Top Bunk

DAY 30

⌚ 6:00 AM ON THE DOT

El knows for a fact that if a person's day starts before 7 o'clock, it isn't going to be a good one.

That's why all her days at Camp Ashwood have been subpar - they almost always start at six in the morning with that damn horn killing her eardrums. Sure, there have been some good days, but there are always exceptions to every rule.

Today seems to start out fairly well (then again, most of the time things take turns for the worse so El isn't expecting much) with the horn having Grace's eyes pop open and her flail out of El's embrace and onto the dark hardwood floor. (They've been sleeping together - not in that way, despite the discussion the previous night - for the sake of comfort and warmth. And so Grace doesn't have to fall from top bunk. Clearly that backfired.)

El yawns lazily, a smile already coming upon her lips. "Why is it," she stretches, "that you still somehow manage to fall off bottom bunk?"

"Shut up," Grace says, her sleepy voice muffled by the hair in her mouth. She lifts her head from the floor to send El an especially nasty glare. Her nose is red from the impact. El notices remnants of salty tears on her cheeks. Those are from a Gwen Upland-related nightmare, no doubt. She isn't sure if she should be relieved or concerned that Grace is having them again. It's probably for the best if she doesn't mention it. Grace would disregard what she says on the matter anyway.

Still, seeing Grace land on the floor awkwardly has to be one of the most hilarious things El will experience in her lifetime. Almost forgetting about Grace's tear tracks, El gnaws at her tongue to stop herself from laughing. "Are you sure you don't have any brain damage from the amount of times this has happened?"

"I'm having brain damage just talking to you," Grace retorts as she lifts herself from the floor to sit at the edge of El's mattress.

"Ouch." El runs her foot up and down Grace's pale arm, relishing the goosebumps she feels appear beneath her own touch. She finds herself smirking when Grace leans into her touch, sighing softly. "I'm hurt, Grace, really."

"Yeah, whatever," Grace says quietly. She has the tiniest smile tugging at her lips - El is awed that she can get that out of the ice queen herself. "You'll get over it."

"I don't know, that was a pretty deep cut."

Grace rolls her eyes, flinching away from El's foot. "Walk it off, El." She gets up.

"Where are you going?" El tries not to sound too disappointed. Maybe she wants to get Grace grinning. Maybe she wants to talk about her nightmares. Even that would be a stretch, though.

"Taking a shower." Grace glances back at El. "Care to join me?" The invitation doesn't have a lot of weight to it, but it's an invitation nonetheless. It comes off more serious than El thinks she intended.

The girl still in bed tries to suppress the heat in her cheeks. "Not this again." El sits up, crossing her arms.

Grace shrugs and slams the bathroom door behind her. The shower starts to trickle and she calls, "Your loss!"

⌚ 7:18 AM

"You'd think for our last breakfast they'd go all out," Isaac says bitterly. He pokes at the limp slices of ham upon the lone English muffin on his tray. An over-poached egg sits on top of the pinkish pile, yellow sauce half-heartedly drizzled on it. Considering the quality of the past breakfasts they've had, this could be considered somewhat special. Still, El doesn't have the heart to call it an Egg's Benedict - more like a sad excuse for one is what sits on everyone's trays.