On a stark bedside table, the hands of a classic black alarm clock ticked the last few seconds to five a.m. Without much fanfare, it began to shrilly ring. From beneath a large dark blue comforter, a thin, pale hand reached out. The fingers trailed over the tabletop, black nails scraping over the varnished wood. When they reached the shuddering alarm, the hand suddenly reared up and slammed back down, affectively silencing the shrieking. The hand slid back under the covers.

A calendar on the wall showed the date: June 1st. It was circled three times in red marker. Written in small, even handwriting were the words "Counselor training for Jump Summer Camp". On a chair next to a filled bookcase sat a purple duffel bag. A blue sleeping bag was placed precariously on top of that.

The pile of blankets on the bed shifted, and a girl sat up, looking cranky. Her chin-length black hair was sticking up in the back, and her eyes bore the smudge of yesterday's mascara. She glanced over at the calendar and the duffel bag and sighed.

Rachel Roth was not a people person. On top of that, she was definitely not a children person. So when her mother practically forced her to sign up for summer camp counseling, she considered it more of a punishment than an opportunity. For what, she had no idea.

"Trust me, honey," her mom had said when Rachel brought it up. "You'll thank me for the experience." Rachel doubted that this would ever happen in a million years, but wasn't going to back out now.

She pulled herself out of bed and padded toward the bathroom, intent on taking a shower to look at least mildly presentable. Not that she wanted to impress anyone or anything. The rest of the counselors were most likely other college kids who just wanted to earn credit for a failed course. Rachel didn't fail any courses. On the contrary, she was getting credit so she didn't have to do any P.E.

She stood in the shower, putting next to no effort in scrubbing the lavender shampoo into her hair. Afterwards, she didn't even bother drying her hair; she just brushed it and let it hang around her face in a wet black curtain. She brushed her teeth and did all that she needed to with not even a hint of enthusiasm. She was going to do this, but it didn't mean she had to like it.

At first glance, no one seemed to be in the kitchen. This made sense, considering that it wasn't even six 'o'clock yet, but her mother was a notoriously early riser. Rachel grabbed the teakettle and filled it with water, keeping one ear open for her mother. While she waited for her tea to boil, she sat down at the dining table and focused her gaze on the window above the sink. The aspen tree in their front yard was ruffling slightly in a breeze. The early morning sun cast the world in a faint glow. Rachel sneered. She didn't like the sun. This was an issue, considering her life in California. Maybe she should have chosen a college on the East Coast.

The growing scream of the teakettle brought Rachel back down into reality, and the young woman stood and pulled it off of the stove. She got on her tiptoes to reach the shelf where the tea was kept. As she stretched for it, she wondered why they even bothered putting the tea up so high – neither of the household occupants topped five feet five inches. When Rachel's fingers finally brushed the box holding chamomile (her favorite), she was startled by the sudden appearance of her mother's voice behind her.

"Rachel, do you need help?"

Rachel knocked the box to the floor when she flinched, spilling tea packets everywhere. She grimaced, closing her eyes tightly. Did her mother need to be so quiet?

"I got it," she said gruffly, now cleaning up the mess she had made. Her mother remained standing a few feet away, watching her daughter with mildly worried blue eyes. Rachel stood, meeting her gaze with an identical one. "Did you need something?"

Angela Roth had been beautiful once. At least, she looked beautiful in the old pictures of herself. Now she just looked like a skinny, sad-eyed woman in a worn bathrobe and slippers. She had conceived Rachel at the tender age of sixteen from an older man. Rachel's father had never really stuck around much. He was a horrid, violent person whom had actually sought Rachel out more than once to practically torment her. They had eventually been able to put a restraining order on him, but Trenton Roth fought it every day.

"Did you want tea?" Rachel asked, turning away from her mother. She hated think about her father, and looking at Angela tended to bring along thoughts of him.

"Sure," Angela murmured. Rachel heard a chair scrape across the floor – her mother was sitting down. Rachel sighed inwardly. This meant she would have to talk to her. Rachel poured the boiling water into two mugs and plopped in the teabags. Stiffly, she turned and walked to the table, holding one out to her mother. "Thank you," Angela said as she took the cup. Rachel sat down, clutching the hot mug between both hands. She watched the tea leach into the water and wished it would go faster.

"Are you excited to be a counselor?" Angela asked, sipping her mug.

"No," Rachel answered briskly. She had never been one for comforting lies. "I don't want to go."

Angela pursed her lips. She brushed a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. "It will be a good experience. You'll make friends."

Rachel scowled. "I have friends, mother." She didn't, really. But she hated when her mother was right.

Angela tapped her fingernails against the ceramic cup. She wouldn't meet her daughter's eyes. "You'll make new friends," she amended.

