. Their handshake was brief, but she gave a slight, friendly squeeze before pulling away. Clarisse seemed pretty normal; maybe she wouldn’t be the worst person to talk to around here after what happened in the Dining Hall.

Awkwardly, Clarisse began rubbing the back of her neck. “Thanks, er, I’m… Lisa was a good co-worker.” She felt worse about the idea that another person had disappeared rather than Lisa, specifically, being the one to do so. She shook her head. “Still, welcome to Camp Evergreen. It’s not usually, you know, all bad news.” Recently, it feels like it has been all that.

Billie immediately picked up on the tension, thoughtfully stepping back to give her a bit of space. "So I’ve heard. Jonathan Evergreen—um, actually walked me in this morning. He didn’t…look all there, I won’t lie." She hesitated, hoping it would get better—for him and for the camp.

She looked at Billie oddly for a moment before shaking her head. “Yeah, Mr. Evergreen hasn’t been the same since…” She knew that she couldn’t judge him on that. None of them had been the same since the disappearance— it was easy to see when you knew what to look for.

Not wanting to dwell on the topic, Clarisse continued. “Timely appearance, really. I know what Ramona’s duties are but, er, I assume you’ll be taking over Lisa’s ‘cause… yeah.” This was going terribly, what a first impression to be had. She shook her head and gestured towards the farmyard. “You wanna go see where you’ll be spending most of your time in, then?” She really hoped Billie would agree, it would be a far better topic than Lisa’s untimely disappearance and the possibility of her being dead.

Her eyes followed where Clarisse gestured, brightening slightly at the sight of the farmyard Leon had pointed out to her earlier. “Oh my god—yes, please! You have no idea how excited I am to see the chickens.” Billie spun on her heel, heading down the steps, sneaking glances from time to time to make sure Clarisse was following. She tried to keep the mood light and not too overwhelming, aware that she could sometimes come on a bit strong. But from where Billie stood, she wondered if maybe Clarisse needed a distraction more than she did. “Sooo, what’s your role this summer?”

Clarisse chuckled and gestured for her to follow, then began walking. She slipped one hand into her pocket and sipped her rapidly cooling coffee. “I’m sure they’d be happy to see a new face too.” She commented with a hum. “Macaroni too. We should probably get you introduced to him.” That dog was one of the things she missed in the camp. She wondered how big he had gotten since she last stepped foot there.

“Oh, I was the sub Leon mentioned earlier.” She responded kindly, looking off to the side for a moment and whistled to catch the attention of a couple of campers. Once they saw that they had been caught, they scampered off towards their next activity. “Anyway, yes, I’m one of the substitutes this summer. So, you might see more of me around to help on your activities if you need it.”

“Oh, a dog? No freaking way!” Billie exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she hurried after Clarisse’s beckoning gesture. She stuck close, her eyes darting eagerly around the camp, searching for any sign of a dog. “Macaroni is such an adorable name. I can’t wait to meet them.” Her voice was light with anticipation, a grin spreading across her face.

Clarisse nodded along in agreement. “The others named ‘em and it’s fitting I think.” She wasn’t exactly sure how they had found the dog and brought it back to camp. It was just their luck that a stray had some herding ability and was allowed to stay around and help instead of being brought to a shelter or adopted out by another counselor. “You should ask your fellow farming counselors about Macaroni. It will be a good conversation starter.”

A sharp whistle from Clarisse snapped her out of her thoughts. Her gaze shifted to the scattering kids, their laughter and hurried footsteps filling the air. “A substitute? That’s pretty neat,” she commented, her eyes flicking back to Clarisse as she matched her brisk pace.

“I have no idea how tough farming is going to be,” She admitted, her tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “But I’m excited! And I wouldn’t mind having an extra pair of hands around here. Supervisor though…feels like a job like that could be either super overwhelming or just—” She made a nonchalant gesture with her hand, it basically read: eh. “Boring. Sorry.”

She tried to mask her surprise at hearing that Billie had no experience with farming. Well, she likely was someone who had to be taken in when Lisa couldn’t make it. The idea that Mr. Jonathan had to do such drastic measures just to make sure the camp could go on despite the disappearance made Clarisse feel uncomfortable but she tried to keep her focus on Billie, not wanting to sour the excitement she clearly possessed.

“Farming is tiring, I think. Not all that tough if you know what to do, but definitely tedious.” The memories of having to do the activities when she was younger flooded into her mind then to watching Ramona and Lisa whenever she passed by as they went about their duties. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

The switch of the conversation to supervisor made Clarisse cock her head to the side. “No need to be sorry, you’re right. It does sound boring as hell.” Renee had been the supervisor before but even she wasn’t going to deny that Leon did most, if not all, the legwork during that time. Renee found it boring to run around and, well, supervise and Clarisse couldn’t blame her. It didn’t sound all that appealing. “Right now, I imagine it’s more overwhelming than boring. I don’t blame him about the whole news thing but…” Delivering something like that isn’t his job. She had to remind herself. It should have been Ms. Eva or, hell, maybe even Mr. Jonathan himself.

For a moment, Billie was caught off guard—why was Clarisse talking about Leon’s job? Confusion clouded her thoughts until realization struck. Oh…I’m so fucking dumb—I meant substitute, not supervisor. A wave of embarrassment washed over her, and she felt a little sheepish at her honest mistake. Shaking it off, she trailed after Clarisse, occasionally nodding along, her mind still replaying the slip-up.

Well, guess it isn’t so bad to learn more about Leon this way, she mused thoughtfully.

“Overwhelming—more like, why the heck was he the one delivering that news to begin with?” Billie crossed her arms over her chest, a slight frown tugging at her lips, teetering on the edge of a pout. Disappointment simmered in her eyes as she continued, “It feels wrong for me to say this, but it’s kind of messed up, no?”

She shook her head and let out a deep sigh. “It is.” For a moment, she was silent. Questioning authority wasn’t her thing, always trying to play by the rules set on them instead of breaking them like her friends often did. They probably had good reason to send Leon out instead of speaking on it themselves but no matter how she twisted it in her mind, it simply did not make sense. You’re older now Clarisse, you can speak about these things.

Shaking off the discomfort, she continued. “This kind of conversation, this kind of news, should be delivered by Ms. Eva. Not sure if you’ve met her but she’s our camp director. She should be the one there.” A familiar heat traveled through her, that small ember of anger that she knew she had to stomp down before it went out of control. She swallowed back the words and took a breath. “It’s not fair for Leon. I hope he’s holding up fine.”

Billie watched curiously, her gaze fixed on Clarisse as they fumbled so openly with their emotions. A slight frown tugged at her lips—something about the situation seemed off. She figured Clarisse must not have appreciated Leon being the one to break the news, either.

"No, I haven’t met her yet," Billie admitted, her tone light but thoughtful. "Just Mr. Evergreen." Her brows knit together as she slowed her steps to match Clarisse's pace, a hand resting under her chin in an almost exaggerated gesture of contemplation. "But the camp director?" she echoed, her voice tinted with confusion.

She mulled it over, her puzzled expression deepening. "The heck? Why wouldn’t the boss of the boss announce that then?" Her words didn’t fall on deaf ears, though. At the mention of Leon and the hope that he was okay, Billie nodded her head in agreement, her expression softening. Yeah, she thought, I really hope he’s alright too.

“God if I knew…” and I grew up around them. She wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, really she did. She loved Mr. Jonathan dearly and Ms. Eva had always been cordial and responsible whenever she saw her outside of a family setting.

“And, er, you know you can curse, right?” Clarisse reminded, trying to lighten the mood and forcing herself out of her agitated state. “Technically you can't do it around campers but no one would bat an eye if you let one slip every now and then.” Lord knows how many campers learned how to curse from overhearing them but that's just the process of growing up.

At the mention of being able to curse, a small laugh escaped Billie. On the tip of her tongue was the remark that Mr. Evergreen had said the same thing to her, but she decided to hold that bit of information back. Instead, she grinned and exclaimed, "Thank fucking god for that.”

A bright smile spread across her face as she turned to flash it at Clarisse, her energy practically radiating. As they approached the small farming section, the cheerful sound of clucking filled the air, stealing her attention away. Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my god—get me in there! I wanna see the cuties!”

Clarisse was stunned for a moment— couldn’t help but think that her companion was practically the sun against the dark and dreary day. Maybe Mr. Jonathan had a point. Maybe this is why he accepted Billie as a replacement. It reminded her of better times, of times before everything had come crashing down. God, she had always been with Billie for a few minutes and she already felt lighter. What a fun person to be around. Her and Ricky would get along. Or Leilani. I should introduce them.

It was only when she was starting to get excited about the chickens that she recovered, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah, come on.” She opened the gate into the chickens’ pen and waited for Billie before closing it again. “There’s more to farming like the greenhouse but Ramona handles that. You should probably ask her about it.” She alerted as she opened the coop and stood aside as the chickens began to pour out. She peered inside to see that their feed had already been placed. “This is going to be your responsibility Billie. Collecting eggs and bringing them to the incubator. Some of the hens are… possessive so, uh, good luck.” She gave her a cheeky grin.

A small squeal of excitement escaped the newcomer as Clarisse swung the gate open. Billie’s face lit up, her curiosity piqued by the sight of the chickens pouring out. She half-listened—or at least she tried to—as Clarisse explained the camp’s various activities. Her attention flickered like a restless flame, hopping from Clarisse’s words to the gathering animals.

“Greenhousing, huh? That’s pretty cool,” she quipped, her gaze darted to the potted plants and what appeared to be the greenhouse. Moving to the side just in time, she let out a delighted gasp as the chickens began to pour out, their clucks rising an octave now that they were outside.

“Oh my gosh, no luck needed at all!” she beamed, clapping her hands in delight at their lively parade. “I expected nothing less.” Her words came out fast, her energy bubbling over as she leaned closer to the coop, curiosity tugging at her to inspect its generous interior. Her eyes darted over the neat little nesting boxes, the occasional feather fluttering in the light breeze, before—wait. Ramona?

"Woah—hold up, Ramona? First Leon, you, and now Ramona? I'm just Billie with an I! Such cool fucking names." Her words spilled out in a lighthearted gush, emphasizing her incredulity with a laugh.

She plopped herself onto the ground, her knees pressing into the earthy soil. The chickens, seemingly unfazed by her sudden descent, clucked and strutted all around her. One particularly plump brown hen caught her attention. Billie's eyes lit up as she extended her palm cautiously, her heart thrumming with the kind of anticipation that only came from the thrill of connection—so freaking adorable!

"Where I'm from, there were at least ten Jessica's and maybe a few Dylan's and…I think Emma's." Her grin widened just a fraction, still keeping her focus on the chicken, silently praying it wouldn’t decide to peck her as she tried to make an offering of trust. "Ramona, though? You guys really upped the coolness game around here. Totally out of my league.”

