Manipulation High

Chapter 64: Fishing 🐟🐠

Another creative chapter name, but this one with a fish emoji cause why not.
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George POV.

“Okay, since everyone has finished their lunch we will be spending the afternoon fishing.” The councillor announced as we all gathered around. I was not looking forward to this since Techno and Wilbur explained more of it at lunch.

It involved two pairs of students sitting in a small rowboat, each with a fishing rod and having to catch fish for their dinner. How much fish was required was never specified, but we would each have a cooler full of ice to put them in. They then remembered to add that we’d have to do a thirty minute walk to get to the lake where we were fishing and carry all the stuff ourselves.

“Now this next activity is a particular hobby of mine,” Mr Ryans said pridefully as everyone waited on instructions for this afternoon. “We will be going fishing for dinner tonight. You will all be in groups, one pair of boys with one pair of girls.” A couple of the kids in the group grumbled at this as Mrs Rogers took over the explanation.

“We will be walking down to a boat shed near the lake where we’ll be fishing, and you, in your group of four, will carry your boat, your cooler full of ice, your fishing rods, your oars, and anything else you might need with you. Then we’ll be on the water for about two or three hours. You will all also need to be wearing a life jacket in case you fall in.”

That was pretty much the only explanation we got before being directed to follow after the camp counsellor as he began heading towards the path we’d walked along yesterday to get to this place. I did remember us driving past the lake on our way, but that was about five minutes away, driving 60 miles per hour in the middle of a forest.

Sure enough, we were led on a walk which took almost an hour because of how many breaks people needed, and the fact that the forest undergrowth was really dense, and the camp counsellor telling us facts about every type of tree or rock or bird we passed. Eventually we reached the rocky waterfront of the lake.

Close to where we had emerged from the tree line was a large shed which seemed almost fifty years old at least. That was where the boats were stored, but before we could gear up we were told we had to be put in our groups and to stand with our partners.

Reluctantly I stood beside Clay, barely making eye contact as the teachers counted off the groups to make sure we had everyone. Then they started pointing out pairs and sending them over to the shed to grab their boats. The blond and I were put with a pair of girls who began giggling to each other as we walked away from the remaining students.

The pair of girls were honestly useless. It took Clay almost five minutes of convincing to get them to carry the fishing rods and cooler down to the lake while he and I worked together to take the boat down. By the time they had most of the other students had gotten out onto the water.

Once we got everything into the boat they were complaining about their clothes getting destroyed from the life jackets. When they had finally sucked it up and put them on they climbed into the boat and had myself and Clay struggle to push the rowboat into the water with them and all of our gear inside.

The two of us managed though, and I was at this point glad that I had decided I would be okay talking to him and such over this week since I’d rather talk to him then these two girls. Once we went to climb on the boat though they had rearranged their positions so Clay had to sit beside one of them, meaning that I also had to sit beside one of them.

“This is such a beautiful lake, don’t you think Clay?” One of the girls, a ravenette with a pink shirt and dark hazel eyes, commented. She was practically leaning on the tallers shoulder while she and her friend had us doing all of the rowing.

“It is beautiful I guess.” Clay said with a shrug, before resting his arms from their constant pattern of rowing back and forth. “Would this be a good place to fish? We are away from most of the other students.”
“Anywhere you pick will probably be good.” The other girl, the one beside me, hummed.

“Okay. Here it is.” the blond stated, a look of discomfort painfully obvious on his face as he moved to put some bait on the end of his fishing rod. Once the bait was set he flung the hook into the water before adjusting the rod so it was leaning against his leg and looking over the water.

“Do you often fish Clay?” The girls asked, both being more focused on him than fishing. I tried to ignore them as I baited up a rod for myself before sending it into the water on the opposite side of the boat.

“I haven’t fished since I was a kid with my grandfather.” Clay spoke cautiously. He sent me a glance, clearly wanting to end this conversation but I didn’t know how I could help him. He then tried to add me in the conversation, asking 'how about you George?'
“That’s sweet,” one of the girls hummed, ignoring the last sentence and his attempt to try and involve me, and I resisted the urge to snort at the look she was giving him.

For about ten minutes we waited, trying to see if anything would bite at the rods, although it was hard to focus with the girls ogling Clay the entire time. Plus, they were no help when we did finally catch a fish. Clay hoisted one out of the water and passed it to the girl for her to put in the cooler while he baited his hook again, and she screeched before dropping it back in the water.

About three hours passed of us sitting on the water and doing all of the work, with Clay also having to suffer through the downsides of being pretty, we were told by Mr Ryans to head back to shore.

Our fishing excursion wasn’t too bad, since we did end up catching three decent sized fish, (four if you count the one that was thrown back into the water). It seemed as we were rowing back that some of the other groups didn’t even get one bite from a fish, which made me wonder what they’d end up having for dinner.

Two hours later we had managed to walk back, and our clothes had dried off. And thankfully the pair of girls weren’t completely useless, since they did end up helping to build the fire we were cooking over, cook the fish, and clean up our mess afterwards.

It was safe to say Clay and I were both relieved when we got comfortable in our tent, and today had given us enough things to joke about until late into the night, which was another good thing. For today at least, it felt as though we were friends again.
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1290 words

I don't remember how many days it'll be until Antiheroes goes up, it's just when I can be bothered to do it at this point.

Anyway, who hates it when they have a great story idea or something and they have nobody to share it with?