Rocky Waves
I do not in anyway own Total Drama Island. If I did this still probably wouldn't be an episode and when Bridgette left on Sunday, it would have been my own choice so it wouldn't make any difference what so ever if I did own it. It instead belongs to Todd Kauffman, Mark Thornton, Jennifer Pertsch, Tom McGillis, Fresh Animation, and other companies and people that do not come to mind. This is my first TDI story although I had another one planned but I did not like the way it turned out. Updates come however fast I type and write, which is very fast. So they will probably come infrequently. And just a note, their thoughts are done in italics and the confession can in bolded italics.
Chapter 1: Early Morning Showers
Not a sound was heard except for the quiet chirping and chattering of birds and squirrels. The early morning sunrise painted the horizon with soft pastel colors of blue, pink, red, orange, purple, and yellow. Dew left over from the night before made the thin, long blades of uncut grass sparkle like the stars on a cloudless night. To many, it seemed the perfect picture of peace and tranquility, but in reality, Camp Wawanakwa was the farthest thing you can imagine put picture perfect.
During this abnormally peaceful moment, a blonde haired surfer by the name of Bridgette awake from a deep slumber. Without opening her eyes, she gave a groan as she turned over to try and fall back asleep to escape the dreaded morning that was about to happen. But the sun shining through the window had proven that falling back asleep was futile, and so she opened her jade green eyes only to squint at the bright light she had not expected.
With an irritated sigh, she moved her self from the bottom bunk of her bed and gazed around the cabin. Pieces of dirt, hair, and small rocks stuck to the rug that had just been recently removed of tape as well as many sections of thread missing although with the rest of the floor around it had been swept previously the night before. The torn yellow drapes hung ragged, patched, and limp from the window as a light breeze blew in. Both teams had also been shocked find that the coal black radiator hadn't been working for the past ten years, causing them to bundle up with the extra blankets that a few had been smart enough to bring on the occasional cold night. But it was the other five female campers that had her entranced the most.
Crazy, red-headed Izzy had never been so quiet before but there was still a malicious grin on her face that made Bridgette relieved to not be able to see what was going on in her mind. The vicious Heather was sleeping peacefully, her grey black hair spread around her messily. Lindsey's own golden blonde hair had somehow managed to stay neat and tidy while she gave the occasional snore with her eyes being covered by frilly, lavender purple mask. Spunky, ebony black haired Leshawna was for once not bickering unmercifully with Heather and gothic Gwen wasn't in morning for her late Trent.
With a yawn that made her jaw ache, Bridgette looked at the black strapped watch that encircled her left wrist. To her horror it was only quarter to six. She almost cried out in sorrow before falling back onto her bed, careful not to hit the low top bunk. Slowly she realized something though; she could make good use of this situation. For once she could actually have a quiet, hot shower, not being interrupted out of her peace of mind to listen to Heather and Leshawna argue endlessly and not have to wait her turn just to do something as simple as brushing her teeth.
Grabbing a towel and her usual attire of a blue bunny-hug and long jean shorts, she rushed out of the cabin dressed in nothing but her white T-Shirt and grey sweat shorts, not having to worry about anyone seeing her. As she walked to the area where the showers were, she couldn't help but realize that this must have been what the camp had looked like before either Chris or Total Drama Island. She could hardly believe it. There would have been no cannon blasts, no planes flying only inches above your head, no disgusting smells of Chef's next meal (if you could even call it that) wafting from the kitchens, and most of all, no Chris Maclean annoy and make you want to murder him every step of the way.
Bridgette almost slipped and fell through the rotting wood on the second step up to the showers. Giving a sigh of relief that her clumsiness had actually left her, if even for only a second, she pushed open the wooden door that lead to the showers. The door opened with a long creak as she walked through middle of the room, passed all of the showers that lay on the walls, sending dust flying and bugs scattering away from under her foot with every step. Cautiously she turned on one of the taps, Leshawna had sworn to both her and Gwen that she had turned off the sewage that had had Heather smelling horrible for the past few days. She had connected it back to the normal water but you could never be too sure about those types of things. It could not have worked. To her relief though, nothing put clear water came spraying from the shower head nozzle.
Stepping into the running water, she shivered in pleasure when she felt the warm water run over her body. Normally the water was fairly cool from having three other girls showering with you. But since she was the first and only person showering right now, she had never felt so at peace before.
Drying herself in a used white towel, she began to get dressed and gathered up all of her stuff. To her shock though, no matter how hard she searched, she couldn't find the pony tail she had brought with her. Muttering a small word of profanity under her breath, she happened to glance at her watch. She had to double back though when she noticed that it was already seven o'clock! She had spent an hour in the shower. Shaking her head sadly that she had to wear her hair down until breakfast was done; she hurried off to her cabin. As soon as she had stepped outside though, she was met with a huge downpour of rain. This was not at all good. The rule was that if you didn't make it to the breakfast hall by 7:15, the doors closed and you didn't eat. And even if Chef's eggs had the texture, taste, and smell of burnt rubber, it was still very loosely defined as food. And even if Bridgette did hate having her hair down, breakfast was still one of the most important meals of the day and she couldn't miss it. She had never skipped breakfast before in her entire life and she wasn't about to start now.
She burst into her cabin relived to see that no one was there. She haphazardly threw her bundle of dirty laundry in the corner with the rest and rushed out of the cabin. She quickly pulled her hood over her head, praying that no one was around to see her, and ran across the grass with her sandals loudly squishing. About half way there though, Bridgette ran into something, or someone, hard. She stumbled backwards and almost fell to the ground, about to land in a small mud puddle, when a hand reached out and grabbed her arm firmly.