Rachel still felt bitter. "They're all gonna be perky and bubbly. Or idiots. Or both, if I'm lucky." Of course, she didn't actually know anything about camp counseling. Most of her information and opinions were products of horror movies.

She and her mother finished their tea in silence. The sun steadily rose in the sky. At six a.m., Rachel stood and said a quick goodbye to her mother before going to her room and grabbing her bags. Since the only car they had they shared, Rachel had to take the bus out to the campsite. Rachel hated public buses. The day was striking up to be awful.

The bus arrived at six fifteen, and she stumbled on, duffel and sleeping bag in tow. As soon as she sat, she pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and took out a book. The bus was almost entirely empty, so Rachel put her bags in the seat next to her and leaned her head against the window. She settled in for a long ride.

…

Rachel was woken up by the sudden bump of the bus leaving the paved road for gravel. She gingerly unstuck her face from the window and picked up her book off of the seat, shoving it back into her bag. She could not recall when exactly she had fallen asleep, but when she looked around, the bus housed completely different people than she last remembered. They were all around her age, and each had big suitcases near them. Rachel deducted that these must be her fellow counselors. Keeping her hood up, she glanced around the bus, taking each in.

In the seat just behind the driver was a boy with black hair gelled into spikes and dark sunglasses. He was staring straight ahead, no expression on his boyish face. Rachel could practically smell his cologne from where she was sitting. A few rows behind him was a gorgeous, tan, long-legged girl with long red hair and glittering green eyes. She was flipping through a girly looking magazine. Rachel scowled. This chick screamed sorority. Rachel hated sororities.

Rachel turned slightly. A few rows behind her and across the aisle was a girl with bubblegum pink hair arranged in edgy pigtails. She was dressed entirely in black, and scowling at her phone. Rachel assumed it wasn't getting a signal. Leaning over Pink Hair's seat was a boy with a thatch of fiery red hair and an explosion of freckles on his face. He was talking her ear off, apparently oblivious to the fact that she wasn't listening.

At the very back of the bus, two boys and a girl were laughing loudly about something. The girl was leaning over the back of her seat, so Rachel couldn't see her face. The girl was slim, with lean-muscles and skin the color of dark chocolate. Her curly hair was arranged into two massive pigtails. She was listening to the story of a boy roughly twice her size, who had a shaved scalp and a very bright white smile. This along with his gray eyes contrasted intensely with his brown skin.

And lastly, leaning in to the others' conversation, was a lanky boy with wild blonde hair. To Rachel, it looked like the kid hadn't brushed his hair after waking up with extreme bedhead. He had a brilliantly wide smile with a few crooked teeth, and his eyes were a very dark green. Freckles lightly speckled his nose and cheeks.

He's kind of cute.

Rachel jerked her head forward at the thought. Where in the world had that come from? Rachel did not think boys were cute. Boys were stupid and overrated. What gave this stranger the right to be mildly attractive?

He's probably a horrible person, Rachel thought to herself, leaning deeper into her seat. And since when were blondes ever interesting people?

Sure, it wasn't fair to be judging him so harshly without even meeting him, but Rachel was making an exception for this boy. He wasn't cute. Not even in the slightest. And the sooner her brain caught onto that, the better.

The bus stopped with a jolt. Rachel turned to look out the window. They had stopped in front of a large expanse of well-trod grass. In the middle of this expanse was a flagpole, and beyond the flagpole was a large, wood building. On the edges of the grass expanse were eight wood cabins. The whole expanse was surrounded by huge pine trees. Distantly, she could see little trailheads here and there. Rachel groaned. Could this place be any more stereotypical?

The doors opened, and everyone began to get off of the bus. Apparently, they had all grabbed their gear and stood instead of gaping out the window like her. Rachel briefly cursed herself and struggled to get her things together while the rest of the counselors got off of the bus.

"Need any help?" asked a friendly voice. Rachel looked up, and immediately blushed when she came face to face with the blonde kid. He had that ridiculous grin on his face.

"No," she answered, perhaps a little quickly. The boy shrugged one shoulder.

"Well, alrightie then," he said lightly. He continued down the aisle, whistling. For some reason, this made Rachel dislike him even more.

When the bus left, leaving the eight teenagers in a cloud of dust and exhaust, Rachel became aware of two figures standing at the base of the flagpole. Everyone was heading toward them. Rachel followed.

Up close, she realized that the two figures were a man and a woman. Each were tall and relatively muscular, as if they were professional athletes. Both had wavy black hair and blue eyes, although the man's were a shade or two darker. Rachel thought they could be siblings.

