Chapter 15: Doormat-ness♥

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I only properly wake up when I flop off the deflated airbed onto the floor with a loud thud. Immediately my joints start up a chorus of complaints.

 "This is why I don't like camping," I curse under my breath as I try to extract myself from the prison that is my sleeping. This nearly ends in disaster as I trip over the corner of Charlie's camp bed (why don't I have one of those?) and fall into the side of the tent.

 When I'm finally free, I tiptoe out into the main section of the tent, where I can hear my dad snoring away. Sliding on my flip-flops I unzip my way out of the tent and head over to where our fold-out chairs are positioned around the charred remains of a small fire.

 What feels like a tidal wave of nostalgia hits me, the entire setting feels like a film-set recreation of my childhood camping trips. Everything from the small dew-drops that transfer off the damp grass onto my ankles to the angry camp official "having words" with Paul over our impromptu fire last night. You can't take my parents anywhere.

 By the time I've fixed myself a bowl of coco-pops and sat down, the not-so-happy-camper has left and my mum, Trudy and Lucas have joined us. Of course my dad and Charlie are still fast asleep, Charlie on his fancy camp-bed while I slum it on my crappy airbed. Shovelling spoonful's of cereal into my mouth, I'm not paying attention to the conversation when I realise my name is being mentioned.

"Hmmpf?" I mumble through closed lips, saving a lecture on talking with my mouth full. My mum rolls her eyes, which is ironic considering how annoyed she gets with me when I do that.

 "I was saying what are you going to do today?" She says in a tone that implies what I'm doing has to be productive and sociable, two things I really don't feel like today. Or ever, really.

 "Dunno," I mutter, loading up my spoon again. "Maybe read a book?" At this mum pulls a face that makes her look like she's bitten a lemon.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mum, I really do. But the truth is I've always known she wanted a little girl who was cute and blonde and good at art like she is. And instead she got me: average height, average eye colour, average hair colour, bigger than average feet and the artistic skill of a blind deer. That is, none.

While we have our differences I know she wants what's best for me, so I've tried to force myself into an outgoing personality like it's a size too small dress. Or more like a size too large: at first glance everything looks right, but then you realise the person is practically lost in the folds of fabric.

I think I'm a bit too much of a people pleaser, a pushover. In fact I'm practically a doormat. But that still doesn't stop me from straightening up and glossing over my previous statement like some sort of human tippex.

"Or maybe have a wander around with, erm, Charlie and Lucas! Yes, we'll probably all do something together, like...uh..." I trail off, trying to remember what I used to do when I last came here. 

"Play...badminton?" Lucas jumps in, and I try to shake my head imperceptibly at him. Unfortunately, my version of imperceptible in pretty perceptible, and I end up looking like one of those nodding dogs. "Or...go down to Plassey Lake!" He suggests, scrunching his face into an expression that looks part irritated like honestly Autumn I'm trying to help here! and part it's too early for this.

"Yes!" I practically yell, leaping onto his suggestion gratefully. "Plassey Lake. We'll go there. Later, when Charlie gets up."

 "I was summoned," I hear my brother yawn as he joins us. Speak of the devil...

 "It appears you have plans." My mum says, handing him a bowl.

 "Have I?" He mutters, shooting me a questioning look. Before I can reply mum has swooped in again with the details.

 "Yes, you're going to the Plassey Lake this afternoon with- Oh for God's sake Charlie do you really need that much cereal?" Mum sighs as Charlie almost overfills his bowl with a generous amount of coco-pops, which is the only cereal me and Charlie both like, therefore the only cereal we ever seem to have.

 "I'm a growing boy," He replies, sinking into the chair next to mine.

 "You're a midget," I snap back, still annoyed over losing my day of reading.

 "I'm taller than you!" He says as he stuffs what must be half the contents of the bowl into his mouth.

 "That's not hard," Lucas grins. I stick my tongue out at him.

 "Anything looks small to you, Mr six-foot-two and counting." I retort, swinging my legs up and tucking them out of the cold morning air into my oversized jumper, not caring how stupid it makes me look.

 Mum has already started packing up breakfast, even though half of us aren't finished. I half protest as she takes my bowl from my hands, even though it's only got enough for two more scoops.

 "You better go and start getting ready," She tells me, nodding towards my hair which I had hastily tied up in a ponytail the night before and now probably looks like a bird made a temporary nest in it. Pulling my phone out of my pocket I subtly check my reflection in the darkened screen. I was nearly right: the vague remnants of a ponytail look like a bird nest that was then mauled by a bear and then run over by a truck.

 "Yeah," I agree, again hating my constant need to impress other people. I don't even want to go to this lake; I'm doing it because I want to make my mum happy. In fact I don't even want to be here, at this campsite with its controlling officials and crappy showers.

 I don't want to be kissed and then told it didn't mean anything. And I don't want to be the kind of person who just accepts that it doesn't mean anything yet still secretly hopes that that guy would call her.

 I stand up and head back into the tent to get ready. After dragging a brush through my hair and pulling it up into a neater version of the ponytail I originally had, I throw on what has become my summer uniform: denim cut offs, a vest top and comfy flip-flops. Before stepping out the tent to join the others, my eyes rest on my newest paperback, which I had been planning to read today. Impulsively, I grab it and shove it into my bag. Even though it's petty, it still feels like a small victory against my doormat-ness.

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