Helga was decently sure that there was never a recorded time in history in which a question was asked and the full, final answer was "summer camp." There's a first time for everything. (Or, the AU where Helga grew up on the opposite side of the country from the rest of the gang of PS118- and meets them all for the first time at 22, as a summer camp counselor. She knew she wasn't looking for love, but she also knew life had a funny way of giving her what she doesn't necessarily want.)

"How many boyfriends do you have, Helga?"

It was the fifth time that summer that someone had asked her that question- and it was only July 23rd. It was the first time, however, that it was a male who had asked her that. She looked around the disaster she had gotten herself into- the paint she had smeared across the porch by accident- which was definitely dried and peeling on her face, the giant, slowly deflating beach ball on her left and a very disgruntled chipmunk lurking dangerously close to the edge of the scene.

And in lieu of answering their question- she instead gazed down at her appearance, baseball pants and a bright pink t-shirt with a giant hole ripped through the middle and enough glitter glue to glue together a glitter house, the hole showing off the striped ref's polo that she had on underneath it.

"You know-" She had no plan to answer their question as there was no good one, "I get that quite a lot."

She heard the sound of the seahorse collapsing behind her.

She winced.

They were talking to her- but she wasn't listening, because only one thing was ringing out clearly in her cross wired, mind field of a mind.

How in the hell did she let it get that far?

Six weeks earlier…

When she was asked "why do you want to work for us, Helga?" she knew the answer wasn't, "well my life is a complete fucking disaster, haha, so why not?" She knew it wasn't. But that was all she could pull up in her mind.

"I like being outside and I like kids," is what she ending up saying that day over the Skype web interview, and it must have been good enough because she was standing there, child-clearances in hand, ready to spend a full summer at Camp Igatseli. She had moved across the entire country to be there- moving from sunny California to the mountains of Pennsylvania.

"You're running away from this," her sister, Olga, warned her before she left. Her sister, 32, and leading a beautiful home life with her perfect husband and precious son, was always choc full of advice. Helga was very good at picking out what was good advice and what wasn't. She was also equally as good at ignoring it.

So she did.

She meant, sure, when you have no idea what your plans are for the future, and you barely graduated high school, and that was two years ago, and your ex is trash and all your friends sided with him anyway, maybe the brightest of all ideas wasn't to run away to a camp on the other side of the country for an entire summer. But Helga never claimed to be the brightest. Others claimed that for her, but she'd never put the pressure of that title on herself.

So, she sat there in the back few rows of young adults, wearing a tank top with the camps name emblazoned on it, staring around at what had to become her friends over the course of the summer, because really, what options did they have? It was hot, none of the cabins had A.C., she was already sticky from sunscreen, and there were at least two bugs on her legs.

But, she was nine hours away from her parents, the threats of college, and the worst ex in the history of exes, Dean, so how bad could it be?

She was trying her hardest to pay attention, she was. Her mind drifted in and out of the older woman's droning on about camp life: breakfast hours, lunch hours, days off (only in between sessions) their assignments, co-ed trips, how there would only be one counselor for every 6 campers, do's and don'ts. It was all good information, but she couldn't help her mind wandering to the mix of young adults she was standing with, herself amongst the youngest. Really, she got the basics down: don't swear in front of the kiddos, have sex on your own time, don't fuck whom you directly work with. And trying to scope out who wouldn't be the absolute worst to hang out with just felt like a bigger priority.

"Alright," the woman, Ms. Pleagg announced. "I'm just about done. This is all lined out in the packets in your hands, so please, look over them. You'll go through first aid this afternoon. We'll give out assignments for the first week tonight. Sleep where you want tonight- the vets can show the newbies some options. Please, try and keep it segregated-"

"Hey, wait a minute-" A young black guy started to say-

"By gender, Johanssen. Gender."

People were laughing. Helga got the feeling that kid was some kind of a big deal. It was always how people reacted to you, that showed who you really were. Very few times did it have to do with what you actually did.

"And, I beg you:" Ms. Pleagg returned her gaze to the room, "can we at least make it to July without a dramatic break up? Last year it was day three. Day three, guys."

People stared around at each other. The guy who had spoken before, Johanssen, shrugged and spoke up. "No promises, Coach."

She sighed. "I figured as much. Off with ya's, then, the next," She checked her watch "two hours are yours, drop your stuff at a bunk, be back here by noon, I beg you, be on time." She gave that same kid a look. Helga could only see the back of him, but by the tensing of his muscles, she could tell he was indignant.

"What? I'm always on time!"

"Phoebe, please make sure he's on time." Helga could barely see the girls head over the other people's heads, she seemed very short. But Helga thought the girl laughed, and said something to the boy sitting on the other side of her.

"I'll make sure that he's on time, Coach." The guy said, and the woman's eyes seemed to twinkle.

"If only I could get an Arnold to look after all of you," She said, and a few people laughed and a few others had objections, and she laughed over them and waved them all off. "Go, go!" She ushered, shooing people with her hands "you're wasting your own time!"

Helga didn't know where on earth she was going, but she walked like she did anyway. She had a duffle slung over her shoulder, and a pillow tucked under her arm. She seemed to have had packed light, to say the least, compared to some of the other girls, who were lugging a suitcase or two up large hills. She hoped they wouldn't have to move around too much, or maybe she did, because although she felt bad for them, it was kind of funny to watch. Up ahead of her were the only people she recognized, because they were the only people to talk so far, Johanssen, Phoebe, and Arnold, walking in a line. The black kid had a dark blue duffle over one shoulder, and a pink paisley bag in the other hand. Helga could only guess that the bag was Phoebe's, as she only had a backpack on her back. Arnold had a backpack too, but it was giant, the backpack of a backpacker, so large that you couldn't even really see him. She guessed that they were already a defined threesome, and so that wouldn't be the first place to look for companionship.

There was a pack of girls to her right, already chatting. It wouldn't have been too hard for Helga just to wander into their path, but it would be, since she hadn't needed to make new friends since like, 8th grade, and she wasn't entirely sure she remembered how.

So, she kept on by herself, seeing where they were going finally, up ahead. It was just a set of cabins, probably not even enough to house them all. She felt the nerves settle in, she was going to have to talk to people eventually if she wanted to sleep somewhere tonight.

She looked at the girls again, someone was vehemently relaying a story to the rest, who were listening intently. They were intimidating but not impossible. She lingered behind them, hoping she could just follow them into a cabin. There were only five of them, most of the cabins looked like they slept at least ten.

When they got to the clearing, she realized she was passing the trio, who seemed to be having a heated discussion.

"Come on, Pheebs-" the guy said insistently, and Helga raised her eyebrows. She wondered just what they were trying to get up to. Whatever it was- Helga didn't need to involve herself.

The girls walked confidently up to a cabin a little bit ahead of her, so she picked up the pace, and once they were inside she hesitantly knocked on the wood by the screen door, and opened it.

"Hey-" She said quietly. "I was wondering if-"

"Ooh, sorry-" A girl with black hair and a nasty look in her eye sneered, "we're all full." There were five girls in there, each one sitting on the bottom of a bunk bed. Which would have been ten spots to sleep in. Helga wanted to argue with her, but from the mixed bag of pitiful looks and sneers she was getting, she realized she'd rather not spend the night with them anyway.

"Okay." She said plainly. She wanted to turn around and leave, be the bigger person, but that was never really her style. "I hope you guys and your imaginary friends have a really good night," She said snidely, letting the door shut behind her. She had to roll her eyes as she left, who was that entitled at a summer camp?

Rolling her eyes and not keeping her eyes on the steps seemed to be a mistake though, because she missed a step. She fell face-first into the dirt. Her duffle tumbled away from her. People were still walking by with their friends, chatting amicably. Helga wondered for a moment if anyone would come offer her a hand, but no such luck. She tried to keep her composure, and stand up confidently, but when she reached for her bag, she realized someone had stepped on it. She had this overwhelming urge to set the camp on fire, or cry. Or set the camp on fire, and then cry enough to set it out. She looked up at the other cabins, people greeting each other with handshakes and hugs, filing into them.

She really did not think she could handle getting rejected twice in a row.

She weighed her options, scanning the crowd of people for someone else who was at least walking by themselves, but they all seemed to blend together. Some people were continuing past the row of cabins, so there must be cabins somewhere else, so she could try her luck and do that. She glanced down to the packet she had dropped, now with massive mud stains on it, and picked it up hurriedly. She wished she wasn't the kind of person who panicked easily, who always had it together and kept it cool, but she just wasn't.

She flipped through, looking for some kind of map, or something. It might be lonely, or a long walk, but she would definitely take a cabin by herself somewhere if it was necessary, and kept her from having to talk to anyone else for the rest of the day.

But there was a lack of a map in there.

Her hands were starting to shake, and she knew that over-whelmed feeling that was rustling up in her chest, the one that led her to tears so often. She hated the chemical imbalance in her body, that caused mood-swings from the highs of the tibetan mountains to the lowest valleys in the ocean, but they were inevitable, they just happened. When she was younger they led to fits of anger, yelling and swinging fists. After puberty, more often than not, it was tears or just straight numbness.

She didn't know what else to do, so she swung her bag over her shoulder, and kept walking, following the path that the others were still on, past the cabins.

They were coming up on another clearing of cabins, some with their doors open, people waiting on the porches for people who were running up for hugs and high fives. A group of girls had already started to french braid each other's hair, strewn out across the porch. They had on hoodies, and Helga only then realized how windy it had gotten, watching their hair fly a bit around them as they tried to contain it. They seemed approachable, nice even. If the earlier incident hadn't already happened, Helga probably would have just gone up to them and asked if they had room. But the rejection still stung at her chest, and she was too nervous to even attempt it. There were people still walking ahead of her, so she prayed she could just keep walking and find an empty cabin eventually.

She was probably a hundred meters from the cabins when she heard thunder. She turned around quickly, seeing that the porches had been abandoned, she could see even from the distance, everyone ushering inside and shutting their doors. She didn't see anyone behind her at all.

She turned back around and the people in front of her were gone.

Panic settled in, and she looked back and forth between the continuing path, and the cabins frantically. How pathetic of her would it be to wait out the storm on a porch? It wouldn't be perfect, but she could probably shield her bag better under the little bit of coverage it had.

But if the others had already disappeared, how far could the other cabins be?

The wind had really picked up, and another crack of thunder hit the sky. She looked up and saw the trees shaking with the force of the wind, shaking almost as badly as she was. Her hair was in her mouth from her looking back and forth, her knees were knocking together, and had it not been for the loud crack of thunder, she would have thought that the rain on her face were tears.

She took a few more steps upwards, towards where she didn't know the others had went, before nearly slipping and falling face down again. She saved herself, hands out in front of her. She saw her paper getting soaked in the rain, and frantically she shoved them under her shirt, trying to keep them safe, as she hadn't read them and hadn't really paid attention to the woman talking.

Her hands were shaking even worse with nothing to hold on to, so she held on to her bag in the front of her and tried to surge farther up the hill, rain pounding her head harshly. Her feet kept slipping down on the mud, a treacherous path ahead of her. She willed herself to not cry.

She smelled it before she felt it.

She smelled this strange cocktail of smells, of trees and old cars and dust and something distinctly male, before she realized her head wasn't getting hit by the rain.

She turned her head and nearly jumped, because a boy's chest was there. She dropped her bag in surprise.

He had his sweatshirt hiked up, so it was still on, but folded over the top of his head, so it could protect her from the rain. He had broad shoulders, that were flexed up over her.

"Damn, these PA storms," He way blonde and tan with a big head: his face looked like it was made of good things in this life: daffodils and baked goods, "They come out of nowhere."

Helga just gawked at him, the boy who looked like he was made of the sun itself, that was protecting her from the rain.

"I like your bow." He shrugged at her, position awkward because he was holding his sweatshirt over his head. Her bow was tied around her ponytail, colors coincidentally matching with the shirt the camp had given her that morning. "It goes with the shirt." He was smiling broadly at her.

"Arnold, man," A voice called from a bit ahead of them. Helga looked over. The trio of them must have caught up with her while she was struggling up the hill. Phoebe and the other boy had already made it passed them, further up on the path. "I'm carrying three peoples worth of shit now," It was true, he now had Arnold's backpack on one shoulder, his duffle on the other, and Phoebe's in one hand.

"I can carry my ow-" Phoebe began, but he continued to talk over her.

"So can we move this along, please?" Johanssen shouted over the rain. The sky cracked again.

"Come on," He was taking his jacket off completely, quickly. He plopped it on to Helga, setting the hood on top of her head. He had her bag in his hand before she could say anything, and he turned back to smile at her "we know where we're going."

Any other day she'd refuse, she'd take her own bag, and she'd find her own path. But it was raining, she was freezing, and his sweatshirt was soft. She wasn't a damsel in distress, but in that moment, she might have been a heroine who could use a little help. She clutched at the sweatshirt thankfully, and followed him up the hill.

She could see the cabins, like the other two they had passed earlier, and she could wanted to breath a sigh of relief. Even with Arnold's sweatshirt, the rain had soaked into it now, and it was freezing. However, Gerald and Phoebe were veering to the left, towards another path.

"Are you guys crazy?" She shouted, clutching at Arnold's sweatshirt. "There are cabins right there!?" She wanted the rain to let up partially so she could hear them, she had to strain over the sound of the rain.

"Yea, but they're not our cabins." Johanssen didn't bother to turn around to look at her, which just infuriated her more. Arnold was several steps ahead of her, and holding her bag, so she couldn't just abandon them.

"It's practically a fucking hurricane out here-" She yelled, halting her steps poutily. She had no idea where the hell they were going that was worth the shlep- but she highly doubted it could be worth it.

Arnold laughed, and Johanssen turned around to raise an eyebrow at her for only a moment.

"You're not from PA, are you?" He guessed easily, turning his head back around and continuing to walk forward with Arnold only a few steps behind.

Phoebe, all short legs, and looking as cold as Helga felt, was a few steps behind her. She scurried up to Helga, hood of her own sweatshirt over her face. Her hair was wet and hanging in her eyes anyway. "Trust them," She said quietly, grabbing Helga's wrists and pulling her forward.

The fucking Taj Mahal better be waiting on the top of this hill, Helga thought as she trudged forward.

They had gone down a hill, and then up another little one, before there was a clearing of trees with oddly shaped cabins, unlike what she had seen before. They weren't the typical ones that they passed three sets of, they were smaller, and really tall, cone shaped. They had what appeared to be a rope bridge leading to them, and Helga realized that they were actually elevated on poles, hanging off the side of the hill. And she could practically praise the lord that Arnold and Johanssen were headed towards one. Arnold held the door open, and she and Phoebe broke into a run towards it, as he waved them inside.

"Okay," She grumbled as she got inside, whisking her wet hair off her face. "Where the hell are we, this better be the fucking palace of all camp cabins, because I don't know why anyone would shlep all the way-"

"Whoa, whoa." The boy who had carried three bags held up a hand to calm her down. He set down the paisley print bag he was holding, undoubtedly Phoebe's, carefully, by a bunk. The other two he haphazardly tossed on to a bunk across from it. "You can start with a thank you, because my man Arnold over there, carried your stuff all the way up here-"

"It was nothing, Gerald." Arnold interrupted him calmly, locking the cabin door behind him so it didn't flutter too badly in the wind. "Wasn't even heavy." He said to her kindly, like he didn't carry her stuff all the way there just to be yelled at, and handed it to her. She realized, despairingly, that her bag was canvas and now was soaking wet, and muddy from when she had dropped it.

"Oh god," She groaned as he handed it to her.

"Is that canvas?" Phoebe asked, frown on her face, picking up her own bag and setting it on the bunk.

