It Had to be You

Chapter Eleven: A New Day

Max woke up to the sun shining on his face. Which was weird. Because he was absolutely positive that the flaps were shut behind him when he went to sleep. Peering over the metal rail that kept him from falling off the bed, he looked to see why he had been so rudely awoken.

The flaps of the tents were tied up, leaving sunlight streaming into the room and onto the wooden platform the tent was set on. Preston sat cross legged, leaning up against the leg of his bed. He was writing furiously in a journal, his hands flying across the page as he struggled to get all his ideas out into the real world before he was forced to leave for breakfast.

"Hey," Max said, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. "Don't you have a flashlight or something? The light woke me up."

Preston kept writing. "I don't like using flashlights, the unnatural light is too harsh and I have to hold the it with my hands so I can't write as fast. You would have had to get up in a few minutes anyway, breakfast starts soon."

"Yeah yeah," Max grumbled as he climbed out of his bunk. He had gone to sleep in his clothes, having been too tired to change, and he decided not to grab new clothes now. "Hey Preston? Has David said anything about when breakfast was?"

"Yeah," Preston responded, not looking up from his writing. "He said we had fifteen minutes about ten minutes ago. I would get changed if I were you."

Max groaned. "I went to sleep in my clothes last night, I'm not changing."

This caught Preston's attention, and his head snapped up to look at Max. Preston gave him a one over before simply saying "no."

"What?" Max replied, confused.

"I said no! You look and smell like shit. I hung up a sheet in the corner for changing purposes, if that's what you're worried about, but there's no way I'm letting you go to the dining hall like... that."

"Shut the fuck up Preston, I don't smell that bad."

"Yes you do. Also did you pack a hairbrush? Because that is a rats nest and you know it. I will not be living with a slob Max, as a man of drama I refuse to let that atrocity happen."

Max lifted his arm to feel his hair. Admittedly, Preston might have had a point. He hadn't had a hair cut in a while, his unruly mess of curls was almost shoulder length and constantly got in his face. However, Max did not have a hairbrush and he wasn't about to admit to that, so instead he silently grabbed his some clothes and stomped over to the makeshift changing room Preston had set up.

He quickly got changed, and as soon as he came out fully dressed he heard David shouting from the Dining Hall that it was time for breakfast.

Preston carefully tucked his journal under his pillow, before unzipping the mosquito  netting covering the entrance of the tent. "Coming Max?" He asked, holding open the flaps of netting.

"I fucking guess." Max grumbled as he followed Preston outside.

An: I wasn't going to update, but apparently this got to #1 in all of Camp Camp at some point??? So have an update, I don't know who decided that my very bad story should be the top, that seems weird but whatever. Have some fluff. And thanks all of you, so much! <3