She watched their newest counselor sat on the ground, for a moment falsely thinking that Billie had actually fallen, and letting herself relax upon realizing that it was just her companion being herself. Having a little bit of fun with the chickens who, while wary about them as humans within their space, didn’t seem to mind Billie’s presence all that much. Clarisse followed Billie’s gaze to a hen who seemed just as mesmerized, just as curious.

“Yeah, Ramona has a pretty name.” She mused, a little quirk on her lip, remembering the very same words that had come out of her mouth oh so long ago. She waved her hand a little dismissively. “It’s okay. I came across so many Clarisse’s when I was in college. You’ve got a cute name though, Billie. It suits you.” Clarisse slowly moved around Billie and the hen that was coming ever so closely to her.

“Looks like you already found a friend.” She crossed her arms from where she was standing before letting her gaze roam around the others before landing on a white hen, bigger than the others and she snorted. Oh, she recognized that look in that chicken’s eyes. One hen that seemed to pass down its stubbornness to its many descendants— she couldn’t believe that damn hen’s bloodline still continued.

The brown hen edged closer, its tiny steps causing Billie to hold her breath in excitement. Slowly, she extended her index finger, carefully grazing its feathery back with carefulness—wide-eyed and all. “Holy shit, are you watching me?” she whispered to no one in particular, her voice hushed and shaky with giddy restraint, not wanting to startle them all away.

Her head tilted slightly at the sound of Clarisse’s voice, breaking her trance. “Aw, thanks, Clarisse!” she said with a grin, briefly glancing up. “Luckily for me, I’ve only ever met a bunch of Billys with a ‘y’—you know, the typical male version.” She shrugged, her lips curving into a wry smile, shooting her a jokingly what can you do about it look.

Gesturing with her free hand, she beckoned Clarisse to join her in the fun. Her inviting smile faltered slightly when she noticed her friend's gaze fixed elsewhere, a distracted look on her face. Curious, Billie followed her line of sight and spotted a larger white hen standing just a few feet away. A snort escaped her, unable to hold back her amusement. “You got a bone to pick with that one?” she quipped, raising a brow.

Clarisse shifted in her stance, not breaking eye contact with the hen even as Billie spoke. “Mm, and usually they’re nicknames. Thinking back, I had a friend. He was a senior, I think? He was a Billy too, but his actual name is William. No idea where that nickname came from.” She tried using his full name before but the stink-eye that followed made her stick with the nickname ever since. She wondered how he was doing nowadays.

Billie’s observation caused Clarisse to look away, giving the victory to the hen who began to walk off once the stare-down had finished. “No, it’s…” A small bit of discomfort, thoughts that weren’t her own entered her brain. It was childish. It was stupid. But she looked at Billie who was sitting on the ground and playing with a chicken who was inching closely, now following her movement. It’s not so bad, is it? Something in the back of her mind was yelling at her not to. Billie was new, she should be cautious.

“When I was a kid, I was a camper here. I spent a bit of time chasing chickens around. That one—” She pointed at the hen. Despite looking nearly the same as the others, Clarisse could pick it out with an almost ninety percent accuracy. “ — is like a descendant of what I used to call my nemesis. I think she’s Roberta the Third? They’re pretty feisty, never really lost the protective aggressiveness that the original one had.” She shifted again, growing a bit uncertain of this openness with someone she barely knew.

It was like looking into a mirror, the way Clarisse hesitated, visibly caught in the push-and-pull of whether to speak her mind or let it stew in silence. Billie recognized that version of herself so well—the one who used to overthink every word, every moment, until she finally learned to just spit it out and move on. Shameless. Unapologetic. Free.

But discomfort was written all over her. So, she didn’t press her. Instead, she kept quiet, her attention shifting back to the brown hen, fingers tracing gentle circles on its back while giving the other space, an open stage once ready.

At the mention of chasing chickens, Billie perked up, her gaze flicking back to Clarisse with curiosity. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she straightened her posture, brushing stray strands of hair out of her face.

“Roberta the Third? Dude, another sick name,” she said with a light laugh, glancing at the hen she'd just been petting. “I was just thinking of calling this one Bee.” She gave the bird one last affectionate scratch before pushing herself off the ground, clapping her hands clean and swiping at her knees.

“So—chasing chickens, huh?” Her grin widened as she tilted her head to the side, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What’s stopping you this time? Scared you’ll lose to me?” she gestured to the chickens briefly before tossing her hair over her shoulder like a challenge, mirth still dancing behind her eyes. Live a little, just some fun!

Clarisse snickered. “Yes, well, twelve-year-old Clarisse was very creative.” It had felt right in the moment when she had screeched at the thing before charging straight at the hen which ended up with her on the dirt and the hen triumphantly standing over her. It had been a comical sight, one she was thankful that photos were unable to capture or else she doubted anyone would let her live that down. “Bee’s a good name. Cute one.” Fitting for a docile creature too.

She expected embarrassment to fill the gap of the reveal but a challenge was issued instead. And, well, Clarisse wasn’t ever one to back down from a challenge. It was one of the things Renee chided her for but it was simply an instinct she couldn’t ever bury. “Think you can wrangle Roberta the Third on your first try, newbie?” She asked, a cocky grin making its way up to Clarisse’s face as she dropped her arms, loosening her body and readying herself for the race.

Billie smiled at Clarisse’s words, her mind drifting to a much younger version of the girl standing before her, running around carelessly and chasing chickens. Must have been sweet, she thought, a soft laugh bubbling up at a memory she could share.

“Twelve-year-old, huh?” she pointed out, her eyes twinkling. “I was climbing trees for my crushes and falling out of them just as fast. What a weird time.” She jutted her hip out to the side, hands clasped together in excitement. “Oh, the name? I picked it on a whim, thought it suited the cute little hen.” She gave an invisible boop in the air, her gaze landing on the particular brown hen she was talking about, as though the gesture could somehow reach her.

The memories of climbing trees, rock walls, and boulders under the watchful gaze of two older campers who laughed and caught her hands when she slipped and it twisted to a lie. Clarisse reached up, scratching the faded scar on her cheek.

At the nickname, Billie matched Clarisse’s energy, a grin stretching across her face. “I wouldn’t make a bet, but you’re never too old to have fun.”

She mimicked the relaxed posture, letting her hands fall to her sides as she mentally prepared for the sprint. Running wasn’t her forte—preferring to stretch and breathe her way through yoga instead, at her own pace—but she was game for the challenge. “Count us down? No cheating.”

Keep yourself here. Clarisse reminded herself as the imminent challenge came— the thrill of it all grounding her in the present. She bent down to pick up a rock. “Here, to ensure no cheating. Once the rock drops onto the ground, the race starts.” With that explanation, Clarisse tossed the rock up and stepped back.

The moment the rock landed on the ground with a barely audible clack against another rock, Clarisse began to jog towards Roberta the Third. She wanted to see what Billie would do. There was no rush, they didn’t need to do anything at present and Clarisse wanted nothing more than to elongate this more easygoing moment.

With a sharp nod, Billie shot back a quick, “Got it,” but her focus wavered the moment the rock sailed through the air. She completely missed the cue to sprint the second it hit the ground. Dammit.

Now starting a few steps behind Clarisse, Billie broke into a run, her grin undeterred as her eyes locked on their target—the stubborn hen they were trying to catch. She seemed entirely unbothered at first, strutting around without a care, but that changed the moment both girls closed in.

Billie lunged forward, her hands narrowly missing their mark as Robert the Third suddenly darted off in a burst of unexpected speed. “My god, she’s slippery!” Billie called out between gasps, laughing despite herself as she picked up the chase. “You weren’t kidding!”

Clarisse chuckled as she watched Billie’s first attempt and the end result was just as expected— the hen quickly reacted and was now running around the pen in a panic knowing what exactly was happening. “Mhm, come on! Battle’s still not over yet!” She called out as she pivoted and chased after Roberta.

She attempted to cut off the hen’s route, practically herding it against the fence’s corner. She turned back to look at where Billie was for a moment before turning back to the hen who had turned around. In an unexpected motion, the chicken darted straight at Clarisse and the moment of surprise cost her the moment of capture as she reacted a second off and all she managed to touch were the feathers at the tail of the hen as it sprinted between Clarisse’s legs.

“Please, please, please tell me the others aren’t nearly as active as this one,” Billie panted, clearly out of shape when it came to running, once again grateful for yoga. She paused, one hand clutching her chest while the other rested on her hip, watching with mild entertainment at the sight of the furious chicken booking it straight towards Clarisse’s waiting arms, only to juke her last second. “Roberta the third is about to school me on my job, oh my god.”

“They aren’t.” Clarisse reassured once she turned around to watch that damn hen continue to run. She couldn’t help but feel a little bad for putting this on Billie, seeing as the newcomer looked exhausted from the chase. “Think of her as… a learning experience! A little bit of a welcome to being a farmer.” Or, well, she was pretty sure Lisa got along with most of the chickens but she kept that to herself.

It went on like that for a while—the frantic sound of running feet, sharp skids, and abrupt stops, punctuated by bursts of laughter that rang through the air. Billie, once again, barely managed to catch herself in time as the chicken darted between her legs with startling agility.

“Okay—I’m convinced this is impossible! She really is a stubborn one,” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Her fingers and palms were now caked with dirt, and her faded jeans bore a few fresh smudges from close encounters with the ground. She wasn’t bothered about it at all though, knowing it was expected to get a bit messy when taking up a farming gig. Instead, a crooked grin tugged at her lips, brushing the back of her hand against her forehead, brushing aside her strands.

“She’s going to be such a bad influence on the others,” she added, half-joking, “poor Bee.”

Clarisse stalked behind Billie at the last attempt and, just as she had hoped, Roberta the Third decided to go in between Billie’s legs and straight into her waiting hands. She quickly grabbed the chicken and brought it up, watching the hen struggle in her grip. “Thanks for the assist Billie.” She said with a grin before jerking her head back as Roberta made an attempt to peck her face. “At least she isn’t actively bullying them right?”

“No fair—you have experience,” Billie groaned, though her words were quickly chased by a wide grin that mirrored the energy around her. She sauntered toward the pair, her tone light as she added, “Rematch next time? Totally wasn’t dressed for the occasion of chasing chickens.”

Clarisse nodded. “Sure, just name the time and I’ll be here.” Her adrenaline was slowly calming down but the familiarity of it just brought her energy up again— clearly infected by Billie’s own optimism and excitement. Maybe this day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She gestured down at her outfit, sandy-colored sandals paired with jeans, a tank, and a flowy blouse she’d made herself, pride evident in the subtle flourish of her hand. “Next time, I’ll get you,” she promised, pointing at Roberta, who nestled snugly in Clarisse’s hold. Billie leaned in just enough to run a gentle finger along the chicken’s back, careful to stay out of pecking range.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if she was a bully,” Billie mused with a laugh, her finger retreating as Roberta gave a slight wiggle. “She’s so feisty—it’s almost like she enjoys watching us trip over ourselves.”

