DAY 3

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⌚ 6:00 AM ON THE DOT

Grace, as promised, doesn't fall from the top bunk today.

Instead, she's caught herself halfway to the ground so she's doing this sort of hanging / clawing herself up thing and consequently kicks El on the face in the process. El was asleep, despite hearing the annoying blare of the horn, but she's awake now.

"Help me up, will you?" Grace shrieks, her legs flailing in every direction but up.

El turns to keep her face out of the range of Grace's soft feet (is that even possible? To have soft feet?) and mumbles, "it's two feet from the ground, Grace. I think you can handle that."

Grace growls, finally managing to pull herself up and mutter some nonsense about her gym membership being good for something. El thinks all those hours she spent in the gym really decreased her brain size, though, as Grace has spent five minutes trying to get back up to the top bunk, but soon realizes that she has to get back down to get ready. El doesn't hesitate to laugh maniacally when Grace crawls down the ladder and stomps to the bathroom.

Once El hears Grace turn the tap and the shower sputter out a steady current of water, she locks the cabin door and brings out Grace's calamine lotion which has been tucked beneath her pillow the whole night. Looking furtively at the bathroom, she pulls her underwear down to her calves and twists the bottle of calamine open. She applies a dollop of it onto the 'affected area' as the bottle states, sighing in relief when the itch numbs slightly.

The current of water coming from the bathroom stops abruptly.

"Shit!" El hisses as she twists the cap of the bottle back on and tucks the calamine under her pillow again. She's barely put her underwear back on when Grace emerges from the bathroom in a purple towel.

"What were you doing?" Grace raises a wet eyebrow. She smells like vanilla, El notes. Not like that matters.

"Nothing," El manages in a cold tone, but her neck is feeling awfully warm. She loathes Grace so much god can she just stop staring?

Grace's eyebrow only hikes further up her forehead. She shifts, adjusting her towel a bit. "Whatever," Grace gives her that cocky smirk that she's seen so much of back in high school. "Shower's ready, Elizabeth."

"Fuck off," El mutters, grabbing a Camp Ashwood tee shirt and her second pair of shorts (she'll have to do laundry soon) on her way to the bathroom. Her head is pounding as she shuts the door behind her and turns the tap back on.

Grace is cackling from the other side of the door like a hyena and El wouldn't mind strangling her. She'd actually really like to do that.

 7:15 AM

"What's this supposed to be again?" El pokes at the pile of meat that smells suspiciously of feet on the tray in front of her.

"It's supposed to be corned beef," Louise says in distaste.

"But?" El knows by her tone of voice, there's more to it.

"It's actually a mistake," Louise adds.

El glances around the Campfeteria, looking to see if anyone is somehow enjoying their breakfast. She can see the Woods thoroughly gorging their meals, while the Ashes are practically choking this corned beef down. And some boys (predictably) are catcalling girls, telling them to "get that meat down!" or that "it's hard but it's really good!" or even to "suck it up and swallow!" Absolutely disgusting.

"I've actually never tried this," El doesn't know whether the frown on her face is due to the poor excuse for corned beef in front of her or to the most sickening group pre-pubescent boys she's ever come across.

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