"Hey, counselors!" the woman said as soon as they were close enough. She raised a hand in a half wave. A few of the group mumbled a greeting back.

"Welcome the Camp Jump," the man added, smiling. He was classically handsome. "I'm Mr. Kent."

"And I'm Miss Prince," the woman finished. "We run this place, and are going to be training you in the art of camp counseling for the entirety of this week."

"Campers arrive the week after," Mr. Kent picked up. Rachel couldn't help but marvel at how well rehearsed this was. Was there some kind of teleprompter behind them? "Each of you will be in charge of a cabin of eight kids ranging from age twelve to fifteen."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Miss Prince smiled. "There are four rotation activities you will be monitoring in teams of two: leadership, arts, sports, and nature." With each one, she ticked off a finger. Rachel immediately decided she wanted to monitor art. Maybe the girl with the pink hair could be her partner – she seemed alright.

"You can put your things in Cabin One for now." Mr. Kent pointed to the closest cabin on their right. "Then report back to the flagpole for partner assignments."

Rachel heaved her bag up onto her shoulder and followed the group towards the cabin. It took her a moment to realize that the sorority girl was walking beside her, looking at her expectantly. Rachel glanced over, her eyes narrowed somewhat.

"Hello!" the girl cried as soon as their eyes met. She had a thick accent that Rachel couldn't quite place. "My name is Kori Anders. What is yours?"

"Rachel," Rachel said after a moment. When she didn't say anything else, Kori took it upon herself to continue the conversation.

"It is wonderful to meet you, friend Rachel!" she exclaimed. "I am very excited to be working with you!"

"Yeah."

"I have never been to the 'summer camp' before. Have you?"

"No."

"Do you go to the University?"

"Obviously." Rachel was beginning to wish Kori would talk to someone else. She hadn't had this long of a conversation in weeks. They had reached the cabin, and Rachel purposefully broke away from the redhead, hoping she'd catch the hint. Unfortunately, Kori just followed her. She had a glittery pink bag and a matching suitcase. A purple sleeping bag better suited for sleepovers than the outdoors was rolled on top of her suitcase. Rachel pulled her hood closer around her face. Everyone was staring at Kori, especially the boys. So, by proxy, Rachel was also in their line of sight.

"I very much enjoy your jeans!" Kori said, pointing at Rachel's legs. Rachel felt like a million eyes were staring at her.

"Uh, thanks," she mumbled. Everyone was heading back out of the door. Bags were scattered everywhere. Rachel jammed her hands into her pockets and stepped into the minefield. Kori followed, making comments on everyone's baggage. Rachel tuned her out.

Back at the flagpole, everyone had gathered into something of a ragged circle. Rachel remained slightly towards the back of the group, behind the shoulders of two other counselors. Kori squeezed in next to her. Mr. Kent clapped his hands together, obviously glad that everyone had gotten the simple directions right. He flashed yet another brilliant smile. Rachel briefly wondered if this man had ever done toothpaste commercials.

"If you all could spread into a larger circle, that would be great," he said cheerily. Everyone obliged. "Alright. Now what we are going to do is play a little game to get to know each other." Rachel groaned inwardly. She hated these kind of games.

"The game is called "Two Truths and a Lie"," Miss Prince explained. She picked up a beach ball from next to the pole. "And it is exactly what it sounds like. The person with the beach ball gives their name, two truths about themselves, and a lie - not particularly in that order. The goal is for everyone else to guess which one is the lie. I'll begin, and we will pass the ball around the circle." She smiled prettily, twirling the beach ball between her fingers. "My name is Miss Prince. I was born on a Greek island. I have worked for the government. I have been married before."

Everyone was quiet. Rachel briefly wished she hadn't gotten on the bus at all. Finally, the red-haired kid raised a hand. Miss Prince nodded at him. He cleared his throat, looking somewhat nervous. "Uh, you don't have an accent, so I'm gonna go with Greek island."

The huge guy with gray eyes sniffed. "Nah, man. There's no way she worked for the government. I mean, no offense miss, but why would you go from government employee to summer camp overseer? It just doesn't add up." Rachel found herself agreeing. Despite his jock persona, this guy seemed to be pretty smart.

Miss Prince smiled. "You're both wrong. I have never been married." Both of the boys looked dumfounded. With a chuckle, the tall woman playfully tossed the ball to her fellow overseer. Mr. Kent flashed her a smile.

"I'm Mr. Kent," he said. "I've also never been married. I've changed my name. I used to be a reporter."

"Name change," the girl with pink hair supplied. She had apparently put her phone away and was now looking on with near boredom. Everyone else nodded. Even Rachel found herself bobbing her head.

