Scarlett and her Disastrous Summer [ H i a t u s ]

✿6✿ I Actually Prefer the Term 'Colorful'

Chapter Six

I Actually Prefer the Term ‘Colorful’

July 6

 

I ended up sleeping through the bonfire, so I woke up extremely hungry.

I met my fourth roommate today. Her name is Brietta and she’s this short, blonde-haired girl with pale blue eyes and a smile so wide, it hurt to look at it. She’s really pretty, though, but she has an incredibly annoying voice. It’s high pitched and sounds like a squeal at times.

But it’s good to know that I wouldn’t be the shortest girl in the cabin.

“Why did you not attend camp fire yesterday?” Agnès asked, as I hung up my clothes in the closet.

“Because I fell asleep,” I said, with a roll of my eyes.

“It was fun.”

“I think your face is fun,” I retorted, in French.

“At least I’m not ugly,” she replied, en français as well.

Ouch. That stung. I felt as if she had punched me in the face. I dropped the dress in my hand and spun around to say, “Alright, listen here you fucking bitch.” I jabbed a finger into her chest and I didn’t even bother to speak in French this time. “You’re in America, so speak English. Second, you’re a spoiled rotten Frenchie who has no sort of empathy for anyone! And thirdly, don’t think you’re any prettier. Because you aren’t. I’ve seen prettier girls than you!” And, because my pride had just been basically snuffed out by this fake Barbie in front of me, I grabbed a random dark-colored dress from the closet and stormed out of the cabin and over to the bathroom, where I hastily changed into it. Then, I stormed back into my cabin (which was now empty) so that I could throw the clothes that I had slept in last night into my now-emptied suitcase.

I sat down on the ground and crossed my legs together. I stared blankly at the closet and sniffled. My eyes suddenly felt teary. I squeezed my eyes shut and that’s when I felt it: the first tear. It trickled slowly down my cheek, creating a path that led down to my chin. Another tear soon followed it…and then another…

I buried my face into my hands and let out a soft cry.

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I didn’t go to breakfast, and I didn’t stay in my cabin. Instead, I made my way over to Camp Cactus’s exit, and then made a dash towards the vacated road.

Everyone was busy eating, so the campgrounds were practically empty. I was able to make a quick escape. I remembered Spencer telling me yesterday that there was a café a few miles out of this area. I’m going to try to find it. I have a purse slung over my shoulders. There’s twenty dollars in there. Hopefully it’s enough for breakfast.

I checked the time on my phone. It was only nine in the morning, but the sun was already starting to beat down on my back, making me sweat. I kicked a rock beneath my feet and watched as it stumbled a few feet away from me. The ground was completely dried dirt, my feet creating tiny little tornados of dirt as they walked over it. I wiped a trickle of sweat from my forehead.

I should have put on some sunscreen, to prevent any kind of sunburn. I only had shades over my eyes.

I don’t know how long I must have been walking for, but it must have been a while, because the next time I paid close attention to my surroundings, I found myself in a small town.

It was like a ghost town. There was barely any activity here, save for some businesses here and there.

I found a restaurant beside a gas station, and I made my over there. I pushed open the rusty blue door and walked in. I was surprised to find at least twenty or so people in there. They were mostly old folks, drinking coffee and eating donuts. I directed myself towards an empty table and sat down. I stared blankly at the checkered table in front of me. This restaurant reminded me of the kind of restaurants you’d see in those ‘70s films. There was a disco at the center of the restaurant and a bar behind it. Pinball machines lined up the walls beside the restrooms and the flooring was a checkered blue-and-white color.