She shifted her hold so the chicken and placed her under her arm as Roberta the Third finally calmed down. “She’s definitely feisty but who isn’t up for a little bit of a challenge? But look, she’s a sweetheart.” As if Clarisse didn’t have a longstanding rivalry with the chicken, she patted the hen’s head with a finger. “We should probably bring them back into the coop. Just ring the bell, they know what it means.”

“On it!” Billie called, excitement bubbling in her voice as she seized her first real chance to do something farm-related, in responsibility at least. She dashed towards the bell, gripping it with eager hands, and gave it a hearty jingle. Her eyes widened in amazement as the chickens, one by one, began flocking back to the coop.

Not all of them followed suit, though—a few stragglers stubbornly lingered, their rebellious spirits on full display. The Newcomer trailed after them, laughing lightly as she bent down, waving her hands gently to nudge them forward.

She watched as Billie dutifully herded the chickens back to the coop. Something about her felt so familiar now that she could stand and ruminate on it, memories of when she was far younger and someone else shone just as brightly. She bit her cheek, turning to look back down on Roberta so as not to appear downtrodden. If you were here Paige, would you have liked her? The thought came unbidden but not entirely unwelcome. Maybe she could do things right this time.

“So, how come a substitute, again?” she asked aloud, her curiosity evident as she glanced over her shoulder. “You seem like you really know your way around here—for farming, I mean. Would’ve been awesome if we were co-workers.” Her smile came easily, light and real, as she focused on herding the last of the wayward chickens—her sandy-colored sandals kicking up soft clouds of dirt as she worked.

Billie’s words slowly pulled her out of her thoughts and she marched forward first to deposit Roberta into the coop last, giving her a final stare to make sure the hen didn’t suddenly bolt out of the coop out of spite before exiting and closing the coop’s door again. She dusted off her hands and gave Billie the best approximation of her easygoing smile from earlier. “This won’t be the last time you’ll see me, don’t worry.” She reassured her with a wave of her hand. Though, she doubted she would be covering for farming as much but maybe it would be a good idea to be around. It was just Ramona and Lou after all, they wouldn’t mind. Probably.

“As for being a substitute… well, I’ve been in this camp since I could. Been a friend of the Evergreens for even longer. So, I figured it was time to take on the substitute mantle and help around a bit more.” A half-truth really. Being a substitute means being busy, being a substitute means being able to help, and Clarisse needed that distraction to function. Like a train whose breaks malfunctioned, Clarisse’s fonder memories of the sisters resurfaced and her mouth was moving faster than her thoughts. “I’ve already been doing it before because of Renee and Paige so why not get the pay raise with it?” Not that Clarisse was unwilling to do so, it was a fun time for her. Work and play was practically the same in her head.

"That's comforting to hear," Billie said, her usual grin softening into something more less intense. She wanted to show her sincerity, her generosity to Clarisse who was opening up. "Hope we can do this more often—I need that rematch. I mean it." She shot her a look that carried a I’m being serious, her gaze warm and reassuring at the same time. Billie leaned back against the coop’s shed, the faint sounds of clucking and squabbling drifting around them as she tuned into Clarisse's words.

The mention of the Evergreens, tied to memories of growing up and working closely with friends, piqued her interest. Her brows lifted slightly, showing her intrigue. "Dude, that must have been fun—working close, with friends and all." She shifted her weight casually, kicking one leg back to rest against the shed, her arms crossing in a relaxed, light-hearted stance.

The substitute nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets as she began to idly kick a rock around— a restless energy settling in her that kept her moving as opposed to her more relaxed companion. She wouldn’t deny that the experience was fun, always being around friends. Though, if only that was everything that had happened in camp, maybe the memories would be fonder. Maybe they would have remained without regret.

“Wish I knew them—the sisters, I mean.” Billie’s voice softened, a flicker of something wistful behind her words. “Not really from around here, but—” She trailed off, her gaze drifting across the farm, then further out to take in the expanse of the camp.

“Lived in Easthallow for about a year. I found their picture one day and started hearing all this talk about the Evergreens. Especially about why Mr. Evergreen was…opening back up so soon.” Her expression shifted, her teeth catching the inside of her cheek as her mouth twisted slightly to the side. The memory of that day, how sad Mr. Evergreen looked as he walked her down the trail. Wasn’t fair.

Clarisse paused in her movements, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. She hadn’t expected for someone new to the camp to be intimately aware of the rumors surrounding the sisters, the Evergreen family— Though she isn’t very new in Easthallow and small towns talk. She leveled her eyes with Billie, the familiar rush of protectiveness, of metaphorical hackles raised, overtaking her once again. “What do they say about him? The people of Easthallow?” She didn’t interact with the townsfolk very often, limiting it to whenever she needed to fetch something there. Information brokering was never her strong suit.

“Feels like some part of me would have loved to have met Paige. though.” Her voice dropped as she spoke the name, “the way people talked about her—a younger sibling, loyal to a fault—” Her voice faltered, and a grimace tugged at her features, the word she left unsaid echoing in her mind: a coward.

Billie’s fingers began tapping anxiously against the crook of her elbow, fighting back the urge to sigh out loud. “You believe in kindred spirits?” she asked suddenly, her eyes searching Clarisse’s face for an answer she wasn’t sure she could find on her own.

Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of Paige and the idea that Billie had created of her, almost echoing her thoughts of before, but it was not the entire picture. Who Paige was behind closed doors, what she felt underneath all of that, and the polaroid in her pocket was a stark reminder of all of it.

But she relented. “Like… two people who are similar to each other?” She asked first before returning her attention to the pebble she had been kicking around. She heaved a sigh and kicked it again, watching it fly to the fence and ricochet off the wood and land harmlessly near it. “I guess it wouldn’t be impossible. For it to be real, I mean. Why? Do you think you and Paige would be…?”

What do they say about him? Billie frowned, her arms loosened slightly, the defensive edge in her posture melting as she forced herself to meet Clarisse’s eyes. The guarded look staring back at her was hard to ignore, but she pressed on, uncertain of how much she could—or should—say.

“I mean, the usual—I think?” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “Wondering why he’d open up the camp so soon. That he…” she trailed off, feeling a knot tighten in her chest. “That he killed his kids.” She winced, having a hard time believing that rumor.

Billie shifted uneasily, “I had a couple of people try to talk me out of joining this gig too,” she added, her tone tinged with bitterness. “‘Ooo, you’ll be next,’ they’d say, like it was some kind of joke.”

She pushed herself off the shed with a small, frustrated huff, her leg dropping to the ground as she moved to stand a little closer to Clarisse. Her expression softened, regret creeping in as she glanced at her friend—can we be? “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood, by the way,” her voice was tinted with an apologetic tone, I’m so shitty for just dumping all of this randomly.

The need to come to an Evergreen’s defense came as naturally as breathing to Clarisse but the rumor was something she was intimately familiar with and one that filled her with so much rage and pity all at the same time. Billie clearly didn’t believe any of it, or Clarisse hoped she was reading her right. She was still here after all, accepted the job and everything.

She shook her head, digging her foot deeper into the ground with another kick. She couldn’t afford a rise in her voice, Billie didn’t deserve that. “S’alright. I asked.” She said instead. It wasn’t like she could change people’s perceptions. Rumors had a bad tendency to stick to someone no matter what they do, vile rumors standing on top of them all. She should know. Renee had been a master of them.

Listening in, she nodded slowly at Clarisse’s explanation of kindred spirits, her excitement bubbling over once she realized she understood. With a sharp whistle and a snap of her fingers, she exclaimed, “exactly! Two people who are similar to each other.”

She immediately bit her lip, stepping back to pace around the area now. The clucking of the chickens filled the silence, offering a soothing backdrop as Billie tried to gather her scattered thoughts. “It’s probably so fucked up to say, wishing I’d met them. I just can’t help but feel like we’d have a lot in common. But then…” She paused, her voice quieter, almost cautious. “I also know people can lie about themselves—or worse, build this ideal version of who they think someone should be.”

Did I want to know if she was closer with Renee or Paige? Would it even change anything? She stopped, glancing back at Clarisse with a look of uncertainty. “Were you…close with—”

Instead, the Newcomer batted the heavy question aside with a light laugh, brushing it off with a easy shrug. “Gah—forget it, this is just me being silly and spiritual, don’t mind me! Nothing but air up here.” She pointed at her head, shrugging her shoulders at the dig to herself. And it won’t be the last.

Without waiting for a reply, she started towards the gate, knowing the next activity would begin any minute most likely. “I’m not sure if you’re needed elsewhere, being a substitute and all, but—” she trailed off, drawing both arms behind her back. Her fingers fiddled with each other as she rocked slightly on her heels, hopefully we do this again.

“Hey, we should totally do this again,” Billie added, meeting Clarisse's gaze with a grin. “For a rematch.” Her expression softened, genuine appreciation shining through. “You’re also pretty fucking cool, Clarisse.”

This conversation was veering in a way that was unexpected, as if trying to build up to some momentous realization from Billie. But it was cut off right in the bud by the same person who started it and Clarisse let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The topic of the sisters was a sensitive one for anyone— mostly because their disappearance counted as one of the biggest mysteries of their lives. But Clarisse didn’t even know if she was ready to reopen the wounds of their departure; to be in the place they etched themselves in made her raw enough but speaking about them to a near stranger? To someone who had preconceptions?

She wasn’t sure if she could handle it.

Clarisse watched Billie carefully as she dropped the subject entirely and her words made Clarisse more aware of the time, of how the sun was high up in the sky and there was no doubt that it would be inching closer to her appointment with the sports counselors.

The sincerity of Billie’s tone caught her off-guard. Too used to honesty being an uncertain factor in anything, especially in regard to compliments and gratitude, Clarisse wanted to ruminate on it further. But Billie had been nothing but honest, right? So, Clarisse responded in kind— if anything, she wanted to hold it close and hope she didn’t disappoint in the future. “Yeah. And you’re cool too, Billie. Welcome to the camp.”

Before Billie could leave, Clarisse added. “And yeah. I was— am. And I think Paige would have liked you too.”

code by valen t.

 

[minajesty]

TURN UP THE HEAT

drama central

E

lodie. Harper filed the name in her memory for the next time she crossed paths with the girl who shuffled away with her tail tucked between her legs. It was an unusually pleasant sight to behold knowing that she was the cause of it―Cute name wasted on a pathetic girl―The Evergreen didn’t make a habit out of making enemies during first encounters, but she had started it first, unknowingly or not. No one would be exempt from a firm reminder of their place. Especially not you, Newbie.

Almost reveling in the sight of her handiwork, a genuine smile of amusement formed on Harper’s porcelain features before she turned back at the sound of Leon’s voice reminding her of her position. Lucky me, she parroted internally, rich in sarcasm. Least I won’t be working alone. “Juliette, huh? Is she any fun or should I expect that again?” Harper half-joked, though that didn’t knock her sudden curiosity of her fellow chef. Getting shoved into the kitchen all session long could almost deter her from returning to camp if she didn’t have an unshakeable motive for staying. The least her uncle could do was stick her beside someone amusing. Then again, that Elodie girl had already lowered her expectations. Anyone would do better than her.