The black boy tsked at her. "Rookie mistake, …" He paused, staring her down. "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't say." She raised an eyebrow at him, "It's Helga. Helga G. Pataki." Helga answered as she set her bags down on the wooden floor tenderly, trying not to spread the mud.

"Helga G. Pataki. That's a fightin' name." He mused, throwing Arnold's bag at him. "I like it. I'm Gerald, that's my girl Phoebe, and boy-wonder over there is Arnold. Did you bring a clothesline?" Boy Wonder, Helga mused over it quietly. She liked it, and ticked it away in her mental box of Save for Later.

"A what?!" Helga asked, as she unzipped her bag.

"A clothesline, Pataki. For hanging up wet shit, as in: everything in that bag of yours."

"No," she said honestly, looking up at him. "Laundry isn't my all encompassing thought every day." She bit sarcastically.

"You can borrow mine," Arnold added helpfully, shaking his long hair out to get rid of some of the water.

"Dibs on first shower!" Phoebe called, as she plucked a little bag from her duffle like she had won a battle.

"Shower?" Helga asked. She looked up at the room for the first time. The beds were all single bunks, not bunk beds, and there were only four of them. A big window on the side let out a view of the whole camp, and there was a fire place in the adjacent corner with a big arm chair.

"Why do you think we hauled all the way up here?" Arnold asked, already running a towel over his head, "These units have their own bathrooms."

Phoebe gracefully all but leaped over Helga, to a door that she hadn't even noticed by the entry way, and twirled through it.

"Babe, pass me a towel?" She asked, clothes rolled up under her arm. Gerald tossed her one, and she caught it with a smile.

"It's also the best kept secret of camp, so don't go tellin' everyone." Gerald said to her gruffly, sitting down to pull off his shoes.

"They're mostly used for Grandpa & Me," Arnold explained, as he sat down on his bunk. Helga guessed the bunk behind her was hers now, due to process of elimination. "And for rental during the commercial year. Kids aren't really allowed up here- they don't need them scratching these babies." He knocked on the deep wood of the bunks.

"Arnold knows about it because he went to Grandpa & Me, every summer," Gerald explained with a laugh. Arnold threw a pillow at him.

"I did, and I had a great time!" He insisted. He looked back to Helga. "You look…cold. Did you want the next shower?"

She could feel the mud clinging to her knees, caking into the crevices, so she nodded, in a very small way, not wanting to fully admit it.

"We took the long route because we don't need nobody knowin' these are up here, except Coach and Sheryl, Rob and that crew, they're probably already in 6 & 7. There's a shorter path back to the lake right around the corner. Only problem with these sweet, sweet beauties-" Gerald stretched his feet off the end of the bed, yawning widely, "That window don't go nowhere except a 45 foot drop- so if we get a surprise inspection tonight, we're kind of fucked."

Helga just remembered they were asked to split cabins between boys and girls, and she turned to look at the closed door Phoebe had just went threw. The water was already running.

"Are you guys sure you want to be breaking rules," She asked, kicking her feet to wiggle out of her sopping sneakers. She knew she and Phoebe would be breaking rules too, but they were boys, inevitably they'd take the harder hit of it, if they were caught. "The last thing I need is to be sent packing over you two."

They looked at each other, sharing a secret smile.

"Nah," Arnold said nonchalantly, hands tucked behind his head. He spoke in a way that would have seemed arrogant had it come from anyone but him, "we'll be fine."

"Besides, it's the number one rule of camp:" Gerald told her as he took off his jacket, obvious muscular arms coming into view. He paused, as if what he were about to say were a Divine Proverb, a teaching to rule them all: "a rule is only really broken if you get caught."

"Here," Arnold was standing up then, digging through his bag, "a clothes line," he set it on his bed. It looked rather unimpressive, some fishing line and clips, but if it worked, it worked. "And you can borrow these, because you don't want to hang out all day in wet clothes, trust me." He set out a pair of sweat pants and a tshirt. "They shouldn't be too massive on you."

Phoebe emerged from the shower. Helga's jaw dropped at her speed, her hair wrapped in a towel. Phoebe smiled at her. "You'll master the five minute shower, trust me." She told Helga with a smile. She looked sweet in her capri yoga pants, and long sleeve blue t-shirt, where the sleeves fell over her hands. "Do you have anything to change into? You can borrow something of mine."

Helga grimaced, looking over Phoebe. She probably wasn't more than 5' 2", compared to Helga's 5' 8" stature- and with Helga having more body mass in general, it wouldn't work at all. She'd take swimming in Arnold's clothes over looking like a size two sausage in a size one casing any day.

"Arnold's got me, but thank you." She said genuinely, picking up the clothes Arnold set out for her with a smile in his direction.

"Take this," Gerald tossed it at her while she had no hand to catch it with, so it landed on her face.

It was a towel, which Helga was thankful for, just not that it was on her face.

"Girls, man, always takin' my towels." Helga shook the towel off her face to glare at him. He laughed. "That face you're makin' is almost worth the drip dryin' later."

The shower was heavenly, the hot water sinking into her cold, cold skin. She didn't want to linger too long, because Phoebe's had been so fast, and she didn't know how long they'd have hot water for. It was hard not to though, the steam making her feel so fresh and clean.

She was fast, by her own measures, drying off with Gerald's towel. She slipped into Arnold's sweatpants and shirt, heart sinking at that they pooled around her feet, enormously too big. The shirt it didn't matter so much- but the pants were bad. She wrapped her hair in the towel, and opened the door, feeling the cool air brush her skin.

"Damn," Gerald said, "what were you doin- writing a novel in there?"

Helga blanched. "What- I was so fast?"

Arnold grinned, Phoebe giggled into her palm, Gerald's eyebrows just raised. "No- you weren't. Is this your first summer counseling?"

They already knew the answer to that, apparently, because in between the wall by Gerald's bunk and the fireplace, they had hung up Arnold's clothesline. Her sheets were already pinned to it. She was pissed, because they went through her stuff, but grateful, because she had no idea how to hang a clothesline.

"Did you go through my stuff?"

"Relax, Phoebe got out your sheets. You don't want to sleep on wet bedding, chill yourself. I'm showering- and just so you know, we accept thank yous at any time." He shut the door behind him, and Helga did feel a little guilty.

But before she could say anything, Phoebe was talking.

"Oh, no, those won't do. You can't look like a morning after," She checked her watch "2 hours and 52 minutes into camp!" She was talking about Helga's wardrobe, which she could admit, was mildly ridiculous.

Arnold was grinning. "I think she looks cute, Pheebs."

"I am not cute," Helga retorted indignantly. The image she was trying to set up for herself here really wasn't coming through at all yet. She was tough as fuck, goddamnit.

"Whatever you say, Helga." He shrugged with that dumb grin on his face. He was insufferable. He settled back unto his bunk, bed already made up, and then she noticed all the beds were, flipping through his packet. Helga really must have taken longer than she thought she did.

"I have some leggings that are a little big for me, please give them a shot." Phoebe was digging through her bag. "Can I braid your hair?"
"Was that a question for me or hair boy over there?" She replied snarkily.

Hair boy, Helga chastised herself, not her best jab, not at all.

Phoebe ignored her obvious dig at Arnold. Arnold did too, or at least he didn't say anything, but Helga saw the eye roll he allowed himself, and she was ready to respond to it, but she had her wrist grabbed by Phoebe.

Phoebe dragged her to sit in front of Phoebe's bunk, wide tooth comb in hand.

"Do you want one braid or two?"

"Two," Helga replied, settling down to sit in front of the bunk, digging some dirt out of her fingernails. "Pigtails actually kind of used to be my thing."

"Two it is!" Phoebe enthused, and Helga enjoyed the dig of the wide tooth comb on her scalp.

She didn't really know how long she was sitting there, letting Phoebe work on her hair, when Gerald emerged "Nothing like a shower to make ya' feel like a new man!" He announced, towel wrapped around his waist. It was too small, so it was probably Phoebe's. His chest and stomach were well defined, his curls hung in his face. "I'm also a new man who forgot his clothes, so be a pal Arnold, help a brotha' out, please?" Arnold was laughing and digging through Gerald's duffle before Helga could blink.

Helga didn't know how the last half hour had happened to her, going from flat on her face in the dirt, to being in with the obvious It Boys of Camp Igatseli. But if the twinkle in Gerald's eye when he winked at her was anything to go by, she had a long summer ahead of her.

She tried not to let that wink remind her of Dean- but the thought floated through anyway.

The same view, the view of the mess hall, the one she had seen exactly as she saw it now not two hours ago, looked entirely different.

She walked in, Arnold's shirt nearly hitting her thigh, Phoebe's leggings were tight but not to the point where you could see through them. Helga could not wear see through leggings. Gerald lead the pack of them, swinging open the door to the mess hall to greet a cacaos of noise- Phoebe and Gerald both spinning off in different directions to be greeted by people. Helga was bashful, standing in between them and Arnold. She had disrupted the order, she supposed. People were staring at her like she was an unfamiliar portion of a math test- like they should remember her, but couldn't quite place her. Arnold swung up to her right side, putting a hand on the back of her shoulder blade to steer them in the direction Gerald had just gone in- when suddenly Arnold's hand was gone.

There was a man a little shorter than Arnold standing there, with a vice-like grip on his bicep. He was probably reaching retirement's age, but he stood with surprising strength. "Day three, Shortman. Three."

Arnold was batting his hand off his arm with a good-natured laugh. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Rob- it's been two hours."

"Yes well, the depths of your charm have always been an enigma, Arnold." He let himself be batted away all the same- he let his eyes fall on Helga's before fully removing himself. "Nice to meet you, young lady."

"Likewise, Sir…" The end of her sentence fell off due to that no one was paying attention to it. She raised her eyes, and her eyebrows, to Arnold's. "What was that?"

"He's just giving me a hard time," Arnold watched him go, laugh still dancing on the corners of his mouth. "That's Rob. I've known him since I was a kid. He'll probably die here."

"Who's dying where-" A kid probably no taller than Helga asked, hardy with broad shoulders and a broader waist line. He had a hand full of pretzels and an easy-going stance.

"Me if we don't eat lunch soon," Arnold replied jokingly, "Where did you get the pretzels, Harold?" Arnold walked backwards while talking, jumping to sit on a table. It was odd to Helga how he navigated the room as if he had it memorized- the way he looked at home in everything he did there. He might have come every summer since birth, but it had still been nearly a year since camp was last in session. She followed him anyway, blithely, clinging to him to protect herself from having to talk to anyone else. She leaned against the table he sat on- he sent her a small side grin.

"The kitchen. That's where I spent the last two hours- I had to schmooze ol' Riesling into it, though. She hit me with a broom." He stuffed a few more pretzels into his mouth ungracefully. "Do you guys have a spare bed in your bunk?"

"Nah," Arnold brought up his knee, propping his foot up on the table. He looked to Helga. "I think we're all booked, unless someone, you know wanted-?"

"Me?" She could hit him for putting her on the spot like that. It was something she considered, mostly while Arnold was showering and Phoebe and Gerald were gossiping about former counselors. It wasn't that she didn't deeply appreciate their inclusion of her, but rule-breaking on the first night was nerve wracking none the less. Still, she got the feeling that she'd be better off breaking rules with Arnold and Gerald than being a law-abiding citizen with anyone else. They made her feel welcome. "Wasn't plannin' on it, Hair Boy."

"Wait, who ar-" Harold started, as if Helga had been invisible up until that moment- but his sentence was interrupted.

"We saved ya' a spot, Harold!" A literal giraffe of a boy spoke in a drawl, approaching the circle of them. His slow southern voice sounded like all of his words had to be dragged through pudding before reaching the surface. "Sid remembered, don't you worry."

"Where is Sid?" Arnold asked, looking at the giant kid that just joined them without introduction. Helga longed for name tags already, keeping names straight was already proving to be difficult.

"Convincin' Thorpe that it's probably not in his best interest to be pissin' off Rhonda on our very first night."

"Is it working?" Arnold's boyish grin was back. Helga hated that one the most, she thought. It was irritatingly attractive. Like, how dare his expression come together in that way, with the laid back slump of the shoulders, and the slightly raised eyebrows, and the overall causality of it all. She couldn't tell if she'd rather kiss him or fight him.

"Probably not." Arnold's eyes crinkled up at the edges- he must do that when he finds something super amusing, and the distinction got even harder to make.

"Are you Arnold's girlfriend?" The giraffe held out his hand for her to shake. "Real nice to meet ya- I'm Stinky."

"Uh," She shook his hand. "We met two hours ago, so I'm gonna go with a no on the one. But I'm Helga."

"Then why in the heck are ya' wearin' his shirt?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

She looked down. It was just a red t-shirt with the camp's logo on it in white, not unlike the tank top she had on two hours ago. "How can you tell?"
"Ain't cha' bother to look at the back?" She twisted her head around, but it wasn't as if she could actually examine the back while she was wearing the shirt.

"Oh-" Arnold reached out to her waist, pushing her a little so he could see the back of the shirt. "Whoops." He grimaced. Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked over her shoulder at him. "It's my Color War shirt from last year. I forgot me & Gerald got ones with our last names on them." Her eyes narrowed at him. He laughed nervously, scratching at his neck.

She was was one crinkly-eyed smile away from throttling him.

She opened her mouth to retort, or yell at him, or do something- but she was interrupted by a squealing girl.

"Arnold, there you are!" And there she was- in all her glory, the girl whom had shut her down not two hours ago. "I've been dying to see you- it's so hard to catch you!"

She ran in to hug him. Helga didn't exactly want to smash her like a bug- but if a meteor happened to hit her at that exact moment, well…

Helga wouldn't cry about it.

"Rhonda," Arnold laughed a little. "I've been here, where I always am." He pulled back from her hug, let his hands rest on her upper arms. "It's good to see you, though."

"Yes well," she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "When isn't it?"

She was tall, taller than Helga, and Helga hated that. Helga would also place money on that she was probably wearing eyeliner, which was just obnoxious. Who wore makeup at camp?

Her hair feathered out- unnaturally straight. Helga wouldn't be surprised if she had brought a straightening iron. No wonder her bag had been so enormous.

Arnold was laughing at her, shaking his head. Her face split into a smile too, a hint at that maybe she had been joking.

Helga still didn't like her- no one's teeth should be that white.

Arnold was asking her a question, settling back to sit beside Helga again. Helga was going to pay a bit of attention, but someone had a hand on her wrist.

"Hey-" there was a girl a little shorter than Helga, but not by much, standing there. She had honey colored dreads pulled up into a knot on her head. Her shirt was artistically falling off her shoulder, tank top visible under it. She looked really bashful. "Did you find a cabin to stay in for tonight?"

"Oh," Helga could feel her face flushing. "Yeah- actually," She leaned half of her butt on to the table Arnold was sitting on, hand propped up on it. "I did."

"Oh," the girl seemed more embarrassed. "I'm sorry about earlier, Rhonda can be really extra. I just didn't want to start the summer off with some kind of, I don't know." She paused, hand twisting in her shirt. "Political drama, or whatever."

"Ah- don't worry ya heart away, Nadine-" Gerald was pushing in between them, loud mouth drawing the attention of the nearby crowds of people. "We got her all sorted." He wrapped his arms around her tightly, bring her close to his chest. She made a face, pushing against him. "She's our girl, now!" She wiggled harder to attempt to get out of his grip, face marred with disgust. "Stop resisting, I'm trying to love on you- did no one hug you as a child?" Gerald was grinning at her. Helga's body went slack, and the look on Gerald's face was one she was familiar with. It told her that she had a reaction, she don't even know what face she made- but she gave him some kind of indication. He was pitying her- and she hated that.

She was all too aware that there were too many eyes on them, that they had the attention. Helga realized she was sweating.

