Cabin Three // h.s. au

t h i r t y

Cabin Three will be finished no matter what. I promise this. No worries, babies.

Also, I'm back, so.

Of the year Secret Crushes and Secret Rooms.
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t h i r t y

"How did it go?" I whispered as Harry entered the vending area.

"It was fine. Since I was only holding the button for a large moan and 'Je,' I just said I was having a wank and was saying 'Jesus.' He looked so mortified that I don't think he wanted to ask questions." I winced.

"I'm so sorry," I forced out through squinted eyes. "That must've been so embarrassing."

"It was, but that's no reason for you to be sorry. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to hold the walkie talkie." His eyes narrowed as he gazed into the distance. "It wasn't." I stifled a laugh and raised my eyebrows, before I heard Oliver call out Harry's name.

A mischievous grin was placed across his soft face as he looked us both up and down. I resisted the urge to set fire to my skin and feel my flesh slide off the bone under his snarky gaze.

"So," Oliver began. He looked at me. "It happened."

"Oh, f.uck off," I groaned, pushing him away and covering my face. I recognized silence for a longer time than I expected, which was probably only a few seconds, but longer than necessary, so I split my fingers and peaked out to see Harry smirking and nodding while he wiggled his eyebrows.

I quickly slapped his stomach with the back of my hand, murmuring, "What the f.uck, Harry?"

"What was I supposed to do? Be shy about it?"

"You could've been a little bashful, or at least have some discerning."

"Bashfulness flew out the window when I broadcasted a moan through the whole camp."

"He's got a point," Oliver announced, with a small twitch of his upper lip, constraining a desire to giggle.

"Good God, I have work to do. Please try to have some modesty if confronted about it again," I ordered, leaning on one leg, resting my palm across my hip.

"Sure, of course," Harry sarcastically stated with his eyebrows turned and his lips flattened, eyes turned off to the side.

"Oh, my god. Bye."

***

"Okay, has everyone covered their district well?"

"What is this? The Hunger Games?" A small red-head chuckled.

"No," I responded. "This is not the hunger games. This is far more serious. The stakes are much higher."

"The Hunger Games was a matter of life or death, you can't--"

"The stakes are much higher," I repeated louder than before. The petite girl only glared at me as a forced a fake smile on my lips, looking out at my army of tweens.

Sometimes I forgot how much older I was than all of the other girls. Why couldn't I have just applied for a job here, being a counselor, rather than being an actual camper? It was mortifying, really, being the only camper old enough to buy cigarettes and lottery tickets.

Around sixty percent of the campers were fourteen or under, and while I have no problem with younger people, it was strange and made me feel out of place, even after two weeks.

"Okay, I hope you guys have done a good job of hiding them, because I'm hoping that if you did well, he'll consider letting us be in charge once again," I explained, grinning. "Thank you guys again for your help. I think that Oliver has made some cookies or brownies or something as a thank you, so head to the mess hall." I smiled, watching the girls turn around and laugh. Some of them seemed like they could care less about the cookies, but there were the few girls, one in particular, actually who seemed to love food more than others; she was screaming,