"Nope." Mr. Kent had a very loud voice, and it seemed to ring through the trees. "I'm a married man. My lovely wife is named Lois." He gently passed the ball to the pink-haired girl, who looked almost miffed at getting Mr. Kent's lie wrong. She rolled her eyes at the ball, holding it only with the tips of her long pink nails.

"Name's Jennifer," she began. "Uh, people call me Jinx. My favorite food is blueberry pie. I, um, used to shave off my eyebrows." Rachel wrinkled her nose at that last one, hoping it was the lie.

"Why would people call you Jinx?" the red-haired boy asked. He seemed very intrigued by her.

She shrugged, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe I'm bad luck."

"Does blueberry pie even exist?" the girl with pigtails asked. Her eyebrow was arched high on her forehead.

"Yes," Jennifer smiled, "and it's delicious. Also, I've never shaved off my eyebrows. That's nuts." Rachel let out a tiny breath. Jennifer tossed the beach ball. It landed right into the cute blonde boy's arms.

No, not cute, Rachel corrected. Not even a little.

"Well, I'm Garfield!" the boy said enthusiastically. "Let's see. I'm pretty interesting, so this shouldn't be too hard." He tucked the ball under one arm, stroking his chin comically. A few people chuckled. Rachel glared. Garfield snapped his fingers, as if he had just figured out what to say. "Alrightie. I'm really funny, my favorite color is blue, and I'm vegetarian."

"It's probably the one about you being funny," Rachel mumbled, somewhat under her breath. She had expected no one to hear, so it was surprising when a good portion of the counselors-to-be burst into laughter. Garfield caught Rachel's gaze and stuck his tongue out at her playfully. She just blushed.

"No, I'm hilarious!" he cried out. "But my favorite color's green!" With that, he shot the ball in her direction. She just barely caught it. Rachel suddenly wished she hadn't opened her mouth at all.

"Uh, my name is Rachel," she muttered. She was looking down at the ball instead of at anyone else. "I like to read. I live with my mom. And…um…my favorite color is pink."

"Pink," everyone chorused. Rachel wanted to crawl into a hole. She threw the ball randomly, hoping someone would catch it.

The pigtail girl made a diving catch, earning a few impressed whistles. Rachel barely paid attention. She did catch that the girl's name was Karen, she went by Bee, and she could beat anyone in any challenge. This earned a few more competitive cries. Everyone was in a good mood now.

Kori seemed totally confused by the whole deal of the game. When the ball was thrown to her, she first told everyone three truths (she was from France, her sister was named Kami, and she had a yorkie dog named Silkie). After general confusion when the girl insisted they were all true, Miss Prince attempted explaining the game again. There were then a few more tries in which Kori gave every combination of truths and lies that wasn't the wanted one.

The ball was then forcefully given to Richard, the dark-haired boy who smelled like strong cologne. Despite the antics, he appeared to be in as much of a good mood as Rachel. Richard liked puzzles and coffee. He seemed mildly interesting. Rachel found herself wanting to get to know him better.

The big black guy was Victor, an All-American football player and a lover of all things food. He also had a prosthetic leg ("I'm secretly a pirate," he'd joked, pulling his pant leg back down). The last person was the red-haired boy, apparently named Wally. He ran track and moved around a lot as a kid.

"Well, that was fun!" Miss Prince said when the ball was tossed back to her. She flipped her black ponytail over one shoulder, turning to face Mr. Kent. "We learned quite a lot."

"Especially about Kori," Garfield joked. Everyone laughed – except for Rachel. Garfield had been putting in more and more of these little one-liners during the ice-breaker game, as if proving his original comment about being funny. It ground Rachel's nerves, especially when they actually were a little laughable.

"On that note," Mr. Kent chuckled, "let's give you all your partner assignments." He pulled a small notebook from his back jean pocket. It looked like one a reporter would use. He flipped a few pages in, then cleared his throat. "Richard, your partner will be Kori. You will be monitoring leadership." The two looked at each other. Kori smiled and gave him a tiny wave. Richard nodded awkwardly, pursing his lips. He was still wearing those sunglasses.

"Victor, your partner will be Karen. You will be monitoring sports."

"Don't call me Karen," she corrected, slapping Victor's outstretched palm. "It's Bee."

"Jennifer, your partner will be Wally. You will be monitoring arts."

Rachel's heart sank. There was only one person left.

"And, last but not least, our nature monitors will be Rachel and Garfield."

…

A/N – Hello, you cuties. I have no idea where this is going. Hopefully there will be more? Let me know if you like it? Anywho, I was working on Subtle Differences and I had a massive brain-splosion AU idea that I just had to write. Sorrynotsorry. This has probably been done before, but I do not give a single hoot. Hope y'all enjoyed!