Helga wasn't exactly used to attention. She wasn't used to hugging- she wasn't used to random girls she didn't know checking on her well-being. She was used to taking care of herself- getting her own shit done, hanging out with her friends on her time, if she took the time to seek them out, and she was used to… him, and that had went so well.

Now, she was standing in a room full of people she hadn't known stood on the earth yesterday, looking at her with concern- wearing the shirt of a boy who worked so hard to make sure it didn't rain on her, hair braided by a girl who wanted her to feel included, being hugged by a boy so it was obvious to the girl who had come to check on her that she had a place to be.

It was enough to make her want to vomit.

"Hey, hey hey-" She was wiggling out of his grip, speaking before she could even comprehend what to say "let's get ONE thing straight around here," She didn't have much room to escape, to give herself air to breathe, so she hopped up to sit on the table Arnold was sitting on, back very much to him, "first and foremost: I am my OWN girl, thank you very much. Second of all:" She balked, as she had spit out her previous words so quickly she hadn't thought of words to follow them. She tucked up a converse covered foot on to the table, wrapping an arm around her knee. "WHEN are we eating?" She diverted, "I am STARVING over here."

"Amen, sister." Harold called from behind her.

Coach appeared around a corner, "alright, alright- I've heard the masses, you're starving- I get it. We have some things to run over before lunch. Gerald, Arnold, Stinky, Rhonda, Nadine, Harold, and uh-" She scanned the room for the people who weren't apparently in their circle, or Helga. "Megan, Nate- can you go set tables?" Those teens groaned. "No groaning- you've heard this speech before, move it or lose it."

Arnold's hand brushed over her shoulder as he passed her, following Gerald out the way Coach came, into the dining room. She wondered why the hell these people were so touchy, seemingly all of them.

Coach looked out over the room- investigating faces. She called out a few more names, Helga didn't even take them in, because none of them were her's, and they all evacuated the room too, assigned to kitchen duty, or various other tasks. There were about nine people left, minus Coach, staring around confused as to what had them singled-out like this.

She shut the door to the hall way behind the retreating backs.

"You'll hear me talk a lot, as I'm sure you can guess, over this preparatory week." She said quietly. Helga took a moment to actually take in this woman- medium stature, shorter than Helga. Her graying hair was collected into a neat bun at the back of her head. She was the only person she saw that wore a collared shirt, with a tan color, and she had completely mom-jeans on. She walked back from the door, walking over to lean back on a table adjacent to the one Helga was sitting on. "If you're going to pick any speech to listen to, I would choose this one." She had a ring of keys on a lanyard around her neck, and then another long chain with a whistle at the end. She had dark sunglasses hooked onto the collar of her shirt.

"I've known a lot of those kids, or adults, or whatever you want to consider them, a long time. Some of them as long as they've been alive. All of them out there, even the most confident-" Helga couldn't help but feel like Coach's eyes were burning into her, "sat where you're sitting in this moment. We know there's a lot to take in, all of us. We know your Senior Leaders, Rob, LIz, Janet, Tammy, Jack-" Helga knew who none of these people were- "may seem demanding at times. We know it may seem alienating, all of these people who know each other, know the land." Coach rubbed her hands on her pants. "We also know that each of you is here for a reason. Whether or not you know it yet, you do fit in with us. It may get a little crazy out there-" she looked outside, through the propped open screen doors, "and there's a lot to keep track of, but it's protect you and our campers. We're a family here, all of us. Each of you is now included in that. You each bring something special to these old woods, we're here to help you figure out what that is. You're already family to us, we just can't wait until we're family to you."

Helga, for some reason, really wanted to cry. This was her second time in one day of wanting to cry. Camp was overwhelming, already.

She wasn't sure how she was going to survive till the end of the night, let alone the end of the summer.

The rest of the day gave her and her emotions a bit of a rest. Except, maybe, the flutter in her chest that a certain blonde character was causing- but that seemed like more of a tomorrow problem than a today one. They learned basic first aid & CPR, procedures for water rescues and took a tour of the main camp ground. She desperately wanted to learn archery, and was surprised at how beautiful she thought the horses were. She would rather die than work in the crafting unit, though, until she walked inside and found out that it had air conditioning. So did the nature lodge- where the kids would learn about leaves and the hibernation patterns of bears, fascinating. There were only two other air-conditioned units at the camp. The first was Bethany Row, a large, three story building that more closely resembled an apartment complex than anything else. Helga learned that it was their center of operations: their computers and paperwork. It also held their mecca of a kitchen, taking up almost the entirety of the first floor, where food was mass prepared and later transported to the mess hall. The rest of it was dormitory style living- where a handful of the more "lux" camps were held- and where they were to sleep when not on duty. It had become a quasi-camp tradition that everyone slept in cabins on the first night, until the first weeks assignments were given. Then you'd bunk up with your co-counselor in Bethany Row for the rest of the week.

Bethany Row was spitting distance from the Mess Hall, and on flat ground, too, but extremely well concealed by trees. Helga hadn't noticed it until it was pointed out to her, and she thought that was the way they wanted it.

Camp was set up so no walk was an easy walk, persay, due to the abundance of hills. If you left the mess hall, you'd come out to a giant clearing of trees, probably a square mile. If you chose to go left, you'd hit the pools, the ice cream stand, and one of the sets of bathrooms with showers. Beyond that, you'd head into the forest before hitting a few sets of cabins. That looped around on itself to get to Fisher's Row, the cabins that Helga herself was going to sleep in that night, which were actually behind the mess hall, just a short five minute walk back. If you went straight out of the mess hall, you'd go down a giant hill, and you'd see the craft hall and it's big porches. If you kept going, you'd go down a giant grassy field with just a dirt path, until you hit the lake and the boat houses. On the other side of lake, the left side, sat the Archery plane. If you stopped there and went right- you'd hit the horse stables. If you still kept going straight- you're going into the forest, where you'd eventually hit a few sets of cabins, and then eventually the nature lodge, the farthest walk from the Mess hall, sat in the deepest into the forest they allowed campers to go into. If you went right out of the mess hall to begin with, you were headed towards the exit of camp, and also, coincidentally, Bethany Row. Directly behind the mess hall was the cam fire pit, where they'd bring the kids after dinner every night for songs & games.

Helga's legs were aching in a way she didn't know legs ached. They had struck up a fire in the fire pit, but two of the boys had hiked it down so it was by the lake. They used to do campfire by the lake every night, but apparently one too many kids fell in the lake. She had met so many people, heard so many stories, heard so many rules, in one day? She was ready to nod off on the blanket that someone had stretched out, it certainly wasn't hers.

Phoebe was sitting next to her, swimming in Gerald's hoodie, sitting criss-crossed. She wasn't talking much, but had a large smile on her face as Gerald recounted the camp's only run in with a bear. He wasn't there for it- or alive, considering it had happened in the 1980's, but it was a story passed down through generations. Helga looked out across the campfire to where Arnold was sitting on the other side, arms around his knees, laughing with everyone else at Gerald. He looked even more golden, lit by only the fire, laughter lighting up his features.

Helga wanted to push him in the lake.

Or, at least, have him come sit by her.

She shivered a little involuntarily, and laid fully on the blanket in front of Phoebe, on her side. Phoebe's hand came up, almost like she hadn't thought about it, and pat Helga's braided head. She had no idea what was up with these people and all the touching, but it seemed like she had no options but to get used to it. And Phoebe's fingers felt nice on her scalp, so she just nuzzled her face into her hand and let it be.

"Hey guys-" A figure hollered at them from half way up the hill, "Come help us get this food down!"

Helga didn't want to seem like a Meninist- but she was glad when Arnold, Gerald and Sid rose up to go up the hill. Her legs hurt, sue her.

She hated of it, lying there on her hands, but she thought of Dean- and his insistence that she help whenever there was something to move. She had always kind of liked that about him- he never doubted she could do anything less than he could.

When Arnold passed by her, she felt something drop over her shoulders. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that he was gone before she even fully registered it's touch.

She sat up, and the flannel shirt pooled in her lap. She grinned involuntarily, slipping it over her arms. She wasn't even cold, but he must have seen her shiver earlier. She squinted in the dark to see him, now just wearing a grey t-shirt, disappearing up the hill, towards Beverly Row.

When she turned back, Phoebe was smiling at her like she knew something Helga didn't. Which was unfair, because Helga knew perfectly well what Phoebe was thinking, so the whole thing was just annoying.

"Stop it." Helga grumbled.

Phoebe just giggled, "Stopping!" She announced cheerfully, wiggling so her hoodie sleeves fell over her hands.

"Stop what?" A girl flopped to Helga's left, on her belly. "I need to stop eating so many s'mores, that's for sure." She looked up at Helga, "Oooh- a new face!" She rolled over, and stuck her hand out for a shake. "I'm Lila. It's ever-so nice to meet you!"

Helga was too exhausted for this girl. "Helga," she shook her hand. "Likewise." She couldn't help it, she yawned. "God, sorry. I'm just a bit tired."

Phoebe chimed in on Helga's side. "It's her first year."

Helga waited for that knowing smile she hated so much to grace Lila's face, but it never came. She just grinned. "Well, we're happy to have you aboard!" Her eye flicked up to her hairline. "You guys don't think there are bugs in my hair, do you?" Her long hair, it was hard to see what color it was exactly in the dim light of the fire, was splayed out on the grass.

Helga didn't want to even think about the bugs, she smacked like, six thousand of them already- so she was grateful when the boys appeared in the light, lugging coolers of hot dogs and hamburgers to be cooked on the fire. She really wanted Phoebe or Lila to move so Arnold would sit with her, but that was kind of reminding her of her last fits of her Dean-related, or her ex-boyfriend related, crazy, so she said nothing.

She was trying, honestly trying, to reign in the crazy with these people. She had a shot here, a real shot, to be whoever she wanted to be with them. Make them know her as she wanted to be known. Show them the real her.

If only she knew who that was.

After eating, she found that everyone split off into smatterings of people, some already hiking it back to cabins, some heading over to the pool for a late night swim. She sat in a square, Gerald and Phoebe, seemingly one unit on her left, Lila across from them, and next to her this kind of gawky kid named Eugene, who told her he was the same age as the rest of them, Helga just kind of didn't believe him.

They were telling her horror stories of newbies past, and Helga was trying to make a mental list of all the do-nots they were unintentionally dropping to her.

Phoebe yawned widely, stretching her arms above her head, Gerald's large hands on her ribs. "I'm gonna get up early tomorrow and do some yoga," She said decidedly. "I'm a little out of shape." She admitted slyly. She wasn't showing it, slender physique obvious even in baggy clothes. "Do you want to come, Lila?"

Lila nodded, running a hand through her long hair. She leaned her head on Eugene's shoulder. Helga wondered how late it was.

"Helga?"

Helga blanched, she didn't mean to show her distaste, but early morning yoga? It sounded…terrible.

"That's fine," Phoebe laughed, standing up, out of Gerald's lap. She stretched again. "I'm headed up, do you want to come, Gerald?" He stood up too, leaning down to press a kiss into her temple.

"I'm actually gonna go meet the guys by the pool, just makin' sure nobodies drowned nobody." He scrubbed a hair into her hair line, messing up her bun. She didn't seem to mind. They were an almost nauseatingly sweet couple.

"Helga?" Phoebe asked again, repeating her tone of voice.

"I think I'll stay down here for a little while longer." Helga answered, despite being frankly exhausted. Fear of missing out, or FOMO, as the kids called it, was going to kill her one day.

"Headed up?" Arnold called out, appearing by Phoebe's shoulder. Helga was going to have to get used to how suddenly people appeared when they were only lit by a fire, that was dimming, at best.

"Just me," Phoebe shrugged. Arnold yawned.

"Me too," he mumbled as he came out of it. He dragged a palm across his eyes, rubbing into them. "I have to be up tomorrow to run over the game plan with Coach. His eyes landed on Helga, furrowing with concern. "Are you sure you don't want to walk up with us, I don't want you getting lo-"

"I got her man," Gerald intercepted, "we'll go up together."

"Excuse me," Helga felt oddly exposed, sitting on the ground while her three temporary roommates discussed her. "I got me, it's not that far of a walk, I can figure it out." She bit harshly.

Arnold just grinned at her. "Whatever you say, Helga." He turned to Phoebe, crouching down, "Want a ride?"

Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief, hopping on to his back. He lifted her up like she weighed nothing, and she probably didn't to him, his backpack probably weighed more than she did. "Thank God, I was hoping you'd ask." With her arms looped around his neck, he took up a stride up the hill. Helga felt a little burn in her chest, jealous creeping up on her unattractively. She looked up at Gerald, who just smiled at them as Arnold carried her up the hill, looking not at all like a man who cared that his best friend and his girlfriend went off into the wilderness together.

Camp people were weird.

It had been maybe another half hour later, but Helga felt like it had been a lifetime. She didn't even know what they had said, what had started it, but Lila had left with her friend's, back to their cabin, and so she and Eugene were the only people left sitting at the campfire, but she was enthralled by their conversation.

There were those conversations you had with people, where you knew when you were having them you'd always remember them.

That was just the thing about talking, really talking and listening to people.

You'd never remember exactly what they said, or how they'd said it.

You'd remember how they made you feel.

Even though everyone had pushed her all day to make her feel involved, giving her clothes, doing her hair, checking up on her; Eugene expressed loneliness in his life to her, and that was the thing that made her feel the least alone all day.

"Sometimes-" Helga said quietly, leaning in towards him. His hair, ginger and curly, flopped into his eyes a little. He was wearing shorts that were slightly too short for normal boy's use, and a vneck, with a button up layered over it, buttoned only once in the middle. He had the sleeves rolled up, and sunglasses failing to hold his hair back on his head. "Sometimes, I feel like everyone else is just floating on the same river, like they know where they're going or what to say or whatever, and I'm like, there, but I'm on a rock in the middle of it, stuck in the middle, interrupting the flow," She tugged at the end of her hair. "And it's just so frustrating- because I want to be like everyone else, and like, get along with everyone and always be happy and nice, and I'm just not and that's the worst part of it, it's that I want it so badly."

"Always out of sync." Eugene nodded, like he understood what she was saying, and it felt like fresh breeze on her soul, "like, can I tell you something?'

"Of course."

"I'm," He shifted forward, "I'm gay, okay?"

She blinked at him, and suddenly remembered how close they were to the amish country of Pennsylvania. "Okay?"

"Okay." He stared at her, waiting for a reaction. She didn't know what to say, so she just raised her eyebrows.

"…cool?"

"Cool." He nodded, and then he giggled. "Oh my god, you have no idea how good it is to say that."

"You haven't told anyone?"

"No! God, no, please don't either." He panicked.

"Oh, I would never," she swore, grabbing his hand. "But you should. Times are changing: look how good it felt just to tell me, some chick you met 12 hours ago."

"Yeah-" He nodded, "Anyway, that had a point to it, it wasn't just the random confession of the day. Like you said, I always feel out of touch with what everyone just seems to instinctually know. I always thought it was the," He dropped his voice, "the gay thing, but I don't know. He looked back over his shoulder, even though Helga knew there was no one there. These were really the kind of conversations that only happened in the middle of the night. "I've known everyone here, like, my whole life. They all just seem to…know who they are? So clearly? I don't know how they do it. Just… knowing someone out there feels the same as I do is," He tightened his hold on her hand. "Such a relief."

"We're awkward together," She agreed, adding another hand on his, "In it together."

"I can handle that," He nodded.

She launched into her own story, about Olga and her parents, about never being in a place that pushed togetherness on her so hard, so fast. About Dean, and the break up. Her eyes were welling up, he held her hand tightly as she spoke.

