Top Bunk

DAY 9

⌚ 6:00 AM ON THE DOT

That horn will be the death of El. And not in the good way (ie "Finnegan I-should-really-know-his-last-name kayaking shirtless will be the death of me"). In the very, very bad way (ie "This poison-soaked knife will be the literal death of me").

She forces her eyes open - not all the way - and pulls herself out of bed, nearly bumoing her head on the ladder leading to Grace's bunk. El can sense that Grace has also just woken up and is in the process of rolling out of bed. It turns out, as El stands, Grace literally rolls out of bed. And lands on El.

Eventually, El escapes the tangled mess of flailing limbs and strawberry blonde slash poop-esque brown hair and skimpy nightwear and El prays that isn't Grace's boob. Whoa, okay, that's a nipple, yeah, it's a boob. The smaller girl flies across the room, away from El.

"What the hell was that?" Grace huffs, looking violated in every way.

El pulls at the bird's nest she likes to call her hair. "I should ask you, Upland."

"I - "

"What you just did was very...graceful."

Grace blinks twice. "Oh my god. Elizabeth." She rolls her eyes.

El knows it's wrong to be smiling so wide so early in the morning, but her top-notch pun plus Grace flying off the top bunk would put anyone in a good mood. "It's El, sweetie. Now go get ready."

Grace's eyes widen for a fraction of a second - El's surprised she even catches it - before she rolls her eyes again (already trying to fill the quota early, it seems). "I don't know what kind of drugs you're on that you're so happy and acting like...me, but you should get off them." 

Noticing Grace's tone is more bitter and grouchy than usual, El inspects her face. Grace's immaculate eyebrows are drawn together, her mouth is pulled into a tight frown (she would not be happy about those lines), crusty tear tracks are going down her flushed cheeks. El's smile vanishes. And then it gets replaced with a glare because why does El feel guilty?

"The amount of emotions that just crossed your face in the past thirty seconds is amazing," Grace snorts.

She's suddenly feeling better, El thinks.

"Well," Grace rolls her eyes (again), getting up and brushing herself off, "I'm going to take a nice, long shower to wash whatever disease I've come in contact with by being that close in proximity with your crotch."

⌚ 7:36 AM

"Eat up." El pats Brittany on the back and nods vaguely towards the chicken and waffles on the girl's tray. She grins at the sleepy faces of Cabin A then heads over to the counselors' table at the other side of the Campfeteria.

Upon nearing the other table, she registers a very strange scene unfolding. Will is trying utterly hard to open a strawberry jam jar, with Isaac trying to grab it from him ("Let me! Let me! I can do it, fuck, Isaac, I'm strong; do you see these guns?"). Everyone else aside from Grace is laughing at them. Grace is too busy with her poached egg and toast (apparently she's too good for some chicken and waffles) to even spare them a second glance.

"What's going on?" El asks cautiously, setting her tray in between Mari's and Louise's.

"Can't - " Will huffs, slightly loosening his grip on the jar for a second to focus on El " - open this jar..." He takes a deep breath and El notices his muscles popping up in his arms.

"He's been at it for half an hour," Finn says.

"And he hasn't asked for help?" El asks before biting into her chicken.