Sixty-Two ☼ Phan

Twenty-One

"How the hell do you just accidentally destory a monument?"

James was pacing in front of us. I don't think I'd ever seen him so frustrated before.

"We didn't mean to," Chris defended. "We were playing around and accidentally knocked into one. And then they just, sort of, fell."

"Like dominos," Phil added.

"And we actually only destoryed half of it," Peej said. "Or maybe two thirds. Wait, no, because six to two reduced is three. Three over one?"

"It doesn't matter how much of it you destoryed!" James exclaimed, stopping in his tracks. "It's a monument!"

"A minor monument."

He let out an irritated sound through his nose. We were all still dripping wet, though back into our clothes, of which were also wet, as well as sandy.

Mr. L had ushered us down to his cabin. I couldn't really tell if he was mad, or just completely surprised at the fact we managed to somehow knock over six statues within the hour mark of the party. As for the party, I had no idea. Maybe it was still going on, even as we sat and waited for our punishment to commence.

Mr. L, at the moment, was not in the cabin. He had fled as soon as we arrived, pegging James to watch us until he got back.

I bit mt lip. All I could think about was my mom.

"She's going to kill me," I whispered.

Phil, stood beside me, was the only one who heard.

"What?" he asked.

I looked at him. "My mom. She's going to kill me."

"No, she isn't," he assured. "Besides, she probably won't even find out. Maybe it won't be that bad."

In that moment, Mr. L came back. His arms were laden with a stack of papers, which were overflowing to the floor as he struggled to shut the door. James rushed to help him. Once he was securely equipped and able to move forward, he marched promptly to his desk and sat the stack down. His face was the gleaming image of panic.

"I don't know how you did it," he said, facing us. "But you did it. And I have no idea what to say."

"How about, 'I'm going to let you guys off with a warning'?" Chris offered.

This earned a rather distasteful look from Mr. L.

Chris glanced away. "Or not."

"I don't want to be the bad guy here," he said, scratching the top of his head, which was losing more and more hair by the day.

"Then don't be," Peej said. "We're really sorry."

I glanced at Phil, who was shifting nervously. Despite the situation at hand, I couldn't help but think about the relationship between him and Mr. L. After what happened two years ago, did they still feel tense around one another? Everytime Mr. L saw him, did he feel guilty? Was the last time they stood in this cabin together because they had to address the fact he tried to kill himself? Did they even address it at all?

Mr. L looked conflicted. "Rules are rules, and you all know that destruction of camp property is against those rules."

"It was an accident," Phil urged.