Not before surrendering her luggage over to Leon with a vocalized and truehearted ‘Thanks’, Harper took one last glance of the Dining Hall, eyes landing on Elodie who appeared to be doing the same. Bye Elodie, she mouths to her with a tantalizingly slow wave of her hand before letting Macmillan lead her toward the kitchen entryway in a sashay.

“Yeah!” Leon responds, his enthusiasm stunted by the unease of having an Evergreen to answer to. He takes the handle of her suitcase and gives it a careful tug, wondering how foolish he truly is to think lugging Harper’s suitcase along could absolve him of guilt in her eyes. “Juliette’s pretty fun, definitely one of the most lively ones here.” His tone leans towards fondness, though the pit of unease in his stomach widens considerably. The last thing Juliette needed was another Evergreen in her life.

Ducking into the back kitchen, his head dips, sheepish and guilty for having left Shiloh alone. “Hey, man. Sorry ‘bout that.” He glances at Harper, stepping off to the side and giving her room for an entrance―to which he catches himself on, giving a slight shake of his head. She’s not Renee. No need for a spotlight. “This is… Harper Evergreen,” he releases the handle of her case, gesturing towards her with his palm facing upwards. “Harp, this is Shiloh Twine. Eva’s son. He’s finally returned to camp.”

Noticing Annalise, and more importantly the deliberate distance between her and Shiloh―he throws a questioning look at his oldest friend―and makes an awkward recovery, facing Harper head on as he addresses her. “Annie Cartwright.” He pauses, for once thinking through whether it was worth noting how close she’d been to Harper’s cousins, and decides better of it. She can do that if she wants to.

“Heh. How are these dishes coming along?”

Annie’s pale gaze, still boring into Shiloh despite their separation, flicked toward Leon at the sudden intrusion of his voice. “They’re not,” she answered. “Shiloh got distracted.” The blonde cast the man in question one parting pointed look before finally turning her attention to the young woman accompanying the Supervisor.

Harper’s silky hair was darker than Annalise had seen on any Evergreen she’d known, but she carried herself with the air of confidence so synonymous with that name—really, she needed no introduction. “Hi,” Annie greeted, smile returning in all its false glory. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard lots—all good things, of course.”

‘All good things’? Mirroring Annie’s pearly white and ingenious smile, Harper steps further inside the kitchen, leaving Leon a little ways behind to get a better view of the girl leaning against the kitchen’s countertop. “You know―if we’re going to be friends, you shouldn’t lie to me. Or you can at least get better at it,” never one to hold her quips back, she releases a lukewarm chuckle, throwing a glance over to an unusually quiet Shiloh. Wonder what his deal is, her eyes narrow some before returning to the blonde. “It’s nice to meet you too though, Annie. Shame you aren’t the mysterious ‘Juliette’ Leon was telling me about. I thought I would get to meet her. But I guess I’ll have to pull her weight on my first day.”

Leon’s mouth pulls to the side quizzically, finding himself shrink slightly by Harper’s naturally dominating presence and the ease in how she speaks down on others. Evergreens. “Juliette was swamped last night. Makes you guys even now.” An awkward chuckle accompanies the comment he says under his breath, far too intimidated to make himself heard.

Annalise tilted her head, biting down on the inside of her cheek. Harper was evidently just as abrasive as her cousins could be at times—worse, even. Fucking Evergreens. The blonde’s grin returned at last, eyes blinking innocuously. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Renee and Paige were always talking about how fun you are. Don’t tell me they were wrong…” Clearly.

Jaw ticking, Annie fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yorkie’s around here somewhere. I’m sure she’s excited to meet you, too.”

She’s missed having the warmth of an Evergreens’ ass to hide in.

Yorkie…? A small scoff escaped her lips at the humiliating nickname for her co-worker, but that’s all she would allow. Biting back the rest of her obviously entertained reaction, Harper nods slow and deliberate once her cousin’s names are mentioned, curiosity piqued as her head tilts slightly. What does she know about Renee and Paige? “I’ll let you and Yorkie figure that out…” she instead settles for.

As if on queue, Harper turns her attention on Shiloh who finally decides to break the ice and she settles for a smirk in response―one obviously more meaningful than the half-hearted grin she offered to Annie moments earlier.

Was his eye twitching? Shiloh felt his eye twitching. He wasn’t blind to any of the confused or pointed looks shot his way as two more entered the heated conversation, but Shiloh’s eyes never left Annie’s until she had completely turned to address the newcomers. His eyes followed her, as if on a lead of some kind, and he was met with Leon. “No worries,” Shiloh retorted before he rolled his eyes in response to Leon’s silent question, hoping he understood that he would explain later.

Leon meets Shiloh’s eyes, head bowed ever so slightly to appear as invisible during the exchange as possible—mentions of Yorkie and tense back and forth between Harper and Annie left him with the impression of watching a boiling pot. Look away for a moment and it’ll overflow into something unmanageable. A mess he wouldn’t know where to start with cleaning up.

What slightly tore Shiloh from his bad mood was yet another familiar face, Harper Evergreen. One corner of his mouth ticked up in a smirk as he gave her a once over, “Well I should’ve known you would show up this year too,” there was a lighthearted emphasis in his words as his body turned away from Annie towards Harper.

“Duh. Like I’d let you have all the fun in the spotlight,” she offers, smile still clinging to her face as she begins a leisurely stride toward her childhood friend. Looping her arms around his neck for a quick hug, the gesture was short-lived before she opts to give him an appreciative once-over look herself. “What the hell did they feed out there, Shi?” Who knew muscles looked better on you than those lanky arms you used to have? Harper steps back into a more comfortable space between them while crossing her arms over her chest.

“You still planning on helping me out in here or did you just come to tie up loose ends?” unhesistantly, the Evergreen casts a suspicious glance toward Annie, intentional and deliberate, before slowly turning her gaze back to Eva’s son.

A natural and friendly smile crept on his face as he hugged Harper back, “Ha ha, yes I’ve put on some muscle since I was seventeen, what a shocker,” He released the hug and felt a small twinge in his eyebrows at her ending comment. Loose ends? What’s that supposed to mean? Shiloh elected to glide over the comment altogether, ignoring Harper’s pointed glance towards Annie. Hell if I’m getting in the middle of that. “Technically I’m out here to help Officer Jones, as we’re both technically the only ones legally licensed and trained for this kind of thing?” His tone remained ignorant and playful towards Harper.

Helping…? Knocking an Evergreen’s steely resolve out of place was blatantly difficult but not impossible, evident in the way her wit dissolved and her smile fell slightly. Finally…they’re gonna come home. His news wouldn’t change her plans to participate—Easthallow had a year to make some progress in their case and failed miserably. The last thing she’d ever think to do was trust someone with her cousin’s lives again, but Shiloh jumping on board changed things. He was a fresh pair of eyes and practically family. If anyone could bring some type of justice alongside her, he would. And you’re gonna help me.

As simply as breathing, Annalise slipped into her rightful place—hidden in the shadow of an Evergreen girl. No matter who it was, she always seemed to pale in comparison. At least Renee and Paige had been her friends. Harper… Annie should’ve known better than to think that this summer would be any improvement from the ones spent at the camp prior.

The blonde bit her tongue but not hard enough.

“I don’t know… I think Shi has other places to be.” Then, turning toward Leon, Annalise changed the subject altogether, “Could you bring me that stack of plates? Shiloh’s distracted again.”

Thrown a lifeline, Leon breathes with widened eyes, “yeah, sure thing!” He tucks Harper’s suitcase to the side and seizes the stack of plates from the cart Annie had pointed to, hurrying over to where she stood and loading them into the trough sink. “I’ll help.” He mumbles at her side, flipping the faucet on.

Annie’s sudden shuffling toward Leon elicited instant recovery, reminding Harper that they weren’t the only ones in the room. A quiet exhale through her nose escaped her, acting as a reset to her attention, before the same facade fell back into place. “Yeah? Well let’s see if all that training will help you wash these dishes with us then, Officer.” with the sarcastic veneer firmly back again, she turns her attention back on Annie, Leon, and the stacks of plates growing stickier by the minute. Disgust evident, she rolls her eyes. Thank God I don’t have sleeves.

It took everything in Shiloh’s will to not physically roll his eyes and bite back at Annie’s passive aggressive remarks. What the hell is her problem? First she tries to send me to my mother’s office as if I’m due to be grounded or some shit? Then she has a problem with me talking to an old friend? The best he could do was silently shake his head at her comment, physically bite his tongue and look up at the ceiling in disbelief. Is this all because I couldn’t recognize her right off the bat? It’s not my fault she matured and grew up.

Once more, Harper’s teasing words seemed to lessen his pre-existing bad mood. Shiloh gave a small smirk as he finally turned to help with the dishes, following Leon’s lead to grab stacks of plates and set them in the sink. “Technically it’s Agent, but Officer doesn’t sound half bad coming from you so I guess I’ll let it slide.”

Are they flirting? Peeking over his shoulder, his attention is drawn to Shiloh with the look sliding back into place, a million questions in his eyes. He felt very much the intruder in a conversation he had no part in being involved in and can’t help but ask one of his burning questions, “didn’t know you knew the two of them, Shi.” His lips quirk up at the nickname, amused that there was one thing they had in common—they were always involved with a girl.

Annalise couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of rolling her eyes any longer—she could only count herself lucky that her back was to the offending parties and that her face was angled down toward the basin of warm water, blonde hair falling to obscure Leon’s view.

A rare feeling of simple annoyance towards Leon filled Shiloh’s chest. He shot his best friend a half-lidded death glare, whether he was looking or not. “Two of them? You mean two of my friends who have been a part of this camp since I was a kid here? I didn’t know that was such a shocker, MacMillan,” His tone had a bit of a sarcastic edge to it, one that Shiloh could never have been more than playfully bothered towards Leon. Sure, Leon may have been poking the bear that Shiloh was desperately trying to leave un-poked, but Shiloh also knew that he would look back on the situation with Leon and share a laugh and hopefully many drinks about the situation.

However, they were still very much in the middle of the situation, and Shiloh felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Dumbfounded, Leon blinks at Shiloh’s harsh response—too much had happened in the time between being campers and counsellors, was he supposed to remember every person Shiloh had interacted with? Forcing a tight-lipped and insincere smile, Leon dutifully rolls the sleeves of his plaid shirt up to his elbows and runs the ceramic plates beneath the flowing water.

“My brain has a bit of trouble compartmentalising stuff,” he explains with an awkward laugh, not feeling now was the proper time or place to explain ADHD and all of its intricacies. The first time the disorder had even been uttered within the same breath of his name, Leon had ended up at the camp for ‘troubled children’, and he was reluctant to release that information to anyone, even Shiloh. “At least that saves me from further introductions, huh?”

