ƒινє ; ησт ѕσ нαρρу ƈαмρєяѕ ραят ƒσυя/ƒσυя

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chapter v ; ❝treat me like white tees, don't get me dirty

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chapter v ; ❝treat me like white tees, don't get me dirty.

☀️

recovering from the gigantic tidal wave, a group of cody, dj, katie, and ezekiel went around helping the other campers up, to which they either received a prompted thank you! or took the support and left without a word.

the four of them first paraded over to your side of the beach, but dj - being the closest and most athletic out of the bunch - hurriedly clutched his colossal-sized, strong hand around your tinier one and pulled you up with little-to-no struggle.

"there ya go!" he beamed his soft and appeasing smile towards you, showcasing his pearly whites as a cute, little 'get well soon!' gift. "my mama always told me to look out for all the little people, so..."

"hehe, m'th-hanks!" you managed to choke out, giggling at his usage of words but having freshwater invading your lungs from after being dunked underwater by the force of owen's weight... then to, somehow, being launched out of the lake, into the sky, and towards the sand, accompanied with trent and noah.

you cleared your throat eventually, standing up straight as you regain your composure. at this, dj stares frozen at your stature, blessing you longer with his adorably manly features...

after a minute or so though, you begin to feel a bit uncomfy under his hypnotic gaze and the hot summer's sun. separating the cotton textile from snuggly hugging your body, you fan your white tee to rid away the weird ambiance being presented. this, in some way, draws the man's sanity to return to the real world, bidding you a haste farewell, then proceeding to help out any other random spectator.

after regaining awareness, the bass and gophers rushed to the beachline; some cheering at the humungous kerplop and/or the others shielding their eyes in case of a bare-bottomed owen, who may decide to accidentally flash everyone (having previously lost his swimming trunks). eventually, having found the specific article of clothing, the flipped boat is shoved back into the water with the help of trent, justin, bridgette, and geoff.

captain chef hatchet recuperates as restarts the boat's motor up again and picks up the overly confident, now-clothed teenager.

chris, still up ahead on the cliff the self-proclaimed life of the party had lunged from just moments earlier, announces. "the winners are... the screaming gophers!"

the killer bass grumbles in defeat, throwing spiteful side-eyes towards the segregated members of their own faction with their despicable chicken hats on; but it - again - gets drowned out by the acclamation of the opposite team (sticking true to their group name).

owen is soon dropped off, followed by a disinterested chef and a keen chris who travels down the escalator, carrying a pocket stopwatch that is attached to his cargo pants' belt loop in the palm of his hand.

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