Eleven

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Kev, Evangeline and Goodie all scream in horror. Then, after that, Goodie asks, "Miss Kevin, what's a Changeling?"

Only Trixie and Finch seem to be unshaken. "Team," Finch announces after briefly meeting Trixie's silver eyes, "there is nothing to fear. Orson, Evangeline, find us some twigs. Kev, Goodie, you two and I will set up traps around our camp. And Trixie..."

We all direct our attention to the two.

"Get some rest, you look like a bag of shit."

"That's mean," Trixie replies.

Evangeline and I excuse ourselves and we go hunting for twigs.

Ten, twenty, thirty. Twigs are strewn all across the forest. Forty, fifty, sixty. This is stupid. Seventy, eighty, ninety, and a hundred. This is boring. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred. Now this is fucking ridiculous.

We return, to see the others building traps around our campsite. Despite Finch's protests, Trixie helps.

Oh well. It's like Finch is our leader, not Trixie. What happened to the little psychopath?

Evangeline and I dump down our twigs and help immediately, until our traps form a circle around our tent.

"Done," I comment as we're...well...done.

Trixie gets out her phone, and when I think that she'll take a shot and share on social media, she calls Helen again and yells in a language I don't understand.

What the fuck is this psycho up to?

Everybody except Finch asks me for a story, so Finch asks, "Orson, why do they ask you for a story so frequently?"

"Because they hate me," I reply, sliding into my sleeping bag.

"Can I have a story, too? I swear, I won't ask again. I just wanna know."

Finch, what the fuck?

"I don't feel like it," I fake a yawn.

"MISS ORSIN, TELL US A STORY OR I'LL FUCK YOU!" shrieks Goodie.

Shit.

One, he's getting us unwanted attention, and two, don't fuck me, Goodie, I'm not gay.

I slide deeper into the sleeping bag, so that only a tuft of hair peeks out. "Maybe another time."

God, can't my fucking friends read people?

"Sto-ry! Sto-ry!" Angel starts to chant.

I grab the zipper of my sleeping bag and zip myself into the sleeping bag. It's awfully stuffy, but it's worth it.

Why I want to avoid them?

I just don't want to tell them. I don't feel like it, and they keep bothering me with stories, so even if I did feel like it, I wouldn't tell a story. But Evangeline's puppy eyes made it a whole different matter.

God, why does she have to own those eyes?

I fall asleep quickly to muffled complaining noises.

I should have known that my rudeness would have its consequences. Goodie wakes me at 3:00 a.m. by jumping on my sleeping bag. I have to unzip myself. I swear, I would have strangled him or handed him to Trixie if it had not been for Kev. Even Evangeline starts being more annoying than usual.

"Evangeline, why?" I demand.

She gives me a sad puppy face. "We just want a little story, you know."

"Stop bothering me over it! You can read as many of them as you want on Wattpad!" I shout.

"What's Wattpad?" asks Evangeline.

"We're on Wattpad as we speak. Somebody writes about our adventures and posts them on Wattpad."

"One, what exactly is Wattpad?"

"It's a massive library where you can read and write for free."

"Two, why are we involved?"

"It's because...I dunno," I admit.

Evangeline grins. "I am so getting Wattpad!"

I sigh. Wait until she reads our adventures, and how Wattpad writers depict them. One thing is for certain: I am getting my ass kicked.

"Evangeline, download that on your phone and leave me alone," I'm seriously irritated.

"But Orson-" Evangeline moans.

"No buts," I snap. "Leave me alone.

And with that, I launch myself back into the sleeping bag.

"Orson?"

"Yes oh great and powerful doll face?"

"It's one o' clock in the afternoon. Lazybones."

SHIT!

Anyway, to my relief, the others hold out for about two days. Evangeline busies herself on Wattpad. Kev sketches (he's actually quite decent) and Goodie reads more and more pornos. Huuh. I'm sick of him.

So far, Trixie's the only person who hasn't requested a story. Even better, Finch has stopped asking. Finally, someone who understands me!

But then, Goodie asks for another story again. Damn. I thought he'd rid of the habit.

Anyway, it's all calm again until we really run into disaster.

And it's worse than anything we've seen. I mean, what can be worse than a Changeling, a drakon or a Shiram?

A whole herd of drakons, about twenty Changelings and an entire army of Shirams.

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