Clearing his throat, he points at the dish soap closest to Annie, “mind passing that over?” Then turns around to address Harper as he waits for Annie to fetch the bottle. “Dinner is served at 6:00PM, getting started around 5:00PM is usually the best bet around here. Not sure if Paige ever complained about the schedule before,” he swallows hard at the mention of the missing Evergreen, only slightly at ease after Annie had effectively tested the water for him by speaking their names aloud.

“Meals will be decided by you and Juliette based on what we have stocked in the pantry. Plenty of long shelf life options here. Allergy list is on the board right behind you… should sum it all up.” Leon finishes with a satisfied shake of his head.

For the first time since Harper stepped into the kitchen, she was quieted by Leon’s attention to detail in his lecture about what she was expected to do in the kitchen. It bored her—that much was evident in her disinterested expression—but nothing went one ear and out the other as her head slowly turned to look at the list of allergies tacked to the board on the wall behind her. Can’t actual chefs do this…? I’m gonna chip a fucking nail, she sighs to herself, reluctantly following their lead in heading to the cart to grab a stack of dirty ceramics before another view occupies the doorway.

Lifting her gaze up to meet the familiar girl, the same amused smirk returned and her tightly-knitted eyebrows softened. Saved by the sister.

Annalise angled away from Leon, arm stretching out to retrieve the dish soap. His words beyond that went in one ear and out the other—she had no need nor desire to retain how the kitchen operated; she’d been at the camp long enough now that if she couldn’t catch on to the way things ran, there was no hope for her.

As Leon pointed out a few things around the kitchen, Liv made her way into the room, coming to a stop in the doorway. She studied the scene in front of her for a second before pulling a smile. “Looks like Shiloh found you before I could, Leon,” she said, announcing her arrival. “Should’ve known you’d come right here after breakfast; take a break from working for a second, would you?”

Leon’s smile slips into an authentic genuineness as Olivia’s entrance, her stance eerily similar to Eva’s—an effortless demand for attention as she surveyed the scene before her. Looking for something to criticise, no doubt. He pulls slightly from the sink, his arms soaked in water and suds, “I would give you a hug, but—” he shrugs helplessly, his expression sheepish as he glances down at his preoccupied hands.

“Stealing him away so soon, Olivia?” a faux pout decorates her face as she throws a look back over to Shiloh, then turns back to Liv. “He’s kinda busy helping me out in here—” Well us. “But I’d take his place if I wasn’t needed,” Harper states while finally loading some plates in her hands to take. While waiting for Liv’s to respond, she turns from the cart, intending to pivot towards the sink until Annie suddenly backs away from it.

As Annalise dropped plate after plate into the sink, moving robotically, as if on autopilot, her eyes remained glued to the tree line outside. At the head of the trail leading into Easthallow, a small group of counselors had gathered. She needed to go to town, too—for someone so eager to attend a night of Truth or Dare at the Sunspot, bringing a costume had completely slipped her mind, and the blonde doubted that her aid was needed in the kitchen, not with how many others were crowded around the water basin along with her.

Looking over his shoulder to greet his sister with a warm smile, Shiloh caught a quick glance of Annie, almost in a trace as her stare was locked on the window in front of her and her arms seemed to move through the motions of washing dishes. His eyebrows furrowed in worry, did she and Harper not get along? Was this still the wreckage left from his remark about Eva?

Even Harper’s words to him and Liv were barely enough to pull his eyes away from Annie; just a quick moment to acknowledge that he heard Harper. It was nothing more than a small nod of his head before the clattering of silverware drew his eyes back to Annie.

At the addition of a new voice, one Annie knew well, the cluster of silverware in her grip clattered to the metal bottom of the sink, hands raising from the soapy water sloshing inside and flicking her fingers free of the liquid, and then, she backed away. “There’s too many cooks in this kitchen, so I’m gonna go. Have fun.” Yet, her tone implied she hoped the opposite.

Before anyone could argue, Annalise rushed out of the cramped room, wordlessly passing Olivia on her way.

Leon quickly dipped at the knees, his hands clamouring to catch the silverware before they connected with the ceramic plates and left scratches—to no avail—and winces at the obnoxious sound, his gaze flitting between a grimace and worry. He looks over his shoulder in time to see Annie’s honey hued hair disappearing from sight.

“Clumsy much…” she whispers faintly, watching the blonde’s departing figure breeze past Liv, but no less satisfied at the irritated undertone her voice took on in her exit. See ya, Harper thinks to herself, smiling behind her veil of black hair as she moves to take Annie’s place.

As Annie fled what felt like the scene of a crime, Shiloh’s eyes followed her every move. Even beginning to step in her direction. He mumbled something along the lines of “I’ll be right back,” to Leon before fully following Annie out the door. Shiloh’s hand found his sister’s shoulder as he walked past her, but his eyes stayed glued ahead.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice tried to bridge the gap that she had gained, moving much faster once out the door than Shiloh had realized.

Annalise’s hastened footsteps came to an abrupt halt when she realized she wasn’t alone in her exit. “Yeah,” she answered, shrugging Shiloh’s concern off like rain ricocheting off the nylon of an umbrella. “Why wouldn’t I be? I just have better ways to spend my time than scrubbing dishes.” Unlike some people. “Go back and help Harper if you want. She seems awfully desperate.” She spun on her heel again, as if to continue her journey—deep down, she hoped she wouldn’t hear the sound of Shiloh’s footsteps receding back inside, though she didn’t want to be around to see the outcome regardless.

The scowl on his face deepened as she quickly turned around and called out to him over her shoulder. Any other day, any other person that decided to walk away when he wanted to check on them? He would’ve walked away. Secretly flipped them off for turning down his rare instance of vulnerability.

But yet Shiloh felt his shoes thumping into the ground beneath him as he tried to catch up to her. Because this wasn’t any other day, and this wasn’t any other person.

“Annalise,” Shiloh caught up right behind her. His hand involuntarily reached to grab her arm as if being pulled by a string, but he quickly stopped himself and let his hand fall back to his side. Instead, he took a few extra paces to stand in front of Annie, attempting to stop her in her tracks. “I’m trying to care about you over here,” He half joked (maybe even quarter-joked), his eyes having melted from their stern scowl into something softer, more concern instead of hurt.

The blonde stopped in her tracks, held in place by the sudden use of her full name. Annalise could’ve easily ignored it, but something about the serious tone it invoked rooted her to the spot, inclining her to listen. Her blue eyes fluttered shut, brow furrowing. What am I doing? And when her eyelids drew back again, the man was standing before her, effectively blocking her previous path, yet his gentle expression confirmed that there was no antagonism in his actions.

Annie sighed. If Shiloh was anyone else, she would’ve maintained her bitterness, but she couldn’t bring herself to berate him further, not with Harper and Juliette gone. They were the main sources of her frustration—it did no one any good for Annalise to take it out on Shiloh instead, despite her tendency to draw those around her into her destructive spirals regardless of her relation to them or their level of innocence in the situation.

“I know,” the blonde relented, shoulders sagging. She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s a lot going on, and none of them,” Annie motioned back toward the Dining Hall, “are helping.” She scoffed for emphasis. “It’s like—” Annalise stopped just short of admitting her distaste of Harper’s attitude—fresh as their acquaintanceship was—when she recalled Shiloh’s reaction to having seen the Evergreen. He likes her. “Whatever. I’m going to Easthallow—I have something I need to pick up, but I’ll be back soon, ‘kay? I’ll see you later.”

Deep brown eyes were trained on every motion of Annie’s, Shiloh’s eyes were still filled with concern. There was so much he wanted to say; to comfort her, to remind her why he was at camp, to reassure her that he was going to do everything he could to protect his friends. But, as per usual with Shiloh, he said none of that. A mismatched yet sad smile accompanied his somewhat “puppy eyes” as Shiloh nodded at Annie’s words. For just a moment, his eyes flicked down to the ground, “Yeah, of course. I guess I’ll see you at the sunspot? Wonder if Leon will let me without a costume,” a small chuckle resonated from his throat, as he instinctively ran his fingers through his hair to push a few strands out of his eyes before they met Annie’s again. “Just,” A large breath went into his lungs before slowly releasing as he awkwardly yet half-expectedly held his arms out for a hug, “Be careful?”

“I can pick one up for you, if you’d like,” Annalise offered, her tone lightening ever so slightly, tension easing in her features. “That’s where I’m headed, anyway. It’ll be no problem.”

The blonde hesitated, gaze dropping from Shiloh’s face to where his arms had lifted invitingly. Generally-speaking, genuine affection was relatively uncharted territory—her family was strictly business, even with their loved ones, and Renee and Paige had always shown their appreciation for her friendship in other ways. Outside of them, Annie didn’t believe herself to have been close enough with anyone to warrant such a thing, especially not without it being prompted by herself, but once her initial surprise had subsided, she shuffled forward into Shiloh’s grasp, her smile hidden in the fabric of his shirt. “Of course,” she promised. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

As his arms wrapped around Annie, Shiloh was finally able to put words to the feelings that had been stirring in him for the past several minutes. It was something along the lines of protection. Shiloh remembered when Annie first joined camp when he was twelve years old. The two were fast friends, of course it was easy to make such fast friends at those young ages. As they both grew up at Camp Evergreen, Shiloh adopted a sense of protection towards Annie, as he very easily did for many people at camp when he was younger.

Sure, Shiloh and Annie were never best friends growing up, but Shiloh had at least considered them to be close once upon a time. Of course he cared about her, he spent so many years believing he had to protect her, keep a close eye on her, thanks to some cryptic conversations with his mother who had taken Annie under her wing. But now, with Shiloh’s return to camp, he was witnessing just how grown up Annalise Cartwright had become in the past nine years. And to be completely blunt, she seemed to have grown into a much better person than Shiloh had in his time away.

Shiloh took a deep breath as his arms were still wrapped around Annie. There was a part of him that was realizing that everyone he knew nine years ago had more than likely completely changed. Hell, he had completely changed. There were days where he looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize who he had become. His move to New York and the reasons behind it had hardened him, made him distant from true vulnerability. Something deep inside him told him he was better to not be vulnerable, and he hadn’t been for years on end. God bless his sister, Liv; with her visits to him up in college, Shiloh was convinced he would’ve completely lost himself and become a cold and heartless monster. But to be perfectly blunt once more, most days Shiloh saw himself as that anyway.

His thoughts caused a pang in his heart. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back to camp. I should’ve stayed in Easthallow to work with Officer Jones. I shouldn’t have brought myself back to these people. To this place. With how much he had changed, he knew that meant his friends from nine years ago had also changed. With a now tightening feeling in his chest as his chin resting atop Annie’s head, he wondered if he would truly be able to pick up where he left off with anyone. No matter how much he tried to do so with Annie, there was already so much that had changed between them; from the tensions about Eva Twine to the way his eyes looked at her.

