Talent Is Subjective || Camp Camp Fanfiction ||

Chapter 3: Camp Cool Kidz (Idiotz)

"Gwen, it hu-u-urts!" David wailed as she plucked another shard of glass from out of his shoulder. She sighed in sympathy, weakly patting his head as more tears sprung out of the edges of his eyes.

"I know, David," She brushed a couple of twigs out of his locks, grimacing slightly at the contact with a bit of goopy-dried mud. He could feel another empathic stare being sent his way when she turned to pick up a cotton wad as well as a bottle of disinfectants. He tugged at his bandana, bracing for the pain of how it would obviously sting at contact. "I know."

David bit back a spiteful remark of how she obviously didn't know because she was at some knitting club with another fanfiction writer and his boyfriend, instead choosing to project his emotions through another yelp when she dabbed a bit of antiseptic on his grazed knee. Gwen patted him again, murmuring a couple of pet names to keep him grounded. "Ow. Did you— OUCH! U-Uh, did you have fun?"

She glared at him as if expecting that it was some form of mockery, and then her face slipped into a smile. "Eh, you win some, you lose some."

"Oh, really? What went," He bit his lip when she wrapped gauze around one exposed piece of flesh. One of the grosser injuries, where the skin ripped off and some dirt managed to land into the pink brawn. "—what went wrong?"

"Ah, nothing really," She shrugged, blissfully still smiling. He was glad that she at least smiled outside of camp. For the first few weeks, a few years back, he was worried that she was constantly pessimistic and brooding. Turns out that she just really didn't like her job. (Which he can't understand for the life of him, but oh well, at least she was still capable of being happy!) "We were having a fun time— knitting, writing, talking. Kevin gave me a deal with some shrooms."

(...shrooms? Weren't those hallucinogenic mushroom things that you should normally avoid having possession of?)

(Oh, he's sure that Gwen's just joking!)

"Nah, what really rained on my parade," She continued, patting his injuries and looking up at him for confirmation. He gave a thumbs-up, leaning forward to listen closely. "Was that my dad called in the middle of it. Can you believe that? He started spewing a bunch of nonsense about how he wants to check up on me and shit, and now he's heading on his way to camp!"

Heading on his way to camp? David veered back, processing it. "...wait, you're mentioning this now?"

She nodded vigorously, unaware that she had just dropped a massive bombshell on him. "Yeah! Does he think he can fucking just— just get in the car, drive off for a concert, and then call me after telling me that he's gonna come visit? Who the fuck does that?"

David began tuning her out, deep in thought. Well, why didn't she say any of that earlier? Come on, he just came back from the Wood Scouts after having to walk over glass to rescue Max; how's he gonna digest any of that? Good on Gwen for opening up for once— she continued ranting, oblivious of his disregard —but that was still not good timing! He would scold her if it were not for the fact that he was so nice.

But, still, she should definitely reconsider when to mention such important things!

"Oh." He squeaked, blurting out whatever word would let her know that he was still there. "Oh." He repeated, this time gaining her attention.

"Yeah, "oh", my dad's coming here!" She flailed her arms, eyes widening when she knocked the alcohol bottle over with the cap open...

...and onto David's knee. The one she hadn't wrapped in gauze yet.

To say that he screamed was an understatement. If you asked him, he'd describe it as the hybrid call of a rooster and a pterodactyl combined with a banshee. If you asked Max, Nikki and Neil, who were outside? They'd describe it as a girly scream. The girliest in the history of girly screams.