"And I was standing there, staring at him, staring at me like, god, who are you?" She rubbed the flannel, Arnold's flannel, on her eyes. "And then he said it, and I didn't know what to say and so I told him, I just flat out said 'I love you,' and god, isn't that pathetic? Being asked who you are and your only answer is who you love? And we had never come close to saying shit like that and he just recoils like I'm disgusting or something and then he-"

"Hey, Pataki!" Gerald seemed to be remarkably good at having remarkably bad timing. "Are you ready, if Arnold comes over the walkie one more time askin' about you I'm gonna have to shove it down his throat when we get up there."

She rolled her eyes- god Arnold was so annoying. She and Eugene laughed watery laughs, she rubbed at her eyes with his shirt again. "Yeah, yeah I can head up. Give us a minute."

"That's fine," she heard Gerald grumble "I gotta find my fuckin' shoes anyway- shit."

She stood up, and Eugene was hugging her, and so apparently at least he was on board with the touching thing that everyone else was.

"Are you sure," he asked lowly, and Helga realized then that he was only about her height, if not a little shorter than she was. She laughed on the inside, she could tell you his entire back story, but not his height, "that getting…involved with someone is in your best interests right now?"

It was the first time someone made an implication about her and Arnold that hadn't annoyed her. "No," her eyes were still watery, "I'm not at all sure," She laughed, rubbing at them. "In fact, I'm pretty sure all my senses are screaming to not do that." She brushed her stray hairs back from her face. "But," She decided to playfully feign innocence, tossing her braids back, "I don't know what you're talking about. Surely you're not talking about Arnold, he's annoying."

Eugene made a face at her, like he didn't believe her one big. "Right." He said, through narrowed eyes. "Sure."

"Find your shoes?" She yelled at Gerald.

"No! Help a brotha' out & grab a flashlight, please?"

She slipped into the dark cabin behind Gerald, flashlight in his hand illuminating their path. Arnold looked up at them, book in hand, flashlight in the other, with his long legs stretched out over his bed.

"It's late." He said quietly, over Phoebe's soft snores.

"Sorry dad," Helga growled playfully.

Gerald let out a muffled snicker, already tugging his shirt off over his head. "Did we break curfew?" Helga heard him fiddling with his buckle, dropping the flashlight on his bed. "God, I'm tired, I can't wait for bed."

"Me too," Helga stretched, groaning at her already sore muscles.

"Too bad you have one to make," Gerald reminded her, and her mind flashed back to what felt like a life time ago, this morning and the rain.

"Oh my god," she didn't know if it was all the sugar she had consumed that night, or the high she was still coming off of from baring her soul, but she was somehow braver than she normally was, and she flopped on to Arnold's bed, and more specifically, his legs. They were touchy people anyway. "I forgot." She moaned.

She felt Arnold's hand, large, soothing over her hair. "It's a good thing I made it for you, then."

Helga knew, in her heart of hearts, that she wasn't a fundamentally rational person. She made her decisions quickly, impulsively, and she had very little real control over her emotions.

Rational people didn't fall in love with someone in one day.

When she sunk into the carefully tucked in, wonderfully dry, sheets, she doubted that she missed that rationality at all.

She vaguely remembered, as she blinked blearily in the daylight, that the small hand on her shoulder was one of three that were on her that morning, however this time, this hand was the most persistent.

"Helga." Her shoulder was shaking against her will. "Helga," It was definitely Phoebe this time. "You gotta get up. You'll miss breakfast."

"I don't need it."

"You do-" Gerald's voice floated over from inside the bathroom. "If we don't have your ass down to the hall in ten minutes, Arnold will come back and carry it down, so get moving."

Helga sat forward, wiggling out of Phoebe's grip. "Alright, I'm up, I'm up- Jesus, what is with that kid's superhero complex?"

"I've been askin' myself that since age four." Gerald making a spitting noise. "Still no answers. Get dressed, we're leaving in five."

"Your braids still look good," Phoebe assess, brushing down Helga's baby hairs so they laid attractively on her face. "They'll do." She stretched up high, Helga noticed her shirt rode up on her stomach- another blue tshirt and leggings was her outfit of the day. She enjoyed the consistency. Helga rubbed at her eye, tossing her bedsheets by her side.

"I am…" she itched her nose "so tired."

"You know what always helps me with that?" Phoebe said sympathetically, running a hand through her own hair- which Helga just realized she was brushing with her other hand. "Pants. Pants do, let's find you some. Some that aren't Arnold's."
Helga groaned, but she stood up, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.

It was seven am on a summer's day, an ungodly hour, where the only people up and at it were witches, people walking home from a way better night than everyone else, and people who were motivated by espresso and money and little else.

Also, apparently, camp counselors.

Unless camp counseling was going to turn Helga into a witch and no one had told her yet.

If so- sweet. She couldn't wait.

Because apparently everyone else was one- the schedule had been posted on the front of the porch, of who was setting the tables that week for what meal, so everyone had a turn to set and clear, breakfast was served at 7:30. She sat smushed on the couch in the rec room next door- complete with a ping pong table, and a few tables and chairs, where they had had all their meetings thus far. She was nestled in between Lila and a kid who's name she couldn't even remember, watching Gerald, who was leaning on the ping pong table despite the two people behind him actually playing ping-pong. He was talking about something with passion- probably something camp related, she wasn't actually listening. She burrowed further into the sweatshirt she was wearing- Gerald's sweatshirt actually. It was black with a blue howling wolf on the front. She didn't know why- she hadn't asked. She saw the hoodie on Phoebe's bed and asked to borrow it, and she hadn't realized until she slid it on and the sleeves fell past her hands that it was Gerald's.

She yawned again, scanning the room for new things to observe. Her eyes fell on Eugene, who was sitting in a chair by a table. Rhonda, the girl with the shiny black hair who hadn't let Helga into her cabin, was sitting on it, having her hair braided by Nadine, who was on her knees on the table behind her. Rhonda was gesturing as she talked, Helga could almost hear her voice from across the room. She smiled at Eugene when he looked up at her, and he waved in a small way at her. On his left was a boy Helga knew she had been introduced to yesterday, but his name was slipping her mind completely.

Too many names, too little time.

She was relieved, and still yawning, when Arnold's still slightly golden, to her, face walking around the corning, grinning like it was a reasonable time to be awake. He did an outstandingly boyish handshake with someone who was leaning up against the wall by the door. Then he loudly rapped his knuckles on the wood by their head, capturing the room's attention.

He already had Helga's, but she was glad she now had an excuse for it.

Arnold had a solemn look on his face as the room quieted. "Breakfast." He grinned at them, and the room jumped up, people walking cheerily past him and down the hall to his right. The line was lead by whomever he did the handshake with. He leaned on the wall, crossing his arms, watching the people filtering through.

Gerald and Helga brought up the end of the line, Gerald in front. As Gerald passed Arnold he held out his hand for their bizarre wiggly-hand handshake, and then continued down the hall. Helga didn't look at Arnold as she passed him, collecting a cool composure. That disappeared as he stepped in place beside her, wrapping a warm arm over her shoulder. He rubbed his hand on her. That wasn't something Dean did- the rubbing thing. He always just put his arm on her and left it hanging there, never seeming anything about nonchalant about it.

"Morning sunshine," he jostled her in towards him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Just peachy." She grumbled, secretly pleased at the close contact.

God, she was pathetic, she thought.

"Well," his arm hooked then, drawing her closer, leaving his forearm dangling across the front of her. "Peaches are excellent foods."

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I've ever actually eaten a peach."

"That's a crime," he admonished, grin hiding under a fake-insulted look. "A crime against yourself and humanity."

"You'll see…" she grasped into thin air for a cutesy nickname to call him, "Arnoldo," She cringed on the inside, not her best work, "I am not the peach kind of girl." She shoved her hands into the pockets of the sweatshirt she had on.

They were walking into the main hall then, creating not so much a spectacle of themselves, more like…

Helga had to call it as she saw it, a spectacle.

They strode in last, Arnold hooked close to Helga, talking quietly. Most people were already shifting in seats, and Helga felt more than one curious set of eyes on them.

One of them just so happened to be Eugene's.

"Helga, babe!" He grabbed her sleeve as they began to walk by. "Saved you a seat!"

She hated herself for it, but she first looked to Arnold, who's eyes were rumpled slightly in confusion. His eyes shifted from Eugene to the front of the room, where Gerald, Phoebe and a few other people who's names Helga couldn't remember at the moment were sitting- with two vacant seats.

She looked back to Eugene.

"Uh- thanks-"

She looked back to Arnold, and the furrowed eyebrow was gone, replaced with a beaming smile. Helga wondered if it was just her, or if it seemed less heartfelt than it normally did.

"I'll catch you after!" Arnold let her go, "Eugene, it's so good to see you, man, we gotta catch up later!" Arnold slapped a hand on Eugene's back in a somewhat manly way. Helga noticed Eugene smiled, but winced at the force of the smack. Helga couldn't help it- she grinned.

Arnold was walking backwards towards the other table, a few steps away, and Helga could tell his eyes were on her, so she looked up to meet them.

"Cute sweatshirt," He cocked his head to the side, eyes squinted at her, because he knew exactly who's sweatshirt she had on.

"Thanks!" She thanked him like she didn't, sitting down at the table.

There was a bowl of straws on the table in the center- Helga learned yesterday that they drew straws for who was serving, going to get the food, and refills, to avoid major traffic and collision. Her straw wasn't shortest, so she sunk into a somewhat fake conversation with the girl on her other side about her hometown.

She knew Eugene was looking at her, she just didn't know why.

"Hey Coach-" She could hear Gerald's voice, even from across the room, "Weren't we gettin' assignments last night? Whaddup?"

Coach, as Helga was beginning to call her in her mind, was in the same "uniform" she was in yesterday- sitting with a table of a few adults at the table next to Arnold's. She sighed, and looked at Arnold, who began to fill Gerald in on something that made him frown.

Helga looked back to her plate, and then grabbed a banana from the bowl in the middle, ready to stop creepily staring at them.

She hadn't been the only one staring, because Rhonda spoke up next.

Rhonda spoke up differently than Gerald had. Gerald had spoken loudly because Coach was a little far away, and his voice was just kind of loud out of nature.

Rhonda spoke loudly because she wanted people to hear her. Her braid was complicated, like something out of the hunger games, and Helga could swear she at least had mascara on.

"Yeah- seriously, one night in cabins is enough, thank you." The girls around her giggled. The girl next to Helga rolled her eyes. Helga wished she knew her name.

"Who's gonna tell her we spend the summer in cabins?"

"No one." Eugene answered, biting into an apple, leaning forward on his elbows to look at her across Helga.

"What?"

"Rhonda is the Junior Administrative Equestrian Assistant." He spoke lowly, even though he didn't need to in the loud mess hall. "Translation: she does the fancy horse camps, with Nancy-" He pointed at a woman at Coach's table, older but beautifully aged, hair down and long, "camps that stay in Bethany Row the whole time."

"Oh." The girl huffed, "That hardly seems fair."

Eugene shrugged. "You couldn't pay me enough a-c to go near those death traps." He bit into his apple again. "It's all a cycle, and it turns out fair in the end, in my opinion. A lot of the adults stay in Bethany Row, but they're older, you know? They've served their cabin time. And not everyone likes it, too. It puts you way far away from the cabins, and therefore, pretty far from the after lights out campfire. Arnold almost lost his mind last year when he spent all of July on Nature lodge duty."

"Nature lodge duty?"

"Nature lodge duty." A girl on Eugene's right joined in, she was tall with long brown hair. "Arnold's good with leaves- and dirt and animals and things of that nature."

"Hah-" Eugene snorted. "Nature."

Helga stared at him.

"It's like a pun…nature of that nature… it's funny."

Helga continued to just stare at him.

"…anyway," The girl continued, "if you're at one station all day, the Nature Lodge, the crafting house, even life-guarding," she ruffled her nose a little, "you stay in Bethany Row at night. Arnold's got scientist parents, and more adventures than you could count, and he's good at keeping the kids engaged, so he got stuck in Nature Lodge for like, all of July last year."

"I think Nadine wants it this year." Eugene commented, looking over his shoulder at the girl who was sitting next to Rhonda.

"I think she just wants to escape Rhonda." Eugene's friend commented.

"Who wouldn't." The girl next to Helga added, and Helga had to chuckle.

"Alright guys-" Coach stood up to speak while the clearers busied themselves collecting trays, dishwashers had already made it to the back sinks. "We're having some…" She made eye contact with someone at their table, "Technical issues, so we're hoping to have assignments for next week tonight. Stay tuned, we're not sure yet. As of right now, we're gonna break for a moment and meet back in the clear for some leadership games. After that we're gonna do basic water safety training and CPR by the pool, so get changed appropriately. I hope you have all reviewed this years dress code." A few of the girls groaned. Helga hoped she had looked at it closely enough. "We'll probably break for showers and lunch, then review pool-house conduct. I'm sorry guys, but as of right now, it looks like we will not have an attendant this year." The room groaned, and Helga didn't know exactly what that meant for them, but it probably wasn't something to look forward to. "We'll finish off the day by the boats, and hopefully do some assignments at dinner tonight." She made eye contact with someone again, "Hopefully. We do have some phone calls to make out of Bethany Row today, guys, so we're sorry if there's downtime. We're trying our best to sort everything out."

Helga looked to Arnold, who's face was solemn, like he already knew everything that was being said, but still worried. Helga wondered exactly what issues they were up against.

"You're dismissed, let's call it-" She checked her watch, wrinkling her nose up at the time, "eh, let's call it 9 o clock, on the dot, in the clearance, please."
She was speed-walking, it was shameless, in an attempt to catch up with Arnold and Phoebe and Gerald as everyone cleared out of the mess hall, heading for respective cabins. There were hands on her shoulders that stopped her, and she halted, turning around to see Eugene.

She had a really strong affection for him, she did, but this irrational irritability began to build up, that he kept being the fence post in between her and Arnold.

She then mentally slapped herself, because that was sounding like her fits of Dean-crazy, which were exactly the thing she asked Eugene to help her avoid not twelve hours ago.

Her fondness for him resurged.

He was pulling her around the back of the building, and the first words out of his mouth were…astounding, to say the least.

"Date me."

"Uh," She leaned against the wooden building, crossing her arms across her chest- "i mean, I get it, I know I'm all that and a bag of chips- but weren't you crying all over me about being homo as fuck, like, 10 hours ago?"

"Okay, there were no tears," He countered, "and yes, yes I was- but here's the thing. Wolfgang, for some reason, didn't come back this year-"

"Who the fuck is Wolf-"

"They just asked me if I'd be okay to do Sports Mania, with Harold. Harold, Helga, who already harassed me last night about tits. Tits, Helga..god-"

"Whoa, whoa." Helga paused the conversation, holding a hand out. "If someone is harassing you, Eugene, I can end it-"

"No!" He held his hands out in a panic, "God, no. Harold is…" he looked off to the side as if the tubby kid would magically appear, "Harold. Honestly, harmless. Just a…lunk. And I am," He sighed. "I am not ready to deal with it yet, Helga. With any of them yet. I know, it's asking a lot. But please, do this for me. Give me some time, help me get them off my back with the tit questions. It's…" he looked more tired than Helga could imagine him looking. "too much, for me."

Helga thought it over- thought about Arnold, who was already getting to her a little more than she'd like. She'd have a solid reason to stay away- to not get in too deep too fast. Really, it suited her too.

"Fine," She looked up, nodding solemnly. Eugene had no height on her at all, they were strictly evenly matched. "You got yourself a girlfriend. Wanna kiss to seal the deal?"

"Absolutely not."

Air-conditioning was almost foreign to her by the time she stepped into Beverly Row that night. The air brushed her cheek and a shiver rushed down her spine. She untied Gerald's sweatshirt from around her waist, sliding it over head quickly.