Annalise pulled away, offering Shiloh a parting wave as she brushed past him. “Don’t get into too much trouble without me!” she called over her shoulder, winking, then turned forward, quickening her pace lest she be left behind by those already lingering by the trail.

The man couldn’t help but be stuck in place for a few moments as the woman walked away from where he stood. He couldn’t even muster up any words or any kind of quip in response to her. There were too many thoughts swirling around in his head and his chest. As he stood on the trail, just a few feet away from the dining hall in the shining sun of the early afternoon, Shiloh wrestled with his emotions and instincts. In New York, they were in agreement; protect himself, don’t let anyone get too close, act on self preservation and don’t put yourself on the line for anyone’s sake. This agreement had turned him into a selfish, thoughtless person, only using people for his own gain. But there was something about Camp Evergreen, where his child-self seemed to reside, that caused discord between his emotions and his instincts. He wondered if it would be better to fight the wants and ways of his past self, and give everyone the stiff arm to distance him from everyone? Or to give in and fall into step of who he used to be?

Is it this place? Or is it the people?

---

Back in the kitchen, Liv watched her brother follow—was that Annie Cartwright?— out of the room. There was a strange tension that followed the two of them, but she could always dig into that with him later. Instead, she turned her attention back to Leon and Harper.

“Don’t worry, I won’t need to steal anyone from your dishwashing operation here, or his wet hands,” she replied, lips twisting into a smile. “Just figured that since Leon’s become the top dog around here, he could tell me which cabin I’m supposed to be staying in. And what the hell I’m supposed to be doing today, really, since I got here right at the end of breakfast and I have no clue what’s on the table for me today.”

This was one of those moments Leon felt out of his depth as a Supervisor—glossing over tense moments, pretending it wasn’t anything at all effectively combatted his thoughtful nature. Keeping peace was harder than it seemed.

Grateful for the change of subject from Olivia, he stacks the rinsed silverware beside the trough, nodding at the washed pile. “Liv, you mind drying? The placements are in my pocket, but I’m sure you are in the Chinook Cabin—with Annie, she just left—and uh, since having a resident therapist is kind of new here…” he trails off, another awkward laugh to add to the tally. Finding ways to dance around the reasons why so much had changed without outwardly mentioning the sisters was a challenge in and of itself. “You should be operating out of Med-Bay. Maybe check in with the group there and familiarise yourself with Liberty, Marquis and Alton.”

A flicker of annoyance sparked in Harper’s chest at the undeserved praise toward Leon—immediately forced to swallow her scoff in favor of using her energy to match his pace with washing off dirty plates and piling them in the designated area. Top dog? My ass. She finds herself admitting in spite of the respect she still had for him. Leon Macmillan was a friendly face and a perfect candidate for a long-term counselor, but there would never be an individual more suited to be called ‘Supervisor’ than Renee Evergreen. You’re just keeping her seat warm.

Schooling her expression into something neutral, Harper’s attentiveness to the tedious task grows consistent as she keeps an ear out for their conversation, feeling herself growing slightly more appreciative once Liv joins in to pick up what Shiloh abandoned.

“So, uh—” Leon clears his throat, pressing his thumb into the divot of a spoon with the dish soap. “In case you missed it, Harper, Liv… we have Truth or Dare tonight, not sure if you remember that little tradition,” a wince accompanies his laugh, recalling Juliette’s words about handling it differently.

“It’s a costume party. Think of it as our version of Halloween in the summer. So, a number of counsellor’s are likely heading into town for last minute shopping if either of you want to check in and make a request.”

At the mention of the classic camp tradition, Harper is pulled out of her thoughts and flicks a gaze over toward Leon. We still do those? “Ugh, I missed those parties at the Sunspot. I think I need a beer or two if tomorrow’s anything like today’s going.” A clueless newbie and a feisty polly-pocket? I need a pick-me-up before they make me regret coming here. “I wonder what I should wear though. Red devil, maybe?” Who was even left to ask?

Liv crossed the room as he spoke, grabbing a rag and starting to work on wiping the already-washed dishes dry. “I’m good on a costume, I think,” she replied. “There’s at least four storage boxes of stuff in my car still, I’ve gotta have something in there.”

“But the Med-Bay sounds great, I can head over there after we’re finished here,” she added. “Considering it seems like your four-man operation has dropped to two, it’s my civic duty to help you get through this pile.”

In response to Liv: “Don’t tell Shiloh, but you’re officially my favorite,” Harper openly admits, suddenly noticing their clean pile of dishes growing larger than the dirty ones. “Actually, you can tell him if you want to. He doesn't deserve your credit.” Especially not after running after whatever her name was. This isn’t a damn Lifetime movie.

Liv laughed. “Glad to take the title.”

As if on cue, Shiloh re-entered the kitchen to see his sister helping the duo wash and dry dishes. “Aren’t I the best brother ever?” He joked toward Liv as he re-joined the dishes effort, “Making you do dish duty on your first day back,” The lighthearted tone of his voice was nothing short of a surprise to himself, still trying to battle the strange feelings of his previous conversation. Shiloh stood next to his sister, helping dry dishes and stacking clean and dry dishes out of their way.

Leon scrubs at the plates one by one, intent on removing the syrups and cream stubbornly holding on. In between each plunge of the dish under running water, he thinks back on the last time he’d seen each person in this room—feeling like an utter jackass when no memory comes to mind, each one scattered amongst the pile of teenage angst, romantic flings, roommate shenanigans and last summer; frustration blossoms at how much of his mind dedicated itself to the last fucking summer.

Finishing up the last of the plates, he stacks them for Liv and rinses his arms beneath the stream, flicking impatiently at the suds. He glances towards Harper, fighting the urge to shrink and instead calls back to her earlier comment about the Sunspot, “I promise plenty of beer and plenty of good spirits.” A promising smile flashes, the double-meaning of good spirits intended—both physically and spiritually.

“I wager your return will be a surprise to many—all of you, in fact.” He cuts a look at both Shiloh and Liv next, stepping away from the sink to fetch a discarded and hopefully clean rag from the countertop, wiping at the liquid clinging to his arms. “Speaking of…” he leans the small of his back into the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Why have all of you decided to return?”

Shiloh’s eyes went wide for just a few moments as he continued helping his sister dry the last of the dishes. Did no one tell him why I’m here? I thought it was Officer Jones’ who reached out to me? Did nobody else know? He finished setting a tried plate off to the side before nudging his sister, “Ladies first,”

Liv throws him an unimpressed look for half a second, caught between amused and disgruntled at his attempt to shift the question to her. “His gentlemanly tendencies are undercut by the fact that I mostly came back because he was,” she said, tucking a clean plate on the top of their stack. “Plus, with everything that happened…”

Never one for beating around the bush, she took a deep breath before throwing them all into the deep end. “With Renee and Paige gone, it just felt like it was time, you know? We might not have been on the best terms anymore, but they had been family at one point. I grew up here.”

We ARE family…, Harper corrects Liv inwardly, grateful for the depth of water in the sink concealing a white-knuckled fist constricted around a lingering fork, practically suffocating the utensil in her hand hard enough to bend it backward had she had the strength to do so with ease. Hardly, she could almost hear Renee’s welcomed voice at the forefront of the war in her mind—confident, strong, and right as usual. Especially, with all of their mourning attitudes.

“I knew if there was any time that Evergreen would need me, it was now,” she concluded with a shrug, then added: “Time to go home, I guess?”

We don’t need you. We don’t need anybody. You need us.

Shiloh could only help but nod as his sister spoke. It was true, everything that had happened from the previous session sounded like Evergreen Camp needed a homecoming of sorts.

“Officer Jones recruited me to help find Renee and Paige. Since I have a more specialized field of crime scene investigation instead of general law enforcement, he figured I could be helpful,” Shiloh was never one to brag, he didn’t like talking himself up in any form or fashion. His arms crossed across his chest as a small way to “hide” himself as he spoke on his qualifications. “Plus with so much chaos and uncertainty, I wanted to come check in on everyone. Like Liv said, the Evergreens have been family, even if we’ve all butted heads from time to time,” he raised his eyebrows towards Harper with a knowing connotation “But I also wanted to check on you and Levi and Annie and anyone else who was still here. Even if I don’t really have that right anymore…” His voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, his feet taking a half step back to lean against the nearby counter.

He’s a big shot now. Leon thinks, somewhat fondly, fiddling with the rag in his hands. It was alarming how much time had passed—nine years—would he have made something else of himself if he’d been able to cut the umbilical cord and separate himself from Camp Evergreen? A voice that sounds suspiciously like that of his mother drifts to mind and he decides, somewhat dejectedly, no, I would be nothing at all.

Making sure to relax her grasp on the fork before pulling it out of the water—and using her last free hand to pull the stopper from the drain with a pop—, Harper schools her face into a faux warmth toward Liv, passing her the cherry on top of the massive crapload they had successfully tackled. “You guys said it best—” that much had been true. The Evergreen would never make the same mistake again by allowing too much emotional vulnerability. At least the trash took itself out. But I’m not testing my luck so soon.

Flicking the faucet off and following Leon’s lead to grab a clean towel for her hands, she continues. “—I wanted to come home and see my friends. Have a beer, if I’m lucky?” silently praising her timing with the return, another smile falls on her face—a possibly unsettling one if they decided to become analytical. Her natural wit would save her though as she glances from Leon, to Liv, and the finally, to Shiloh with a glint of mischief in her eye. “And like I said… I’m not letting you have all the fun.”

“Trust me, you can take as much of the spotlight as you want,” Liv said, placing the last plate to be dried at the top of a stack before turning to face the others in full. “I’m gonna have my hands full as it is, I don’t need any more attention than I’m already bound to get for appearing out of the blue. I just want to work and help out and catch up with old friends.”

When her eyes land on Harper, the light smile on her face turns bittersweet. Not gloomy, but a bit more serious. “I’ve missed you,” she added. “Even if I’m the one who decided to drop off the face of the planet—which I am sorry for, by the way.”

An expression hinting at subtle confusion causes Harper’s eyes to narrow at Liv’s more serious tone and demeanor, evident that she wasn’t expecting that sort of confession in the slightest. In her natural fashion, part of the Evergreen wants to chalk up the feeling as an exaggeration—maybe even sarcasm—but growing up with the girl never gave her a reason to question her now. Olivia Twine was nothing if not genuine, so much so that Harper couldn’t deny it even if she tried.

You’re sorry…? “Prove it…” she dares in a playful tone, abandoning her towel on the counter and pushing herself from her leisurely position against its edge to stand straighter. Taking a half, yet confident, step forward, Harper extends her arms out to Liv, hinting at an invitation for a hug with the same light smile Twine had offered her.

