Recreating The World For Someone Like You

How to: Kick Some Ass and Achieve Best Friendship

Friday, August 3rd, 2015, 6:48 a.m. Hades Cabin, Long Island, New York

Calum woke up screaming the name of a person he'd barely spoken to for the third day in a row, marking it as the day he declared himself as insane. His heart pounded in his chest, and a cold sweat was causing the hair at the back of his neck to curl slightly. It was the same dream he had the first night, except every time Calum was abruptly woken up from the terrors, it hurt more and more.

He pushed his sheets off his lap after he sat up and grabbed himself a towel and clean clothes, walking out the door to go to the washrooms. His eyes finally adjusted to the bright sunlight by the time he reached the door of the Shower Room, so he doesn't have to shield his eyes from the blinding sun.

The shower room was the grossest place at camp--in Calums' opinion--with small shower stalls, grimy toilet cubicles, and dirty and rusted mirrors. The tiles on the wall were a blue-grey color with a dirty white matte tile on the floor. The sinks had mirrors above them, and the counter space around them had stains from gods know what in their ceramic bowls. There were little cubbies near the sink to place your clean clothes while you showered so they wouldn't get wet, so Calum plopped his clothes in the one that was his head height. He was alone at the time, but still quickly jumped into the shower stall closest to the wall.

He turned the faucet to get the water running, and waited for the water to warm up before stepping under the warm spray. His forehead met the cool tile on the walls as his shoulders get massaged by the water, and Calum allows himself a moment of relaxation. The last three days had been stressful beyond belief with training, studying, and half of the camp adoring him while the other half resented him (he didn't understand why any of them did either as he hadn't done anything worthwhile).

Calum washed his hair and allowed himself a few more minutes of bliss until the water started to run cold. Staying in the stall, Calum dried off and was about to grab his clothes in the cubby he left them in as the door to the washroom swung open and two voices started talking loudly. Calum griped his towel tighter around his waist as he listened to their voices.

"--it's not even like he's that hot. I mean, have you seen him? Who in their right mind would like someone who looks like death himself? No one, that's who."

"Yeah, what a joke." As the two laughed, Calum peaked through a crack in the stall and glared daggers when he realized it was Travis and Clark, twins of Ares. The two meatheads continued to make fun of Calum as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces, unknowingly trapping Calum in the shower stall.

Calum retreats to the small bench near the door of the stall and sits on it as he waits for the idiots to leave. He doesn't feel like fighting with them (he knows he'll lose) and doesn't know another way out of the bathroom, so he silently waits for them to finish up. Annoyingly enough, they take forever.

"He must think he's so cool with his dad being one of the Big Three." Clark starts, washing off his toothbrush. "If he wasn't, he'd be like every other guy here besides us; nobody."

"I don't know about that," a new voice says, startling Calum. "I mean, he's smart, fast, knows how to fight, and is a hell of a lot hotter than both of you combined." Calum tiptoes over and peeks through the crack in the door to see an unmistakable head of pink hair. A small smile stretches across his lips and he has to bite down on them to keep himself quiet. His cheeks are as bright as his defenders hair. A nice feeling settled into the pit of his stomach knowing that there were people who would defend him for nothing in return.

"Ugh," Travis makes a gross face at Michael and points to the door. "The girls bathroom is on the other side, Michelle."

Calum expects that Michael would get angry at the comment, but instead he laughs and places his hands on his hips, a surprised expression on his face.