"Are you kidding?" Gerald joked from behind her, he looped around the crowd to catch up. She hadn't seen much of Gerald or Arnold all day. Whatever the ProblemTM was that was plaguing the camp, it seemed like they had been dealing with it instead attending training. Helga, as it turned out, really did like Nadine, and Eugene and Sheena. It wasn't as if she hadn't noticed their absence, but she didn't miss them as much as she thought she would. "It's like 90 degrees out, how are you cold, Pataki?" He wrapped an arm around her, rubbing at her shoulder.

She wanted to say something snarky- but after nearly a full day in and by the water, and a ton of information to take in, she was just beat. She shrugged instead, feeling his hand rise and fall with her shoulder. He grinned down at her, jostling her in towards him.

"Hey Coach-" He called across the room. "We still movin' in tonight?"

Coach looked more tired than Helga had seen her so far- looking up slowly at him and blinking. "Uh-" She looked down and back up. She shook her head a little as she spoke. "We'll go over it tonight."

"hey-" Gerald drawled out, dragging Helga with him as he moved to the side, "it's my other girl!" Helga leaned over to see Phoebe on his other side, he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. "How was your day, baby?"

She relaxed into him much more easily than Helga did. "Good! I'm ready for bed, though." She yawned into her palm. "I'm curious to hear Coach's answer to your question. Where's Arnold?"

"He's in my office-" Coach answered for him, approaching their group. "Would you go grab him, Gerald? If he's not with company?"
Gerald let go of Phoebe to do a salute. "Yes Ma'am!" He wrapped his arm around her again, then pulled both of them into his chest tightly. Helga squirmed a little, but admittedly- it was with delight. He kissed Phoebe's head and then Helga's, before turning with a flourish and marching out with pride. Gerald was an interesting character- if anyone from Helga's hometown tried half the shit he did she would roll her eyes so hard they might sink back into her head. He managed all he did with a small enhanced swagger which just made it work for him.

Eugene waved her and Phoebe over- already seated on the couch of the lounge. She cocked a hip into Phoebe's, "if I sit on the floor will you braid my hair?" There was really only one spot on the couch left anyway- and Helga's hair was now in a bun on top of her head. "I feel so gross." It was crunchy with chlorine and tangled up. Phoebe beamed at her and nodded.

Helga sat in between Phoebe and Eugene's legs on the floor. Eugene leaned down to kiss the top of her cheek bone as she sat. Helga winked at him.

She had never had a fake boyfriend before.

She had only had one boyfriend before.

It was weird to her, the idea of a small-gestures kind of guy, and her. Not that the Eugene relationship was legitimate, but it was stirring to her all the same. Dean wasn't one for PDA unless it was aggressive and drunken and in an really funky smelling alley past an hour anyone decent was awake.

She had lived a small life inside of Dean and the options he gave her. In 22 years he had had six of them in clutch of his fist. Living outside of the fist almost scared Helga, believe it or not.

She felt Phoebe's fingers on her scalp, soothing in a way she probably didn't even know, or maybe she did, and that's why she so gently untied Helga's hair from the top of her head.

The wooden door in the back of the room swung open and Arnold and Gerald strolled in, clapping hands with some of the boys, ruffling some of the girl's hair. It was true- what Helga had thought a little over 32 hours ago- nothing really happened without Arnold and Gerald, as far as she could tell. And she had missed them during the day, truly. They made her feel like part of the "in" crowd…probably because that's what they were.

"Hey-" Phoebe warned as she saw the two making a beeline for their part on the couch. Gerald scooped her up anyway, one hand under her knees, one on her waist. He took her seat gracefully, and plopping her back down on his lap- and half on Eugene's. She grumbled, but Gerald was laughing so everyone else was, too. Arnold plopped good-naturedly, and a lot less showily, on the floor next to Helga.

"That's a good look for you," he commented, in his own brand of quiet sarcasm, brushing the hair out of Helga's face that Phoebe had accidentally thrown while getting scooped up. "Brings out the eyes."

"Thanks Arnoldo." She dead-panned back, pushing her fingers through it while batting his away with her other hand. "Thinkin' about trademarkin' it."

"I can't braid her hair like this, Gerald," Phoebe whined, wiggling around.

"I got her-" Arnold took the cap off his head, light blue and ever so slightly too large for Helga's head, and plopped it on her with a grin. "Perfect."

Arnold's company forced her to the right a little more- so she settled in between Eugene's legs. She tilted her head back on the couch cushion to look up at him with a smile, the brim of the hat almost falling off her head. He just grinned at her and leaned down to kiss her forehead, before straightening the cap on her head.

"Are you all done now-" Coach asked tiredly. They nodded. "Comfy?" They nodded again.

Helga leaned her head to the right, leaning it on Eugene's knee with a small contented smile.

She could be a good fake girlfriend, goddamnit. She let one leg, her left, out of the criss-cross hold she had them in, and splayed it out to her left. Arnold put a hand on her ankle, running a thumb back and forth on her ankle bone.

She could try and be a good fake girlfriend, goddamnit.

"I have bad news, guys-" Coach leaned back on a table at the head of the room, not fully sitting on it, but half way there. "We tried to avoid it, but…"

She seemed to be making eye contact with Arnold. Helga could have sworn she felt him shrug.

"It is what it is." She finished her sentence. "We are going to have to renew the junior counselor program this year."

Most of the room let out a collective groan. Helga leaned forward, she didn't know what that meant for her.

"For those of y'all who don't know-" Gerald announced loudly, almost sensing her confusion, "That means we get to add babysitting, on to our babysitting."

"Gerald," Coach warned.

"What?" He demanded, "tell me it ain't true?"

"For those of you who don't know-" Coach restated his sentence firmly "the junior counselor program is a program where we invite counselors in training to work here- only during camp hours, they'll leave with the day campers at three. They're aged 14-18, and really eager to learn about camp- which is why they are promised at least two days a week working with a camp- not just kitchen or lifeguard or lake duty."

"Wasn't it one last time?" Gerald interrupted.

Coach sighed "no, Gerald- it's always been two."

"Can't we make it one this time?"

"Gerald," It was Arnold this time who chastised him, "Chill." He reached behind himself to pat a hand on Gerald's knee- hard to reach because Phoebe took up most of it, but Arnold managed. "It'll be fine guys-" He pat Helga's ankle one more time, before pushing his hand up off the ground to stand up. "It may be a little more work for us- because we do need to be leaders for these guys, show them what a good counselor looks like. But that won't be too hard- because you all already do it. And what Coach won't tell you-" Coach was giving him a mild warning look, but Arnold continued anyway "but I will- is that there's no way around it- we're just understaffed. Our camps are filled, but we only fill three quarters of Beverly Row- we'd be stretched too thin trying to make it ourselves. We need help," He sat on the table by Coach, "so we're getting it. But do not treat them like the help."

"On that note-" Coach added. "We've had Senior Counselors out recruiting, and Arnold and Gerald in Skype interviews all day so we're looking at-"

Helga zoned out because she was still looking at Arnold, all-powerful, take-charge stance, one foot propped up on the table, nodding along with what Coach was saying.

She really aggressively wanted to make out with him.

She couldn't help it- that take-charge attitude thing, it was one of her things.
It always had been- Dean was one of those guys who just made decisions. She never minded it. But his aura of doing it was just so different. If Dean was metaphorically a drummer who made decisions for a metaphorical band about what song to play in the metaphorical heavy metal concert, Arnold was a fucking…firefighter…or something.

Firefighters were always hot.

Arnold would make a good firefighter.

She was midway through some strange quasi-political firefighter fantasy when everyone around her started to move and she realized.

"Shit," She thought, "I didn't listen to any of that."

Suddenly Eugene was grabbing her hand and she was standing and then she was moving and she thought that she just really wished she could stop thinking about Arnold in the stupid fucking yellow firefighter hat.

She stayed quiet as they walked down to the lake, trying to let someone else drop hints as to exactly what was just discussed- but hints were null as Sheena talked about this one hoe in her college class with a pet rat- and everyone was laughing and apparently no one wanted to do a casual recap of the last thirty minute lecture, because that's not what teens did. Which Helga probably knew already, but damn if it wasn't inconvenient.

Someone knocked into her shoulder on her left, i.e. the not-Eugene side of her, and she lifted her eyes from Gerald's flashlight illuminating the ground. It was Arnold, barely lit, but smiling. He didn't say a word- as Sheena was talking about how the girl demanded that the school store carry organic, g.m.o. free rat food- but he nodded down at her and Eugene's hands and raised an eyebrow at her. She looked back down at the hands, and back up and him, and she shrugged.

On the inside: she panicked.

Like, fuck, what a poorly thought out plan. When did this happen? What was the story? Did he just kiss her the first night and boom that was that? Or was it…a pre-camp thing? What a conspiracy- she could use it as a cover for coming to camp in the first place! She could say they met at a ski lodge in Toronto- and it was new years eve, and everyone was doing karaoke and they got randomly picked out of the crowd, so-

Shit. Wait, no. That was just the plot of High School Musical.

Damnit.

One of the new girls, whom she had sat with at breakfast that morning, brought a guitar, and could actually play really well. Gerald swore when he saw it.

"Damn!" He grabbed it from her hand, "I wanted to be the one with the guitar."

"Gerald you can't play the guitar." Phoebe reminded him.

"Every single year when we leave you say you're gonna learn enough guitar to play next year. And you never do." Arnold added, as he threw some wood on to the bonfire.

"Okay, but I was gonna-"

"But you didn't," Sid added.

"But I was GONNA-"

"Gerald, sit down and hand the poor girl back her guitar." Rhonda commanded, shaking her hair out of the braid, letting waves fall over her face. Helga suddenly became all-too aware she was still wearing Arnold's baseball cap. She shifted the brim to the back of her head, and fiddled with her now-stringy hair self consciously.

It wasn't that Helga didn't like the sound of the guitar- or being with the people, but she found all the kumbaya-shit just the smallest bit exhausting. She was amongst the first to volunteer to head back up- and that had nothing to do with the face Arnold was going too, nothing at all.

"So," He said to her, once they had veered off from the path that the other people were walking- they toke the long route back to conceal their awesome cabins from the rest as they had the first day. "You and Eugene, huh?"

"Yup." She popped the p' for some reason, shoving her hands in the pocket of Gerald's hoodie. She could feel him looking at her face, which was honestly a recipe for disaster- consider there were many sticks and their path was only illuminated by a flashlight.

"Huh." He mused, gaze still on her face. "I wouldn't think he's your type."

"And what makes you assume that?" She bit back fiercely. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"I-" He started, but then he let a soft, lackadaisical, grin fall on his face. "Nothing."

It was quiet, except for the sound of the wind brushing through the trees, birds in the distance and the crunching of leaves under their heels, when she blurted it out. She didn't know why she said it, but she did.

Actually, she did know why.

It was that his soft bemusement of the whole thing was simultaneously really fucking annoying and really fucking attractive and so it was either, get him to believe the story a little more or, give up on it and kiss him and Helga knew neither of those were wise moves to make but she never claimed to be wise.

"We met online." She said, more quickly than she would have liked. He looked over at her.

"Really?"

"Yeah." She added fastly, stumbling over a twig because she was too busy looking at Arnold to look at her own damn feet. "He told me about this place."
"So you came, all the way out here? For him?" He asked gently, not with disbelief, but with somewhat admiration.

"Well-" She backtracked, "I was running out of options anyway. And we said if we ever were in the same place, we'd give it a try. So here we are, in the same place. And here we are, giving it a try."

"Why were you running out of options?" He questioned softly, concern falling over his face the way his dumb blonde hair was. Helga winced.

That was not what she wanted him to get out of that sentence.

"I, uh-"

Well that was a stalemate.

She couldn't mention Dean, after mentioning Eugene as her weird sort of online lover, that just made her seem like a hoe. And she really, really did not want to say she's never had a steady job, or gone to college, and really just didn't have any plans at all that went beyond Dean- because she wasn't mentioning Dean.

Also…it was pathetic. She knew that.

Also, the family-thing and the alcoholism-thing and the neglected childhood-thing all seemed like something you wait at least 48 hours to unload on to someone, not that Arnold didn't look willing to listen.

"I- I never started with a lot to begin with," She finished vaguely. "And I never really thought to look for some, because there was this-" Dean. That was what she was going to talk about, and didn't want to talk about, Dean. Red flag, Helga, red flag.

She sighed because she didn't know how to finish that sentence.

"Sometimes life sucks, Arnold." She finished.

She looked back at the ground, quick enough to see his hand twitch towards her, and then he shoved it into his pocket. It just made her want to scream.

"Touch me!" She thought loudly at him, glancing up at his face, which was now focused on the ground. She knew he did it out of respect for Eugene, and the newness of their fake relationship and she fucking hated him for it, respectful-ass bitch.

"I'm wearing these-" She called out the next morning, while the door was open to their cabin so Phoebe could stretch and be in on the conversation, Gerald was in the shower, and Arnold was attempting to fold the fitted sheets. She was holding a pair of blue sofe shorts with grey stripes on the side. She was going to wear them with her white baseball t-shirt with black sleeves. She was hoping to pull off that look of sporty-comfy-casual.

"They're mine, but they're yours," Phoebe called to her, and Helga laughed, adding it with the shirt to the I'm-Gonna-Wear-This-Don't-Pack-It pile. They had only lived there for two days, but their stuff had already morphed into a random assortments of piles with miss-matched who's was who's, so the main goal was to get everything into somebody's bag. Gerald and Arnold weren't allowed to abuse their power and say, but it was assumed it was pretty much on lock that they'd be assigned at least to camps as pairs, Gerald and Arnold & Phoebe and Helga. And that they'd be on at least the same floor. So they weren't so much concerned who's bag had what, as long as everything was in a bag of some sort. From the looks of Arnold wrestling with bedding, it looked like they were just gonna shove all of the sheets into his bag- maybe comforters too, if it would fit.

"I mean-" Helga was sorting through sunscreen, "I had assumed they were Football Head's over here, but good to know." She joked.

Arnold gave her a flat look, and she heard Gerald give a shout of laughter from inside the shower.

She couldn't lie- she was secretly delighted when Arnold and Gerald picked up two bags each and she and Phoebe each carried two pillows. It wasn't something she could get used to, persay, because they wouldn't always be there to lug her shit from point a to point b, so she was going to fully enjoy it while it lasted.

Eugene, to his credit- was good at not being too flamboyant. If she squinted, she could see it, but over all he just came off as a sensitive guy, she thought, as he sat on the rail of the porch, one foot on the railing, an arm wrapped around it, listening to Sid talk about something or other.

"There they are, our resident rule breakers." Rhonda commented boldly at their foursome. She had big sunglasses on her face, but a smugger smile. Helga didn't let her eyes meet hers. They dumped their bags amongst the rest, Gerald stretching for the sky.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arnold replied solemnly. Phoebe just grinned. Helga strolled up to Eugene, and leaned against the rail where he was sitting.

"Morning," he beamed at her.

"DID WE GET ASSIGNMENTS YET?" Harold grumbled, laying face down, taking up an entire bench on the porch. Rhonda rolled her eyes from her sun chair. She was stretched out across it, Lila sat on part of it, rubbing sunscreen on her shoulders.

"No, Harold." Phoebe answered kindly.

"WHY AM I AWAKE THEN."

"Truly-" Stinky was talking, leaned up against the wall of the mess hall, arms crossed in front of him. "I do not know how this boy manages to pull up to this here camp every summer and complain about it every summer."