Leon’s eyes widened a fraction, his nervous system triggered by the dare Harper threw Liv’s way. There were too many instances where he’d seen this exact scene play out; Renee, propositioning another to take advantage of her offered ‘supposed’ vulnerability, only to rip their heads off as they nibbled on the bait. It’s only the second day, Leon straightens his posture, subtly readying himself to slip into Paige’s role.

“Gladly,” Liv replied, stepping into Harper’s waiting embrace. She tried not to be emotional as she did it, as if this wasn’t the first time she’d hugged an Evergreen in three years. Her brain wasn’t helpful, however; it was hard to forget that the last had been with Paige back in 1998, at the end of a Thanksgiving-centered visit. A bit awkward considering the tension of Renee between them, but genuine nonetheless.

There was no way to know it would’ve been the last time they saw each other. She would’ve held on longer if she had.

She swallowed, resting her chin on Harper’s collarbone. “I really am sorry,” she said.

Oh—. The wit had been forced out of her the moment she felt the overwhelming sincerity of the hug and heard the raw emotion in Liv’s voice. Olivia hadn’t said much but the embrace said everything, leaving Harper successfully stunned in place with a frown threatening to decorate her features. I can’t deal with this right now, Harper pleads to Liv internally, feeling every bit more vulnerable the more time she spent with her arms wrapped around the other in a reciprocated fashion.

“Yeah well—” it takes the Evergreen breaking the hug to finally recover in a way that wasn’t too obvious, instead opting for a gentle hold on both of Liv’s shoulders. “Don’t get soft on me now, Livvy,” Harper scoffs sarcastically, forcing a smile to her return again in spite of getting thrown in the deep end of an emotional pool. “Make it up to me tonight and don’t leave me hanging. You have to drink one with me too or else your apology doesn’t count.”

Visibly relaxing, Leon slowly exhales the pent up air he’d been holding onto in anticipation of a scene befitting that of Renee. He briefly recalls when he’d hugged Renee as a camper upon returning for his third year in a row, remembering the girl who hadn’t let power consume her so thoroughly—and the grimace she’d had as he pulled away, his hands braced on her shoulders. Her lips formed into a bitter laugh as she snapped, don’t do that again, MacMillan. I am here for my father’s sake, you’re here because you’re unwanted. We aren’t the same.

“Drinks, I can promise.” He breaks the tension he’d built up in his head, stepping away from the countertop and chucking the rag in the hamper near the exit. “For what it’s worth—I sure am relieved you’re all back here. Jonathan needs his family now more than ever.”

As Liv turned out of Harper’s grip to face Leon, she reached up to cover one of the other girl’s hands with her own, locking it in place. “Considering everything, I’m more relieved to be back than I thought I would be, too. And relieved that you’re all here; honestly, I think I’m happier to be in this room with the three of you than I’ll be to see anyone else.”

“Listen, if the Sunspot is about to become softie row then count me out,” Shiloh spoke out from his place outside of the group. Everyone’s vulnerability was sickeningly sweet, and he had met his quota on being vulnerable for the week with the stunt he had pulled with Annie. “I don’t even know if the drinks would be worth it,” He did his best to make his voice convey a sense of joking, seeing how most of his words and actions came across as intimidating and cold.

An unwelcomed jolt at Liv’s touch against her skin causes Harper to pull her hands away from the girl’s shoulders, letting one arm dangle at her side and setting the other onto a hip slightly jutted out. Hugging them earlier had been as far as she was willing to allow—even that was wading through territories she didn’t want to get stuck in—but the heart-to-heart happening in the kitchen was getting to be too much.

Where’s my bell when I need one? Before the mild annoyance building in her could stew further, Harper relieves herself of the floodgates threatening to spew from her company with a roll of her eyes toward the kitchen ceiling. “I hope those drinks are stiff, Macmillan, cause I’m gonna need one if we’re gonna start holding hands this so—” the walls of the dining hall had quieted her mid-sentence as they carried loud and discordant voices, the scraping of metal against flooring following soon after. What the hell is going on?

Taking the opportunity as her last chance exit, Harper abandons her post against the counter and saunters outside of the kitchen, retracing her steps that Leon had guided her through earlier, before finding herself in the dining hall again. The origin of rowdy kids wasn’t hard to pinpoint as her eyes landed on a bunch sitting haphazardly atop of the tables wherever space was unoccupied for them. They can’t park their asses on chairs? Kids…

“Hey,” Harper interrupts as she makes her way closer, doing her best to amplify her voice over their chorus of chaos without chastising their excitement. “Did you guys forget that we eat on these? At least sit where you’re supposed to.” a slight, and surprisingly genuine, chuckle escapes from her while she offers an arm for a camper or two to get down safely.

“Sorry. I was just telling Anthony that there’s no way the Blue team’s gonna win Color War—”

“Yes they are, Dipshit. Rowan is a pro!” a scrawny kid chimes in, face contorted with impatience that hinted at how long their argument might’ve been going on. I should’ve stayed in the kitch—.

“Wanna bet? Ten bucks says Ricky Sanford is gonna have him on his a—”

“Oookay, this sounds like a conversation that can happen outside. Get ready for your next activities, I have more prepping to do,” without giving them a chance to stall any longer, Harper ushers the reluctant group of friends toward the exit, their grumblings of disapproval growing silent as the double-doors shut behind them.

Once she pivots in the direction of the disorganized chairs, Harper heaves a disgruntled sigh—chest rising and falling harshly—as she intends to push them back in until her attention flickers down to something laying against the floor. Almost easy to miss if it wasn’t for the slight bend allowing it to protrude from the shadows, the Evergreen walks over, eyes narrowed in faint curiosity before she bends down to snatch it with her pointer and middle finger.

No! Slipping from between her loose pinch, Harper hastily attempts to squat down and grab it, feeling irritation burrow in her gut once she realizes it’s escaped between a hollow crack in the floorboard. “Piece...of...shit…,” she mumbles through gritted teeth, rising to her feet and swiping the dust off her pants. “Leon!”

Going through the inventory of drinks in his mind, slightly concerned of what this will personally cost him to supply strong enough liquor for Harper’s tastes—Leon almost startles at the sound of his name ringing out from the Dining Hall, her voice carrying upstairs with ease.

With a parting and resigned look to Liv and Shiloh, he jogs out of the back kitchen and down the steps, peering into the Dining Hall to find Harper, disgruntled and unamused.

Half a second later, Liv followed after him at a walk.

“What’s up?” He takes the steps slowly, his attention sweeping over the room to pinpoint where her annoyance stemmed from.

“Something slipped in there—” Harper begins to explain in a neutral tone, throwing a glance downward at the narrow slit in the floor before looking up in time to see Liv gaining on Leon. “I tried grabbing it after kicking some kids back outside, but I couldn’t get it. You can, right?” Or maybe you? Shiloh? Whoever was elected for the tedious task didn’t matter; it was clear in the Evergreen’s expression that she hadn’t been asking.

Her gaze flickers towards Liv again, who now stood as representation for both—her brother nowhere in sight—before she finds herself thinking, it won’t be me.

Oh. Leon dashes down the last of the steps, gradually joining Harper by the table. He carefully drops to his knees, a slight wince when the wood connects harder than normal, and peers through slits in the floorboards for the object of Harper’s desire. Glimpsing a sliver of white, his face contorts into a confuddled squint, unable to place what it could be.

“Sure, I can—nope, nevermind.” His fingers halt their efforts of prying at the wood, a splinter wedging itself into the pad of his thumb. “Might be a job for Hugo. I can go get him—” he breaks off with a sigh, he’d done his damnedest to avoid him so far.

Pushing back to his feet, Leon brushes his hands off on the denim of his thighs. “Sit tight. I’m sure he isn’t too busy.” Please don’t be busy. With a parting and semi-awkward wave, Leon breezes out of the Dining Hall in search of Hugo.

Liv made her way down to Harper’s side as Leon made his exit, glancing down at the crack in the floor between them. Hugo’s name had thrown her off for a second—she’d never had anything against him, and he’d always been kind to her, but thinking of Hugo always meant thinking of Nic.

“Is he asking Hugo to crawl under the floorboards?” She asked, pushing aside the thoughts of her ex to glance at her brother. “Or pull them up? There’s no way he has a tool to pull a piece of paper through a crack, right?”

Harper lifted her shoulder up and down in an unenthused shrug, decidedly staying quiet and turning toward the dining hall’s entryway for any signs of Hugo. There wasn’t much of the groundskeeper that she remembered fondly—there was nothing about the help worth remembering, she recalls Renee explaining—but if there was anything that stood out:

Maybe he can grease it out with all that shit in his hair.

Shiloh was close behind his sister, sharing a confused look with her as they realized Harper’s situation and request. “Are we seriously about to pull up these planks for some piece of paper? It’s probably something dumb those kids drew.” Although he acted like the paper wasn’t worth the trouble, he still closed one eye and squinted through the slats, attempting to catch a glance of what Harper was talking about.

Glancing over at the sound of Shiloh’s appearance, Harper pivots her body to face the siblings. “Sure looks like you’re curious about that ‘dumb drawing’ though, Shi,” I know I am. Following his line of sight back to the crack in the floorboard, she lets out a quiet huff.

Tool Box in hand, Hugo stomps across the Sports Field—he takes no care in steering clear of the campers running around. I ain’t moving. It was Jonathan’s brilliant idea to utilise the expansive area of the campgrounds as the epicenter for Sports instead of chopping down a few trees to make a proper clearing for the activity. His patience had grown thin with each session, a stray ball flying into his direct path, or knocking over a lamp he’d just fixed, even pegging him on the shoulder a time or two.

Aiming to be as disruptive as possible as a form of protest, Hugo walks in between two campers scuffling over the soccer ball, pivoting on his heel to kick it out from between them and in the direction of the lake. Hope it rolls right in.

“My mistake,” he quips with a click of his tongue, continuing his stroll past the counsellors and towards the Dining Hall.

“Right.” He shoves the double doors open with one hand, uncaring for how they slam into the walls. “What’s the issue this time?”

Flinching slightly at the harsh clap the doors made against the walls of the dining hall, an annoyed arch of her brow formed, causing Harper to turn her attention at the gruff voice that followed. Still the obnoxious diva I remember you to be. “We need you to get something that slipped in there.” she points at the crack again, impatience growing in her tone the more she had to explain.

Without hesitation, Hugo carefully lowers himself to settle beside the floorboard in question. “Must be important,” he gruffly comments, searching for his hammer and chisel from the Tool Box. It better be. He lines the chisel up, wedging it between the hardwood boards, and gives a sharp knock on the end with the hammer.

Working in relative silence, using the chisel at all corners of the board, he steals the occasional glance backwards at Harper Evergreen—wonder if Jonathan knows, his eyes trailing over to the company beside her. Eva’s children were hard to miss, pictures of them scattered around her office to various degrees. He’d seen less and less of the boy, Shiloh, and more of Liv as of recent.

