"Yes?"
"I- I um- well, you- I-"
"Listen, kid, the campers' cabins are on the other side." He points behind him. "Now, move, yeah?"
"That isn't it!"
"Then what is it?" He still has that same bored tone.
Finally, the words I've been meaning to say spi...
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My soft spot for Noah is rotting back to its usual rotteny-ness, especially after realizing he made zero attempts at waking me up this morning.
I scramble around in the tiny cubicle one may call a shower like a crazy lady, frantically scrubbing up and down my arms while also trying to juggle shaving my legs. Both of my arms are hard at work in different places, my leg perched as I battle with the slippery, soapy razor handle.
All of this is a terrible idea. Being here at this camp. God knows I'm crap at keeping up with schedules, yet here I am with each of my limbs flung in every which direction attempting to get ready for a job I'm seriously regretting applying for right about now.
A loud knock comes from the door and I scowl despite knowing he can't see me. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!
Noah's laughter echoes through the cabin from how deafening it is, making my scowl deepen. He wants me to hurt him, I'm convinced of that now.
"What'd I do now?" The sorry-or not so sorry, in this case-bastard is still cracking up behind the door.
In no universe is this funny. What if I get a strike for being late? Is there even such a thing for counselors? The entire one reason I'm here was to take care of kids, that I currently wasn't because I'm probably freaking late.
"You know exactly what you did!"
I hear him hum thoughtfully. "Nope, no idea. Sorry, Prin-"
"Noah, I swear on everything holy-go there, and you're dead!"
A loud very much feigned sad sigh escapes his lips. "Guess that means you don't want the day off then, huh?"
I froze in my spot, mulling over his words for a moment. Then I quickly finish up shaving my legs, throwing the razor on the floor of the shower angrily as I turn off the water and get out. I don't bother wringing any water out of my hair, I just grab the first towel I see and wrap it right around me.
Throwing the door open, I scowl at him. I didn't hear a single thing about this from anyone, so now I ave to figure out if it's for real, or if he's messing me. If he's messing with me, he'll never hear the end of it. And I mean never.
He grins. "There's that beautiful face."
Usually, I'd cower back into the bathroom at a comment that makes my heart speed up like that, but I have no time to think about wanting to jump his bones right now.
"Are you being serious or freaking with me?"
"Well, you know I love a bit of freaking once in a while, but I'm sorry to say that I'm very serious."
Narrowing my eyes at the boy before me, I contemplate whether I want to believe him or not. I mean, he seems genuine enough, but God knows I don't have the balls to take any chances.