Coach read out assignments during breakfast. Helga had no idea where to sit, the tables fluctuated daily, they weren't a set thing. She was in between Sid, whom made her laugh on several occasions, she was surprised by it, and Eugene. Sid was a mere two or so inches taller than she, and had ridiculous hair, hanging all the way down to his chin. He wore, almost exclusively, a white t-shirt and jean shorts that cuffed off right above his knee. Eugene had told her that- and so far it was proving true. He had a few bracelets collected on one wrist, including a tattered leather strand just looped around several times and tied up. He seemed familiar to her, like the kind of person she and Dean probably would have hung out with- summer camp or not. He was almost always accompanied by Stinky- who was tall in a way that wasn't particularly attractive because he didn't move in a way that showed he owned it. His hair was cut awkwardly short, like his mom had cut it before he left, and he wore a long sleeve emerald green camp shirt three days in a row, rolled up to his elbow. He had sunglasses on top of his head, pushing the hair back, almost covering the haircut. Almost.

Arnold, Phoebe and Gerald, regretfully, sat two tables away, with some of the new people, trying to be their own brand of welcome wagon. The table included blonde Megan with the guitar- Helga could see them being friends.

Helga was surprised at how many people in the room she could picture being at least sociable with.

She wasn't sure if that was the fresh or good ol' plain camp magic.

Sid was whispering something about cabin 19 being haunted when she heard her own name and looked up with a start. Of course, she hadn't been paying enough attention to actually hear her assignment.

"Again," Coach said, raising an eyebrow at Sid and Helga, who's ears both perked up, because they weren't paying very much attention. "Sid, Stinky, Phoebe, Helga: Adventure Kids, Precinct One."

"Fuck. Yes." Sid whispered to her with delight, holding out his hand slyly for a low-five.

Helga low-fived him.

She low-fived him with vigor.

Day three had come and gone- it was almost 6:30 on Friday morning. Yesterday had passed by with such speed that Helga doubted she'd ever be able to remember exactly everything they did. She was sitting with her knees tucked up to her chest on her bed in Beverly Row- right in the middle of the hall, with Phoebe. The room had two more beds, just not people for them. Arnold and Gerald were a full floor up from them, all the way upstairs. They moved their stuff in after breakfast the day prior, and their bodies in the evening before.

She wished she had some means of writing down whatever kind of spiritual whatever she was experiencing. She felt like her life up until now had felt like some kind of emotional retreat. Phoebe was aggressively ringing her wet hair out with a towel.

Maybe that's what summer camp, in part, was. Time with yourself and your thoughts and six thousand mosquitos.

Helga never really bottled in feelings. It wasn't what she did, not after meeting Dean. After meeting Dean at age sixteen it took one night for her to open up- and when she did, she told him everything. He never responded- not really. Looking back on it, Helga didn't even know if he properly listened. But she always talked.

And the fact that she had thrown herself into- to her knowledge, the biggest secret of Camp Igatseli that summer- and not told anyone about it, was killer.

It was the first time, in easily a week and a half, that she thought of Brianna.

It had been almost three weeks since they had spoken.

She imagined she probably should have been more torn up about losing her best friend- but she really wasn't ever Helga's best friend in the first place.

In hindsight- it should have been all too clear to her.

The times she had stayed too long listening to music with him that she said Helga just didn't get. She never wore sweats to their place- never. The dropped hints at his favorite things- the way he liked steak rare, and his beer warm- saying she preferred those things too. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't- Helga didn't actually know.

And goddamnit- all of those fights that Bri took Dean's side instead of Helga, because "you're not thinking logically, Helga, you're such a girl."

Fuck.

It was so obvious.

But, Brianna, with her curly brown hair and decently tacky nose ring, and blinding love for Helga's boyfriend, may have been the shittiest best friend alive.

She was still her best friend. And she listened to every detail of every fight- every note about Helga's thought. Helga sent her buckets of texts a day.

Phoebe, undoubtedly, unchangingly, was a better person than Bri. She just was. But, despite living together for three days- Phoebe and Helga really hadn't done any kind of opening up to each other.

She looked up at Phoebe again, so unlike Bri in her ways- quite and assuming the best of people. Phoebe would listen to her- Helga knew she would, she just could tell. She just wasn't sure how much understanding Phoebe would be able to do- which was normal. They grew up in different places.

And, besides that point, the thing she was dying to tell someone wasn't even her thing to tell.

"Can I ask you a question?" Helga fiddled with the ends of her hair so she had something to fiddle with. Phoebe looked up inquisitively, dropping her towel on an empty cot.

"Of course, Helga," She answered, blinking at her.

Helga wondered exactly how she wanted to phrase her question. "Is it really, really obvious that I was just in a really shitty relationship?"

Phoebe's eyes widened ever-so slightly. "Well, I-" She bit her lip, turning away from Helga, towards the mirror. She leaned in close, examining her lip and smoothing out a bit of chapstick that got clumped up in the corner. Somewhere in that moment Phoebe seemed to have found her courage. Maybe it was in the chapstick. "Yes."

Helga's shoulder's slumped.

"I mean-" Phoebe picked out some crust from the corner of her eyes- "I didn't know necessarily that it was a relationship-" she crumbled it between her fingers. "But…situation? In general? Yes."

Helga just rubbed a palm on her face- wearing Arnold's plaid shirt from…the first night, which seemed so far away.

When she looked up, Phoebe was staring at her.

"Let's take a walk." She said decidedly.

They were walking back behind Beverly Row- towards the horse stables and nothing else- as far as Helga's knowledge went. The forest was quieter in the morning- Helga thought so at least. Or maybe that was the silence settling between them. They walked on a rough path- fallen branches, and over grown vines. Helga almost preferred it to the neatly groomed forest paths they often frequented. Phoebe wasn't saying anything- so Helga could only imagine that she was waiting for her.

"I met him when I was sixteen."

"Jesus Christ." Phoebe whispered. Phoebe wasn't one for swearing- that was about as close as it came, as far as Helga could tell. Helga supposed it probably wasn't a good start to the story- meeting when she was sixteen.

"He was eighteen."

Phoebe didn't respond.

"I built myself…a kingdom inside of what we had together," Helga wasn't sure if she was making sense- but she went for it anyway. "I didn't have much before him anyway. That sob story is old and I'm tired of it and it was much more dramatic when it was fresh- when I told it to him. Let's just say that I quickly learned that parents often have favorites- it is easiest to tell when you're not it."

Phoebe's shoulder knocked into Helga's upper arm lightly. It was comforting.

"So I took what I had left and I…built a space for myself inside of him, or what we had- and it was the only place I ever had that was mine. But…it wasn't. It actually wasn't- in the end. You can't build a place for yourself inside of something else. When they come crashing down…"

For a moment the only sound was the crunching leaves under their feet- and the soft noises of birds awakening a few feet away.

"Your home does too."

Helga could see the horses in the distance- Nancy was already out and feeding them. Phoebe didn't say anything. She grabbed Helga's hand and intertwined their fingers.

Bri would have never done that.

Missing Dean hit her on occasion like a giant foot suddenly slammed into her chest. Someone would turn their body in just the right way or give just the right tone to a sentence and the nostalgia would roar to life on the inside. Nostalgia when you're happy is so nice- warm and fuzzy. Nostalgia when someone up and walked out on you with no dignity or note or anything that makes you feel like a human being- was having a warm and fuzzy sweater and then promptly having someone dump a bucket of water on you. She wondered for a second if that moment of helpless sadness was showing on her face, but it was interrupted.

"So-" Sid found her sitting on the rail of the porch of the mess hall during break hour that day, watching some of the counselors play ultimate frisbee on the lawn. He leaned on it, next to Helga's legs. "Tell me about yourself."

"Sorry," Helga fiddled with the hem of her shorts, "you have to be at least a friend level six to unlock the tragic back story." Wow- did he read minds, or something?

She could only do that once a day- really, it was her limit.

"Damn-" Nadine was on her right suddenly, swinging her legs over the side to sit next to Helga. "Do you know of any cheat codes?"

"Nada." Helga answered plainly, watching Gerald all but tackle this one guy who was kind of weird and they hadn't really interacted at all. He was a man of many names- Thorpe, Thad, Curly and D2Dubs- were all things she had heard him been called. She wondered what his name was. He was thin and wiry and short and over all strange.

"Camp Igatseli's current residing enigma will have to go another day unsolved," Sid leaned over Helga to say to Nadine- who giggled.

"Well, we have to have something to do-" She seemed unsteady, she tried to balance with her hands better. "Literally, on the first night Meghan and Cait were telling me their entire backstory. No fun, no mystery."

"You caught me alright-" Helga deadpanned, wishing she had something to do with her hands other than balance on the rail. "A mystery wrapped up in an enigma."

"Deep." Sid mused from her side. "I like it."

Dean sat in the back of her mind all day on Saturday- in the way he liked his hash browns nearly burnt, to his hatred of pet names. How he still owned the same socks he owned at 14 and bought a new white t-shirt every month. How she waited years for him to admit he loved her. How that didn't seem to matter anymore. She saw him almost everywhere- his smile in Curly's somewhat mischievous smile, talking about a prank of old. His jacket in the brown leather couch. How his face already showed small signs of aging- right in the bark of the trees. And something reminiscent of him lingered in how Arnold smelled, and so Helga stayed as far away from him as she could get.

Eugene somehow sensed that there was something wrong- hanging by often and lingering always, watching her face carefully.

One time she caught Arnold, face rumpled up with concern, staring at her. Like any human being she caught staring, she expected him to look away quickly. He didn't break her gaze at her, just tilted his head, as if to ask if she was okay.

Which she was- she was. There was a Dean sized hole in her chest, but she was fine.

It wasn't until right after dinner- when they had a little break time, when she was sitting in her and Phoebe's room in Bethany, she missed her home. She missed the ugly ass blanket with the cast of All-That on it that they bought as a joke in a Goodwill right before she graduated. She missed the oddly misshapen and gross-smelling arm-chair that Dean literally stole from his father without his dad even noticing. She missed the tacky live laugh love frame that Olga put up with a photo of her family in it.

She wasn't crying or anything, she just laid back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She missed that he used her shampoo- so he always kind of smelled like coconut. His blunt nails that would dig into her side at the middle of the night when he would pull her close.

She missed Dean- and damn it all if that wasn't the hardest thing to accept.

"Hey-" Lila, to her surprise, poked her head through the door. "It's campfire time, come on!"

"I think I'm gonna skip it for tonight, and stay here."

That was the part when Dean would nod, wink and tell her to text him if she changed her mind.

"Only come for a little," Lila held out her hand, "I'll make you a s'mores with a Reese's Cup!" She pronounced Reese's wrong, with a harsh ee sound- like ski. It was endearing.

"Okay," Helga sat up. "I like your shirt, by the way." It was pink and plaid, Lila had it tied up around her waist- and high waisted shorts met it there.

"Oh, here-" Lila was already untying it- showing off the camisole she had on underneath it, "wear it!" She tossed it at Helga.

Helga would have protested- but she had already learned that got her no where. She put it on with a laugh.

"Better," Lila seemed to be looking directly at Helga's newfound smile. She looked up to her eyes. "Much better."

There was nowhere to wallow in your own self-pity at summer camp.

Getting up at six a.m. was just as exhausting with a full night's sleep as it was without one. It was Helga's sixth day in a row doing it- and she still didn't feel like a person until she had eaten at least her weight in greasy camp food. She sat up slowly- watching Phoebe stretch out in front of her bed in Beverly Row. She probably should shower for breakfast- it was the first time there wouldn't be an opportunity after. The hall bathroom was only two doors down. She heard patter in the halls as people got ready for bed.

Sunday had passed with little event- she might have emotionally tired herself out the night.

Her stomach was stirring, though- Monday had officially come, it was there, and they were getting campers. She had spent the last week in camp boot-camp, getting prepared the best way they knew how.

The time had flown by before she had even noticed it was passing. Although everything was new and exciting for her- apparently it was a relatively tame week compared to some other years.

She was frightened, which was silly, because they were only 7-10 year olds in her group, but still. Frightened.

After a swim review- she had managed to snag one of Eugene's shirts. It was baseball tee, white with red sleeves. She chose to wear that and some longer, 'parent-appropriate' shorts. She bundled them up and walked bare foot down the hall, listening to some chatter start to spread and doors creaking open.

She heard the sounds of someone singing as they showered in the boys bathroom as she walked past, turning around the corner for the girls.

It would be her last time for the week being able to stay inside to use the bathroom- she wasn't excited about having to make a nature walk just to shower, not at all. There was someone else in the bathroom already- it was Rhonda, stepping out of the shower, towel wrapped around herself tightly. Her hair fell against her face- which might have been the first time Helga saw her sans makeup. It was rather hard to tell the difference.

"Hey," Helga said softly. She hadn't had a conversation with her since the first day- the day she wouldn't let Helga in her cabin.

"Mornin'," Rhonda yawned, walking over to where she had her cosmetics spread out on the counter. She grabbed a towel, wrapping her hair in it.

Helga set her stuff on a bench by the showers- and stepped in for one without another word.

She listened to Rhonda's hair dryer blow while showering. Rhonda hadn't left by the time she finished her showers- which she guessed were still long, by camp standards. When she stepped out- Rhonda looked up at her curiously.

"Hey-" Rhonda said as she emerged. Helga wondered for a moment if she noticed the elephant in the room that Helga did- if she was going to acknowledge what happened on the first day. "Do you want me to do your hair?"

That wasn't what she expected her to say.

"Uh," Helga glanced at it hanging in her face, "sure?" Rhonda's hair wasn't finished, at least Helga didn't think so. It was long, dry and beautiful- curling at the ends, but hardly seemed appropriate for horse-back riding, which Helga knew Rhonda would be teaching all day.

Rhonda grinned. "Cool, give me like, two minutes."

"Okay." Helga wondered if she should tell Rhonda she was gonna brush her teeth and get dressed in the mean time. She didn't, and hoped that would be implied.

"So, you and Eugene, huh?" Rhonda asked carefully a few minutes later- her own hair pulled into a neat pony tail, with an intricate french braid at the front, and a red ribbon tied around it. Helga sat on a bench that Rhonda dragged up to the mirror, feeling gross- semi wet in dry clothes.

"Yeah."

"That's nice," She commented as she dragged a wide-toothed comb through Helga's hair. "Do you mind?" She asked as she picked up a bottle of expensive looking product from her own pile.

"Go for it," Helga shrugged, allowing Rhonda to slather her head in it.

"He's a good person." Rhonda added after a few moments. "I've known him a long time."

"Yeah-" Helga repeated self-consciously. "He is."

"Not one for dating usually," Rhonda frowned, pulling at a small knot in Helga's hair. She didn't wince- Olga was way worse on her poor scalp.

"Huh," Helga mused non-commitally.

Rhonda turned her hair dryer on and thankfully gave Helga an excuse not to say more.

Helga's hair looked better than it had ever looked by the time Rhonda finished blow drying it with her giant round brush- and other girls had filtered into the the bathroom. The only other person to shower was Lila- with a large shower cap on her head. Nadine showed up looking sweaty with a few other girls- they had gone for a run in the morning. Helga didn't know what was with these people and unnecessary exercise.

"What do you think, Nadine?" Rhonda tilted her head to the side, Helga's hair, blown out and beautiful- curling in at the ends, "I don't want to do full braids."

"Hm," Nadine looked up from washing her face. "I don't know…I like yours, but you don't want to match."

"Oooh!" Lila squealed over the sound of the shower. "Are we talking about hair?"

"Any ideas?" Rhonda was just pushing it around her skull, instead of doing anything specific.

"Yes!" Lila shut off her water, poking her eager little face out from the curtain, "oh, this is my favorite thing about camp."

Nadine sat on the counter, staring at Helga's face with interest, tilting her head to the side.