“There a reunion I ain’t aware of?” He turns his attention back to his work, the implications of an Evergreen, two Twine’s, and his own son being back at the camp not lost on him. Nicolas wouldn’t be straying far from his line of sight, not if he could help it—Jonathan reopened camp, which left Harper’s return less of a surprise than that of Eva’s own children.

Shiloh’s eyes narrow as Hugo works on pulling back the floorboards. “Not one you’re invited to,” The words flew out of his mouth as if he was replying to an annoying child; His voice was dry and quick, as his eyes never once flicked away from the floorboard.

The tone of her brother’s voice almost made Liv flinch with how much it took her surprise. She’d been watching Hugo from the moment he arrived, wondering what sort of reception he might give her, but she hadn’t expected such a tone from Shiloh. There’d never been bad blood between him and Hugo before that she’d known of.

Harper let herself watch intently, keeping her eyes trained on Hugo’s tools as he worked to retrieve whatever had been lost. She had been pointedly ignoring his glances, as well as his quip in favor of the mysterious item, before Shiloh’s remark toward the groundskeeper caused her to steal a glance at him now. She fought back a snort, but the way the corner’s of her lips quirked up revealed obvious amusement at the unexpected edge to his voice.

No way she’s fine with this, he thinks with a sharp yank of the floorboard, ripping it up from the nails. Hugo instinctively moves aside to allow Harper to retrieve what was so important, but thinks better of it, reaching through the open floor and plucking the object from the darkness. Once he realises, his shoulders slump and he bites back a sigh, a comment, and the urge to slam the Tool Box all at once.

“Here.” He gets to his feet, roughly holding out the map. “We have plenty of these at The Lodge.”

The Evergreen backed up some as Hugo rose to his feet, but not before swiping the paper out of his hand with a bit of roughness she hadn’t intended.

‘We have plenty of these at the Lodge’, his gruff voice elicited a similar temperament out of Harper now. “You’re fucking kidding me—” it slips, unapologetically unfiltered and biting as she flips it over to find something worthy of all the trouble she had been put through. New bends in the glossy brochure had begun to form at the lack of care she handled it with.

Once it was evident that there was nothing of importance to her, Harper had to fight the urge not to tear it in half. “I can’t believe I got on my hands and knees for this,” the hand occupying the paper comes up in the air, holding the brochure like a pity prize nobody should have been proud of getting, interest nonexistent now.

Hugo’s eyes narrow at Shiloh’s clipped comment about reunions, and further when Harper complains. Ignoring the sharp sting in his kneecaps, the ache in his calves, he bends down and flips the Tool Box lid closed sharply, yanking the handle to lift the box as he straightens. Un-fucking-believeable.

Then, she remembers Shiloh’s earlier comment—irritability flickering just for a moment—before she pivots to him and pins the paper against his chest with her hand. “Here.” Harper announces, fixing her tone to be as neutral as it can be. “In case you forgot.” Welcome back.

Shiloh’s eyes had finally been torn from Hugo as Harper shoved the item at him. Being surprisingly unbothered by Harper’s annoyance, he calmly takes the map in his hands, looking over it. Why was this randomly in the dining hall? “Wait,” his voice was quiet, like he was waiting to find something more peculiar before drawing attention to himself “There’s a trail missing on the map,” His finger points onto the map to the approximate location he remembered a trail to be before looking up at Liv, “How old are these maps? I know there’s a trail here, but it’s not shown on the map,” his eyes darted over to Harper “Were these maps made in the 1800s before camp was even established?” Or are there even more secrets and lies to be found? Shiloh’s brows were furrowed. He knew he wasn’t going crazy, he remembered that trail for good reason, so why the hell wasn’t it marked?

“Oh? Guess you weren’t important enough to be invited on the decision-making committee.” Hugo swipes at his mouth with the sleeve of his arm, the condescending tone of his voice reserved for obnoxious campers slipping into place.

“Reasons. The lot of you could stand to mind your business.” He doesn’t care to elaborate on safety reasons, fixing a glare on the Twine child and shifting his gaze behind him to address Liv. “Good to see you, Liv. M’sure Nic will be thrilled you’re here.” Tool Box in hand, Hugo retraces his steps to the Dining Hall’s doors, leaving the three of them behind.

“Thank you!” Harper calls out with a tinge of sarcasm, eyes boring through the back of Hugo’s head as he walks out of the Dining Hall in a purposeful stride. “Asshole...”

Turning her attention back to the siblings, and catching the tail end of Shiloh’s questions, she shrugs again while moving to stand beside him, eyes falling where his finger was pointed at on the map. “Maybe. Or Uncle Jon might’ve had them updated for the session after—,” her voice faltered, slowly losing its confidence, and her attention fell to the toe of her beige converse. After they disappeared, Harper’s mind fills in the blank and the reminder irritates her further. Shut up. Recovering smoothly, she lifts her head up and let’s her arms cross over her chest in a leisurely manner. “Your mom might know. But next time I see him, I’ll ask. Or one of you can.”

Once again, Shiloh couldn’t help but flinch at the mention of “his mother”, but he did his best to move past it. If he could avoid spilling his personal family drama to everyone at camp, he would. Dark brown eyes raked over the pamphlet, desperate for a number to date when the map was printed. “Sure, when I get attacked by a wolf on that trail, nobody bats an eye in the way of closing it,” he mumbled under his breath before passing the map on to his sister.

What…? Casting a sidelong glance toward him while he’s fixated on the map, Harper aims to speak again until Liv chimes in.

It wasn’t until Shiloh tried to hand her the paper that Liv snapped back to herself. Something inside her stomach had flipped over the moment Hugo had said his son’s name—said Nic will be thrilled you’re here. Like Nic was here. Like he’d see her. Like she might see him.

Since when did Nic work at Evergreen?

She shoved down the lump in her throat. Nic and their memories were something she could think of later, when she had the time to consider it without people around to stare at her. When she turned her attention to the map, she focused on the spot Shiloh had pointed to. It took her a few seconds to orient her mind to where exactly he was talking about, but she remembered the path well enough after a few seconds. Sure, it had been a few years since she’d been at Evergreen, but she’d grown up here; she knew there was a trail here.

“You’re right,” she said, running her own finger over the spot like brushing dirt away would pull it back into focus. “They definitely left it off the map, but I know which path you’re talking about.”

The older brother’s eyes narrowed as he watched his sister’s behavior. Hugo’s comment shook her, obviously as it related to Nic. Even with the little knowledge he had of their parting, Shiloh’s blood boiled as he saw the evidence of Nic in Liv’s hurt. If Nic truly was at camp, he’d better pray to whoever or whatever he believed in that he didn’t cross Shiloh’s path.

Big deal, it’s just another path. Succumbing to her boredom, Harper turns her attention up from the brochure in Liv’s hand to look over at Shiloh—tensity, and what looks like anger, drifting from him like a heat mirage. This caused an eyebrow to arch in mild confusion, her attention darting from him to Liv to decode their sibling communication. “Don’t tell me you guys have some sentimental memory with a path of dirt. So what if it’s gone now?” What the hell am I missing?

With a shrug, Liv passed the map back to her brother. The sound of Harper’s voice made it easier to tune out her thoughts and ground herself in the present. “Not anymore than I have with any other path,” she replies. “It seems weird to take it off now, but nothing to waste time thinking about.”

Taking the map in his own hands, looking it over one more time before shoving it in his pocket, Shiloh looked back at Harper, “Not sentimental, just a memory,” He huffed in response as he crossed the dining hall to the door where he first entered for orientation. “But I’d rather go find MacMillian to tell me what cabin I’m sleeping in before I just pick a random one,” He called from the other end of the dining hall, slinging his bags over his shoulder before returning to the group “Anyone else?”

outfit:

locations:

Dining Hall, Kitchen.

tags:

leon & hugo ( lostbird ), annie ( lvcid ), shiloh ( sunshineysoul ), olivia ( evermoon ).

 

[Wyll]

((Note: Thoughts will be crimson and italicized while speech will be crimson and bolded.))​

The Entertainer

Thomas
Mode

The soak was doing what it needed. He could feel his shoulders getting lighter as the cool waters washed over them. His breathing eased up, his mind cleared and everything seemed ever so slightly more tolerable. So much so that he considered just staying here through dinner - he hadn't done anything to make himself hungry after all. However, as much as he didn't believe all the rumors about this lake being haunted or dangerous or whatever crap the Evergreens had cooked up to scare the kids...he didn't want to be the lab rat to find out just how tall those tales were.

Then, just as he was convincing himself that there was no validity to the claims of the lake, he began hearing something. At first, he was convinced that he had imagined the sound, or that it had come from durther out in the woods. But the sound persisted - a gentle thud...just like the type you'd hear in a horror movie before the side character died. He pulled his eyes open and looked toward where the thudding was coming from. The smart thing to do would be to leave; get out the lake, get dressed and never return. But that was side character behaviour and Thomas had a bit too much of an ego to let himself simply be a side character. The main character would swim towards the sound and investigate and make an insane discovery. And, so, he slowly swam towards the lake - moving slowly such that he was ready to defend himself against anything at any time.

His investigation brought him to the docks and he could hear the thudding more persistently now. It had also gotten slightly louder with him getting closer. However, the loudness of the thudding was nothign in comparison to the banging of his heart against his chest as adrenaline surged through his body. It was clear that there was something under the docks, but he wasn't going to swim any closer without knowing what it was. Looking underneath, he could make out the shape of a small object bumping against the wood as the water danced. Looking closer revealed it to be a book and he couldn't help but chuckle a little. He had been so terrified over a book. That was almost embarassing, his only saving grace being that nobody was here to have seen it.

Swimming around, he picked up the book and swam it back to where his clothes were. He wanted to stay in the lake a while longer - especially with the tension that had worked its way back into his shoulders with the small scare he just had - but he wasn't going to take the chances that the next sound he heard could be something much bigger than a book.

He climbed out of the water and used his shirt to dab himself dry before putting his clothes, minus the shirt, back on. He sat there, shirtless, for a moment, taking the time to open up the book and see what it was. His eyes scanned the back before opening it up and seeing the name marked on it.

A small smirk found his features as he read over the name again. Jonnie, huh? I wonder if he wants this back...

Of a truth, he had no reason - other than pure spite - to hold on to it. The book did nothing for him and meant nothing to him. Plus, he'd pushed Jonathan's buttons enough that perhaps it was time to cu the old man a break. It would also, admittedly, be amusing to see Jonathan wrestle with Thomas, of all people, returning something of his. If only for that reason, Thomas wanted to get the book back to Jonathan. For now, though, he'd keep it in his cabin, hidden with that shovel he found - which, funny enough, had also been found around here. He wondered just how many other things were hidden and scattered and left here. Maybe even the note he left Renee? Officer Sunshine would have used it as evidence against him if it had been found, which meant it was still here. He just needed to find it before anyone else did.

Shaking the thought from his head, he flung his shirt over his shoulder and began making his way to his cabin to get a new shirt.

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