"No full braids?" Another girl said- Helga felt awful, but couldn't remember her full name, it was maybe Jamie? She spat out her toothpaste. Her hair was textured and natural- pulled into two buns on the back of her head. She had dark skin and a stunning complexion- brought out by her yellow top.
"It's too beautiful for that," Lila enthused as she dried herself down, expertly slipping into under clothes under her towel. "Here-" She dropped her towel- sports bra and underwear in tact, stepping into the pants she laid out on the ground, pulling them up. She pulled off her shower cap- and there were rollers in her hair.

"Why don't we," She walked over to Helga sans shirt, gently grabbing her hair from Rhonda. Helga would have been bothered by so many people looking at her / touching her, but she was too exhausted. "Do the upside down braid thing and a pony tail! Where you start at the bottom of her head, and go-"

"Go up! Yes! I know exactly what you're talking about!" Rhonda squealed. "Perfect!"

Twenty minutes later, abandoned by all the other girls- and Rhonda's crotch was all but in Helga's face, as she stood on either side of the bench, bent all the way over Helga, trying to braid her hair with coaching from Nadine and Lila. Lila had finished pulling her hair down from the rollers- now it fell in soft waves down her back. She pulled half of it up into a pony tail on her head. The idea for Helga's hair- though good in theory, was really difficult to execute- as it required french braiding upside down.

They heard a loud knock on the wall outside- the bathrooms, like school bathrooms, didn't have doors. "Y'all decent?" Gerald called.

"Yes!" Lila called. Rhonda had her tongue out in concentration, and Nadine was kneeling on the ground, carefully guiding her hands, hopefully for the last time.

"Guys, I was taking roll by the do- what in the hell are y'all doin?"

"I'm succeeding!" Rhonda shouted, as she frantically pulled a pony tail off her wrist and tied it hastily around Helga's hair at the top of her head.

"YES!" Nadine shouted like they won a sporting game- and Helga laughed. Rhonda almost fell off the bench as she punched the air- Lila caught the small of her back in the nick of time.

"Hold on!" Lila shouted as she helped Rhonda down from the bench. "If you move before I take a picture, I'll kill you."

"You too!" Nadine enthused, tying a bandana around her head to keep the dreads out of her face. "I did not spend all that time rolling your hair up last night for nothing."

Lila had a little polaroid camera- and Helga had a picture taken of the back of her head for the first time.

"Ladies, if I get yelled at by Coach over hair I swear to Go-"

"Calm down, Gerald," Lila rolled her eyes as they collected Rhonda's stuff.

"Gerald's just jealous we can't do his hair-" Nadine ruffled a hand on his short hair as she passed by.

An hour later- and Helga and Phoebe were stuck for the first time that summer, hauling their own shit to their cabin. They walked with Sid and Stinky- who's cabins weren't in the same clearing, but were more or less spitting distance apart.

Phoebe had her bag slung over her back, pillow in hand. Helga didn't have a long enough strap to do that, so she just carried hers in hand. When they had off that weekend and the option to go to the mall- the plan was to get a new bag.

After dumping their stuff at the bunks, the ones closest to the doors, they sat on the porch and waited.

Liz was riding up on a golf cart over the clearing. Liz was short with a full figure and a fuller temperament- and technically Helga's boss, but Helga kind of felt like everyone was her boss.

"LADIES!" She shouted as she rode up the hill- Helga wondered if she was trying to address all six counselors in the clearing of three cabins at the same time. "Clip boards! Walkie Talkies!" She barely pulled over to a stop as Phoebe hopped off the porch to grab them from her. "If you're missing a camper, walkie in." She said as Phoebe collected their items.

Within minutes- or maybe it was longer, but it felt so short- there were twelve eager little heads in front of Helga. She felt…almost proud? And motherly? They were already chattering about the week, and making their name tags with markers on the porch while they waited for the other girls to come in and claim a bunk.

"HI!" A girl very nearly sat on her foot. She was little- with a giant smile and unbrushed hair that reminded Helga of her hairbrushes-are-evil-phase. "My name is CAITLYN. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

Children never seem to have a concept of what was a normal speaking volume and what wasn't. Helga found it equal parts endearing and adorable.

"My name is Helga," She grinned down at her, "what are you most excited for this week?"

"THE ROPES COURSE." She said it frankly, almost with a matter-of-fact air, just at eight times the volume that most people had conversations at. "WHEN ARE WE GONNA SEE THE BOYS?"

Helga blinked. "The other campers in our group are sleeping up the hill, but we'll see them as soon as every body gets here."

"DO YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?" Caitlyn was fiddling with her shoelace. Helga didn't want to embarrass her and offer help. She thought to herself that strap on shoes should be illegal.

"Uh, well, I-"

"How many boyfriends do you have?" Another girl had joined them, plopping down in between them. She was quieter in tone, and looked older. Her name said MacKaylyn, which Helga was 99% sure was not a name. White moms needed to be stopped.

"Phoebe has a BOYFRIEND!" Caitlyn interrupted, settling in tying her shoe in a knot that would not be easy by any means to get out. "TAMARA TOLD ME!"

Helga didn't even know who Tamara was-

"Is there a talent show?" A new girl asked her, and Helga's head was beginning to spin.

The first real moment of silence they got all day was the safety lesson by the canoes- led by Sid. Sid and Stinky were great with the kids- managing a duo act that kept them simultaneously entertained and informed- and let Helga lay down in the grass behind the group. She was almost counting the minutes until break time- the two hours of recreational time when kids got to choose what activity they wanted to do- anything from crafts to a nature walk to the pool. Also the only time all day when counselors got a break at all. On Wednesday and Thursday she'd have to life-guard during it instead of nap, because the Junior Counselors would be up and out at camp and it was all a rotation. Phoebe had to work through Tuesday and Wednesday. Stinky was standing watching Sid go through the motions with his hands in his pockets. Stinky was probably the furthest person from Dean to ever exist- but it still reminded her of him. Just a little bit.

"SO," A child shouting brought her out of her stupor- she leaned up quickly, "WHEN DO YOU HAVE THE SWORD FIGHT WITH THE GIANT STICKS?"

"When do ya'…" Stinky drawled, wrinkling up his face with confusion, "What?"

Helga had no idea when that child acquired oars. She thought they were all still in the shed.

The boy- maybe his name was Jack? Helga barely knew the girls- was walking towards the lake's edge, demonstrating his sword fighting with the oar. It was large and unwieldy- Stinky and Sid looked nervous, they were walking towards him slowly with arms outstretched.

"Hey, buddy," Phoebe called from her spot on the other side of the group. "Hand that oar over to Stinky for me?"

"NOT UNTIL HE FIGHTS ME FOR IT!" He tried to do a large jump into Sid, very ala Zora- but he was right near the lake. He slipped on the wet of the mud, and the oar threw him off balance.

Straight into the lake.

Helga was on her feet in a matter of moments- but that didn't matter, because Sid had his shirt flung off and was following him in almost before he hit the water.

That wasn't so much the problem at hand.

Another boy- Mike, maybe? Helga had no idea, and it was chaos immediately anyway- was on his feet, and doing a cannon ball into the lake before Stinky could even shout "no!"

They say difficult things in life tend to go in slow motion- but Helga had never experienced that. She wished she had- so maybe she would understand how they went from calmly sitting on the grass to half the campers in the water- four campers trying to drag out a "rescue canoe" they didn't need, one camper pretending to have heat stroke, and another one crying- because they got hit on the head with an oar.

Because, frankly, she didn't know how the laws of time allowed for that development.

They had to punish them by taking away recreational time, and having a "quiet time" in their cabins instead. Helga didn't know who they were punishing- the campers or the counselors.

By the end of day two, it was pretty clear to her; she was in hell.

She and Phoebe left campfire nearly immediately as soon as their kids sat down to hide out in the mess hall for a few minutes before bed time, and then, blessed, lights out.

Campfire happened after dinner behind the mess hall every night- after a few of the boys had dragged it up from where they used to have it, at the lake. It was a mix of songs and skits that were as old as the camp itself. It was rung in by a strange tradition called the boogaloo- led by none other than Arnold and Gerald. It was a strange chant that one would shout at another asking to see their "lawnmower," or "zombie cat" and then the whole camp would do their best impression.

There were some camp things Helga didn't understand in the slightest.

Sid and Stinky watched them leave from the other side of their campers, and Helga could only imagine they'd be following them in shortly.

"Is this always this bad," Helga breathed as she collapsed on a large table in the lounge bit of mess hall. It was normally a ping pong table, but Jeremy from Night Owls had taken off the net and wrapped it around Norman from Adventure Kids precinct two during meal time. So, it was just a giant green rectangle, perfect for laying on. "Just tell me if it is. Rip it off, like a band aid or something."

"No!" Phoebe insisted. Phoebe, Helga had noticed, was a very collected person. She stood up straight, she spoke with purpose, her shoes were always tied. Helga lifted her face up to look at her friend. Phoebe's hair was collected on top of her head in a pile, with tons of fly-aways sticking out. Her face was red, and there was sweat on her arm. She sat down on the couch- looking more sprawled out than Helga had ever seen her look. "I don't understand, it's never been like this."

"Let me strangle him,"

"Sid, calm down,"

"I'm a good guy, Stinky. I go to church- sometimes, I write to my grandma, when necessary. I don't ask for much. All I'm asking is that you let me strangle that 9 year old." Sid and Stinky were struggling their way in through the giant screen doors, letting them close behind them. They were, undoubtedly, talking about Jack. They were followed by Harold, who said nothing, just bumbled his way in before sinking into a chair, and putting his face straight on to a table, tucked into the crook of his arm. Harold was doing sports mania- but apparently the disease of poorly behaved children spread to the entire camp that week. Helga was going to ask what exactly Jack did but she was interrupted by another voice.

"THIS-" They heard a voice before they saw a face, and then the girl had dramatically flung both of the doors open at the same time "SUCKS." Rhonda shouted, storming across the room. "What is WRONG with those MONSTERS?"

"They're kids, Rhon-" Nadine was tepidly following her.

"THEY TRIED TO CUT A HORSE'S HAIR- A FUCKING HORSE, NADINE."

"How much more time do we have until campfire's over?" Harold groaned into the table, not bothering to lift his head.

"…23 minutes," Phoebe answered, checking her watch.

The entire room let out a groan.

Helga heard the door creak open again.

"Is it just me," Gerald whisper-shouted from the entrance. "Or are these kids the worst?" "I have to do a cabin-check for scissors tonight," Rhonda's face was ghostly white as she sunk down to sit next to Harold. "Scissors."

"I've got approximately twenty minutes before boogaloo…but y'all, I don't know if I'm gonna make it through tonight." Gerald wiped his hand across his forehead. He leaned back against the wall- looking sweatier than Helga had ever seen a person look.

"What day is it?" Rhonda asked.

"Tuesday." Phoebe replied, letting her head fall backwards.

"Is that too early to get drunk after lights out?" Sid asked.

"Yes." Phoebe answered.

"Is that too early to kill myself?" Rhonda spit.

"Yes." Phoebe answered again.

"Damn." Harold muttered. If Rhonda weren't so exhausted she probably would have hit him.

"I gotta get back out there before Curl's eaten alive. And it's Curly. I might tell Arnold we gotta pull in the boogaloo early tonight, I can't with this."

"Please prolong it as long as you can." Phoebe begged. He blew a kiss at her in lieu of a response. She just groaned, and he did laugh before leaving- and it honestly left the room feeling a little lighter.

"What the fuck Pheebs-" Sid blurted out, "you didn't catch it?"

"What." She deadpanned at him, staring blankly over at his spot at the table.

"Fine." He responded. He leaned out and pretended to "catch" the kiss in mid-air, and then pretend-put it in his pocket. "I'll take it."

"Sid-" Stinky was staring incredulously at him, "have I ever told you you're fucking weird?"

"Every day."

"I can't just SIT HERE!" Rhonda stood up furiously, interrupting whatever weird moment Sid and Stinky were having. "Can't we DO something about it?"

"What if-" Harold was leaning up on his chin, looking wide-eyed across the room, "We all carried water-guns, and if the kids stepped out of line, we just, like, squirted them with it?"

"Thank you, Harold," Rhonda blinked at him, "for that terrible suggestion no one cared about."

Harold just groaned and put his face back on the table.

"Hey guys!" Eugene enthused as he opened the door. They were all being greeted with a sunny smile. "Meghan's gonna play a song- come on out and sing, it'll be fun!"

"Someone throw something at him." Harold muttered into the table.

As much as Helga liked to wallow in misery as much as the next gal- she knew Eugene was right. They only had a few more hours till light's out, anyway. She sat up on the table.

"I'll sing-" She said decidedly, jumping off the table. "But I'm not promising to be happy about it."

Eugene kissed her cheek when she reached him- followed by the others. Her hair was sticking to her face from sweat- but he was grinning at her, and light's out was like she thought, only a few hours away.

Helga woke up slightly more tired than she was the night before. She didn't know exactly how that was possible, but evidently: her mind made it happen. She braided Caitlyn's hair in a daze, and barely noticed the strain on her legs that giving Sam a piggy back ride to breakfast gave her.

She dropped her just barely ahead of the mess hall- because the girls were running forward on to the rec porch and hall- where vigorous games of ping pong were already happening. She trudged slowly up the stairs, leaning on the support beam of the porch, watching over the kids- sort of.

A hand appeared by her shoulder, leaning on the beam, too, and she looked to her left to see Arnold. He was paying more attention than she was- she could tell by the concentration on his face.

She realized that was probably a sign she had been looking too long, and turned back to look at the kids.

"I heard they're bad this year-" He said lowly by her ear. She nodded.

She yawned, standing up to her full height. "I don't know what to do about it," She leaned her head back on his shoulder a little- reveling in the human contact that wasn't grabby or demanding.

He pat his hand on her waist a little- as an almost I-got-this gesture, and stepped away before turning around to look out at the campers who were still running up.

Gerald was amongst them.

"Hey Gerald-" he shouted to him. "Have you heard it?"

"Have I heard it?" Gerald shouted back, looking confused, hands in his pockets as he walked up to the porch.

"I heard it's spreading!"

"Man, what are y-" Gerald paused as he neared the porch, looking up from the bottom of the steps. "Oh- that. You know, I heard it might be comin'." He suddenly spoke loudly, like he and Arnold were giving a show. They had already grabbed a few of the kid's attentions.

Arnold's hand started to snap- a rhythmic beat that would probably flow right along with any music in 4x4 time.

"You ready?" Arnold asked, still snapping as he held his hand back like he was going to throw a baseball.

"Born ready!"

Arnold snapped loudly while he threw his hand forward, like he had thrown the baseball. Then he stopped snapping and put his hand back in his pocket.

Gerald acted as if he had caught a heavy ball- and started snapping too.

"Woo-" He acted as if it were heavy. "It is STRONG this year, Helga could you take this for a hot sec'?"

He mimed throwing the 'snap' as if it were a light toss with a pebble. Helga caught on- and literally caught the snap. She started snapping rhythmically, grinning at Gerald. "You know I've got you, Gerald."

"I hear my sweet baby is back!" Sid burst through the doors of the mess hall proudly, Stinky just a step behind. "Give her here, Helgs."

Helga had no idea when anyone either gendered the snap, or started calling her Helgs, but she pretended it were suddenly a frisbee and tossed it to Sid- who mimed jumping up high to catch it.

"Wowee!" Sid enthused as he started snapping. "Feels good to be back," he shook his head with a grin. They now had everyone on the porch's attention- little eyes staring at them raptly. "Who am I throwin' it too, Arnold?" Sid asked. All the little hands went up, impatient 'me!' or 'throw it here, Sid!' flowed through the crowd.

Arnold held open his hands like how he would catch a football- and Sid threw the snap back to him. He caught it, but then promptly put 'it' in his pocket, so he could free his hand of the snapping.

"We'll see who's best behaved at breakfast, won't we, guys?" Arnold asked the crowd- who put their hands down and nodded eagerly.

So that's what that was about- Helga discovered. It was…genius, frankly.

The doors swung open again to an announcement that the tables were set and it was time to eat- and the kids flooded in, perhaps- a bit more politely than they would have the day prior.

"Man, I can't believe that-" Gerald grumbled as he wrapped an arm over Arnold's shoulder as they brought of the back of people filtering inside. "Tossin' it back to you, I made up the damn thing- ya bring all ya' friends to one lousy summer camp one time and suddenly you the King Among Me-"

"Gerald." Arnold interrupted, looking at his best friend. "Do you want it back?"

Gerald had a blank look on his face. "Yes."

All the kids were inside, but Arnold reached in to his pocket, then started snapping, and 'dropped' it into Gerald's hand, who promptly picked up the snapping, and pocketed it himself.

"You're a real friend, Arnold."

Helga shook her head- she could understand indulging the children, but Gerald was quite another story.

"Move, crazy, I want pancakes," She shoved Gerald out of her way with a grin.

It was stupid, and ridiculous- but it worked and her hand only cramped up once from all the snapping.

She told Arnold that it was brilliant later that night- and he lamented to her that it was actually Gerald's doing, like three years ago. She wanted to ask about what Gerald said, about him bringing everyone to camp, but she didn't.

"Well…it's smart, that's all I'm sayin'. Don't flatter yourself too much, hair-boy." They were standing in the hallway of the mess hall, and Eugene rounded the corner. She walked to him, letting him drape an arm over her. He nodded at Arnold, in an effort that probably only occurred to Helga as too intentionally Heterosexual. They were almost out of earshot- but she had heard it.

"Hey, Arnold- you seen the thi- hey, you alright man?"

Eugene was pulling her in another direction before she heard the response- and send her a warning look at the same time.

All she had to offer was a sheepish grin in response.

They were on the ropes course that Thursday afternoon- what the kids had really been looking forward to all week.

What the kids didn't get told- was it all ended with a big bucket of life lesson- about team work and weakest link and all that jazz and maybe Helga was falling asleep on a tree during it but that didn't matter it wasn't her lesson to learn.

She realized a few moments later- mostly when Jack told everyone that yelling at Tamara wasn't going to help her balance, and told her to take her time- that she was really kind of fond of her kids.

Awww- shit, they were leaving in less than 24 hours.

Hopefully that happened quicker next week.

On Friday morning she and Phoebe were up early. Danielle had fallen asleep on Grace's legs, at the inevitable stay-up late chat the girls had when Phoebe and herself met up with Nadine and Jamie the night before because they had a story they needed to tell someone.

Long story short: having 12 year olds 'dating' at your camp was an absolute nightmare.

The girls were mopey as they packed their bags, and exchanged cell-phone numbers and emails- which was a little terrifying, due to them all being so young, but Helga just assumed she was behind on the times. Helga was looking for Eugene while the kids sat on the porch and got weepy with each other- she had questions about exactly what she could expect to go down that weekend. She didn't see him setting tables, so she pushed into the kitchen, looking for the familiar tuft of red hair.

"Hey-" She called in, and a person looked at her from behind the meal racks- but it wasn't Eugene. It was Arnold, long sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows, looking hot. "Oh," She commented, "I was looking for..."

"Eugene?"

"My boyfriend?"

They said it at the same time- which made it impossibly more awkward. It grew terse in the hot kitchen- but Helga didn't know why it did, the kitchen had no right to the weird tension flooding it.

"Yeah- uh, I was looking for him outside but didn't see him, and I don't memorize his schedule or anything so I thought he might be on prep today, but it's pretty evident at this exact moment that he's not so I'm just gonna go, then."

She turned around, pushign back through the doors that didn't have handles, lingering outside of them just long enough to hear Arnold say "whatever you say, Helga."

The nerve on that stupidly attractive, annoying, tall, smart, frustrating, boy. There would be a day Helga would have a reason to hit him. She couldn't wait.

They waved the tiny terrors off a few hours later and as they watched the last one of their kids, Hunter, get into his Dad's van and be driven away, Sid leaned down to Helga's ear.

"I can't wait to get drunk tonight."

She felt the same way.

She sat in between Eugene's legs for most of the campfire that night- maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, sipping some kind of concoction of whatever Gerald had dumped into their gatorade cooler. Rhonda was dramatically retelling the girl clipping the horse's hair, Sid was shirtless, Phoebe and Gerald were nowhere to be found and it was hot out that night. She wished she had a ponytail, her long wavy hair sticking to her- and probably Eugene.

"I'm hot," She leaned back on Eugene, whining.

"I know you are, but what am I?" Eugene wiggled a little behind her playfully. "Sorry, was that gay?" He whispered at her.

She broke out into a full out laugh, taking another big sip from her cup.

"What's funny, Rhonda's boring, I want to laugh," Sid laid on the ground by Helga's legs, ignoring Rhonda's call of "fuck off, Sid!" Rhonda must have been tipsy- she never swore.

"You know what's funny," Eugene diverted- "we haven't seen Pheebs or Gerald in at least an hour."

"They have the art of subtlety mastered." Meghan added from her spot next to Rhonda.

"Hey-" Arnold joined in from the other side of the fire, leaned up against a log instead of sitting on it, arm along the back of it, where Nadine was sitting. "As long as we don't have a repeat of the Canoe fiasco of 2013- it's nobody's business."

"What's the canoe fiasco?" Helga sat up with interest.

"Wait-" Curly appeared almost from nowhere, appearing by Helga's side instantly. "No one told you of…the canoe fiasco?"

"Arnold!" Sid sat up in a hurry.

"No." Arnold replied flatly- and it was only then Helga realized he had a cup too, he finished it off. "Not gonna happen."

"Arnold- the girl's got a right to know." Curly said solemnly.

"Then just tell her about it-" he shrugged.

"Arnold," Sid whined, "me and Stinky personally volunteer as tribute."

Helga had no idea what they were talking about.

Stinky sat up with a start, he was sitting on a log, asleep in his palm. "What am I volunteerin' for?"

Rhonda leaned up and whispered it in his ear. "Oh for God's sake, Sid, why do you always havin' me reenact sexu-"

"It's not camp without it," Rhonda interrupted nonchalantly, digging some dirt out from under her nails. Nadine giggled.

Arnold looked to Helga- who really, really just wanted to understand what everyone was talking about. "Please?" She asked.

"Fine," Arnold pushed up from his spot tiredly. "Who's gettin' it with me?"

"I will!" She volunteered, almost to get away from Eugene's excessive body heat in the over-bearing heat of the night. "It's for me, anyway, whatever it is!"

"What is it?" She asked Arnold, flipping on her flashlight to shine it at their feet as they walked away from the group.

"A boat."

"A boat?" Helga exclaimed with interest- stumbling a little on her own feet, damn Gerald and his damn mixes.

"You'll see soon enough."

Arnold almost always had a ring of keys clipped to a front belt loop. Helga had never seen him use them for any sort of purpose, she almost thought they were just for decoration. As they walked up to the little row house he actually unclipped them from his belt and was twirling through them with his hands. Helga had the flashlight, and was going to offer it to him so he could see beyond just the dim light the singular light bulb on the house was offering- but he seemed to know by feel which one he was looking for. It reminded her of Dean- how he'd stalk around their apartment at night with no lights, never bumping into anything. Which reminded her of how he touched her- but that wasn't the topic at that moment.

She was trying her damnedest to walk in a straight line, to conceal any level of drunkeness she might have bestowed herself with. Her hair was sticking to the back of her neck- she wished desperately for a ponytail, even though she knew any hairstyle she could manage in her current state would be frankly awful. Arnold had definitely had something, but he was definitely more adept than she was at hiding it- she could only tell by the slight shake in his hands as he fiddled around looking for the lock for the shed.

She reached up, grabbing his shoulder with his left hand and using her right to shine a light over his shoulder so he could find it more easily. His shoulder tensed under her hand. She wondered if she should let go, but he had found the lock and seemed to be finding the light useful.

The lock clicked open so he dropped it- pulling the chain through the handles to the shed. She let go of his shoulder, taking a step back so he could swing the shed doors open.

He stumbled when taking his first step in- underestimating the distance between the shed and the ground. He caught himself on the wooden oar stand immediately by the door, arm outstretched.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered to himself, pausing there in between the entrance and the shed.

Helga was not in denial of her actions as a drunk person. She didn't blame things on alcohol that weren't alcohol's fault. She always knew exactly what was happening and what she was saying, she just maybe needed less reasons to do more than she normally would.

She ducked her head under his arm, hopping into the shed in what she hoped was a some-what graceful manner.

"Why are you doing this?" It was darker than she thought it was in there. She wanted to lean back on the boats behind her with a nonchalant air- but she didn't know how well they were attached to the rig, and she didn't need them falling.

She could tell, even in the very dim light, that Arnold furrowed his brows. "You just asked me to do this?"

She didn't necessarily like that answer- not in her odd, should-be-fuzzy, but everything-seemed-clearer state of mind. She didn't like the inclination that he was doing it because she asked him to, or the irritating flutter that thought gave her heart. She didn't like it at all- so she rephrased the question. Anything to change the subject.

"Me and Sid asked you to do this-" She stepped forward. She knew she was stepping forward, stepping very much into Arnold's direction, she knew she knew that even though she wished she didn't.

She tapped a finger on his chest- she knew she did that, too. They were the same height at that moment, her inside the shed, him still resting on his foot on the outside of it.

"And that doesn't tell me why you're doing it. Why do you always do this, why do you always help everyone?" She tilted her head to the side- she hoped it was attractive. She didn't know what it looked like.

Arnold sighed, wrapping his hand around the pole and using it to pull himself inside of the shed- to full height.

He was also standing very close to Helga now- but she had done that to herself, hadn't she?

"Because it's what I do," He said plainly, shrugging a little. He looked down at her.

She wanted to do approximately 50 and a half million things at the moment and couldn't pick one thing to do, so she just stared back.

"It's what I've always done."

"Why?"

If it was hot outside- it was an actual sauna inside of the shed. Despite the open door directly behind Arnold, the lack of the breeze made it feel like her hair was everywhere- sticking to the backs of her arm- was it already reaching the middle of her back? Damn- it was long.

"I, um-" His hand was on her hip suddenly, but it was gently pushing her. She stepped to the side so he could walk past, "you don't make anything easy, do you know that?"

She couldn't help the thought of Dean that flashed through her mind. "Yeah." She said quietly. "Yeah I do."

He looked back at her with surprise. "Oh, Helga- I didn't." He had concern written all over his face- the light now on her side so she could see him. He couldn't see her face, she knew that. She hoped that added to the mystery of it all.

"Look I-" He turned back around, hands already grabbing the ropes that tied up the three kayaks in front of him. "Would you grab the other side?"

She did as he asked, walking swiftly to the other side to untie the thick rope.

"Taking care of other has always been my…" He shook his head a little bit. Helga tried to act somewhat-disinterested, focusing on the ropes in front of her. "Schtick, as you would say. Always." He shrugged. "I guess it was more-so when I brought everyone out here for the summer."
Gerald's comment flashed forward in her mind. "So it was you?" She asked, tugging at the rope with frustration because it was not coming loose.

"Yeah," He smiled a bit. "Well, not everyone, but…a lot of the people- yeah. Gerald, Phoebe, Lila, Sid, Stinky, Nadine, even Rhonda." He was pulling his ropes- which were now untied, out from under the boat.

"Why?" Helga turned her back to him again, trying to conceal her rope which seemed more tangled than it was when she started.

"Well," he leaned up against the rack- she could feel it shift, so it was strong enough to hold a human, damn, "there was one summer where everyone was…really bummed out."
"Why?"
"We were all in one class, god- I guess I was 9? Maybe 10? And we all had to move," He commented solemnly. "Our neighborhood got bought out. Me and Gerald tried our darnedest to save it, but in the end, we were kids, you know? And a lot of us ended up relocating just outside of the city in the suburbs, which put our parents in more debt for a longer commute, and stressed, and we were gonna start new elementary schools- a lot of us split up, in the fall. And my Grandpa used to take me to Grandparents and Me, but I was too old. I told my grandparents that I still wanted to go to camp, and they suggested I invite my friends. And that's how a lot of us ended up here."

His hands were on hers- she didn't know when he had walked up. He was standing behind her- working at the knot she had made worse. She just dropped her hands, and maybe- just a little bit, leaned back into him.

"You're too good for this world." She was suddenly really tired, she yawned at the end of her sentence.

She felt his chest move with laughter. "Nah." He replied, already worked through most of the knot. "I just do my best." The rope was untied. It was so hot. She wanted to hit him. Or kiss him. Or maybe puke a little? Or maybe all three? Just with time and separation between them.

Oh- and a burger. She wanted that too.

He hadn't moved yet. Maybe he yawned too. He was holding the loose ropes.

Helga turned around, careful not to do it too quickly so her hair didn't smack him in the face. There was little that was less sexy than getting hair smacked in your face. She was then looking up at him- but she could only really see the outline of him- as the light was now fighting against her again. His head was outlined in gold- like some kind of angel. It made her laugh- so she did.

"God-" his hands dropped the rope and came to rest on the small of her back "you are so attractive."

And then- whatever you want to call it, tension, or whatever, it snapped like a twig, and he jumped back from her like he burned her, or something. He walked quickly, and backwards, to the other side of the boat. "Shit- sorry," He tripped over the rope he put on the floor. "I'm drunk."

Her heart rate was up 1000% percent from where it had started. The air in the room was so thick and he was trying to diffuse it quickly- but that only acknowledged it, which fanned the fire more than anything else.

"Two hands on it, yeah?" He instructed- trying to distract quickly. "Be careful, it's heavy. On the count of three, okay?" She braced herself on the side of the canoe, setting two careful hand under it, he counted and they heaved it up, and then down to the floor of the shed- rather ungracefully.

Her face was most definitely flushed- her heart was still racing, and she was breathing heavily as the boat was really fucking heavy. There were too many things running through her body- too many feelings to feel and everything was simultaneously foggy and crystal clear and somehow her head started to ache and vomiting still wasn't off the table, and she was breathing heavily, hands on her knees, and Arnold was still talking.

"Right, yeah, good job then," he tiptoed around the side of it, narrow walking space. "I think if you help me one more time, just like, flip it over, or maybe not, maybe I can do it- but anyway, I'm just gonna tie this rope to the top and then I can drag it down to the lake, not saying you're not capable bu-"

"Hey, Arnold," She stood up to her full height, letting out another puff of a breath, setting her hands on her waist. He was fiddling with the rope and the boat by her feet, kneeling down to the front of it. He paused and looked up at her. "Eugene's not really my boyfriend." She, again, really couldn't see him well, because the light was working against her.

Then again, she didn't really need to, because before she could blink or say anything, or rationalize why she said that- he was standing, and his hands were on her waist and her shoulders bumped into the boat holder thing whatever- the name wasn't important, what was important was that he was kissing her and… shit.

And that was when her thoughts stopped flowing.

a/n that's a doozy of a chapter.

i remastered this so it has more sensical structure now that i ahve the actual /plot/ figured out- woo! so there will be four chapters of nearly equal length- very very long, and theyll come really really slow. it might be too much for some people in one sitting- thats ok that doesnt upset me! if you've already been reading this...well not too much has changed but i'd prob read the last few sections so you're not too thrown off by next chapter- which wont be for a long ass time, hoo-boy. i would maybe read it all tho- there are lil scenes thrown in there that weren't there before. but idk, ur life to live! let me know what u think of the changes if uve been reading, or the structure of it all. i know its not too common, but it was frustrating me the lack of structure in it before.

like alway love u all thanks if uve already been w/ me, welcome if u havent, u r my ppl!

xx. k.