Yep, definitely a person. She thought as she looked up to thank the person who had stopped her from falling. Who she saw made her words catch in her throat and make her blush a light bubble gum pink. There Geoff stood, his bare chest that was showing from his pink unbuttoned jacket was glistening with dripping rain and his blonde hair hung limp in front of his cornflower blue eyes.
"You okay Bridge?"
"Yeah thanks," she replied quietly.
"We should..." Geoff started.
"We should probably get to breakfast," she finished.
Bridgette felt a warmer blush creep up her neck only to rest on her cheeks.
"Sorry about that," she said meekly.
"Its okay dude, it has happened before," he smiled.
Even she couldn't help but smile as she remembered the memory that seemed so long ago, even though it had only bit a bit over a week. They had almost kissed then before Chris had interrupted to bring her to the new cabin where she would have been staying, the girl's cabin. She had to admit that even though it was nice to be living with other people again, Courtney had been a much better cabin mate despite her complaints about Duncan. At least they hadn't argued almost every second over the most trivial things like how the bed should be made for example. She had never had a rougher week that day, except for when she had been forced to spend three hours in the woods, now that had been scary.
She blinked to rid herself of the memories to see Geoff's face only inches away from her own. Unconsciously, Bridgette moved closer, their lips almost touching, she could smell his cologne that he had received from the last challenge, before they bell rang, signalling that they still had five more minutes to get to the dining room before the doors closed. Surprised, she stepped backwards and grabbed Geoff's hand.
"We better hurry!" Bridgette said as she ran off with him. Geoff's hand felt warm in her hand as they both hurried to toward the mess hall to be served their next "meal". To their relief, at least, they think they were relived; they arrived at the dining room only seconds before Chris started to close the door.
They entered to see the shocked faces of those who thought they were brave to have dared to be almost late and the bored looks of others. Both Bridgette and Geoff were red faced from the run and were laughing before they realized that their hands were still clasped together. Abruptly they let go amid the whistles and calls of some of the other campers.
Geoff removed his hat and flipped it upside down to let the pool of rain water that had collected on his hat fall to the floor where it now currently lay. She gave a large smile at Bridgette and went to sit down at the table that was formally known as the Bass table. She herself made the mistake of sitting there, her back facing Heather.
"Hey Bridgette," she greeted sweetly.
"Oh, hey Heather,' Bridgette replied.
"Why do you still have your hood up? It's not raining inside is it?" Heather asked with a smirk lining her cold features.
Bridgette tensed up immediately after the question was asked. "No it's not. I'm just having a bad hair day," she laughed nervously as she her grip around her hood tightened.
"If you remove your hood, I could probably see if I could fix it."
"NO!"Bridgette yelled in horror. "I mean no, I can fix it myself after breakfast."
"Well fine then," Heather replied haughtily. "Shows how much you appreciate my help."
"You aren't any help. You only help in making people's lives more miserable," Gwen replied sadly from across the hall. She had been quiet, sulky, and twice as moody as before since Trent had left the island only a couple of days prior. Bridgette felt her heart pang in sympathy for the poor girl and would have comforted her had see been close enough. Instead, all she could do was a give a sad sort of smile before turning around again to talk to the rest of the people at he table.
Heather: Gwen and Bridgette deliberately shunned me in public! This is not right. And here I am, trying to forgive Bridgette and her mistake in choosing Goth Girl's side and she rejects it. Last time I ever help Surfer Girl.
Heather felt her cheeks burn in anger and made a movement to pull down Bridgette's hood. To her anger though, everyone around her stood up left her perfectly manicured nails grasping nothing but air. It was time to get the food.
Grumbling about misfortune falling to the misfortunate, she stood up and stopped in front of Lindsey who was currently staring into space.
"Lindsey, move!" she cried forcefully to the dim-witted blond in from of her.
Lindsey's eyes opened wide as she came back to earth with a crash, well, causing everyone else to crash that is, when she moved backwards to let Heather budge in front of her. The movement caused many "Hey!"'s and "What the hell?"'s to come forth. With of course the small blushes as well showing up on Bridgette's creamy complexion in particular. After many moments of confusion and anger, they arrived to look at the food. What lay in front of them was French toast and a beaver shaped bottle filled with what seemed to be Izzy's Happy Sap.
When all the campers had finally gotten served and sat down, they gave nervous glances to the neighbours who sat next to them and poked and prodded their food as if expecting it to self destruct on them, which, considering it was Chef's cooking, was a likely possibility. They inspected the maple syrup as well; they had learned that anything with Izzy's name on it had to be feared. But the toast was warm, spongy, and golden-brown in color as French toast was supposed to be and the syrup was a rich, dark brown, creamy, and sugary in smell. In other words, it looked like a meal your made would make you. Maybe Chef wasn't a horrible cook after all.
After drowning the toast in syrup, they put it in their mouths for a taste test. They were soon proved wrong though about him being a better cook when their satisfied faces suddenly turned to looks of disgust as they pulled out not only short, dark hairs but egg shells as well. Still though, this was still a better meal than what was usually served to them.
Bridgette was one of the very few who by chance alone had picked a piece that had little shells and hairs in it. She currently sat across from Geoff, listening and laughing at a joke he was telling her with a perfectly concealed dreamy expression. Despite her easy, going life style, she still had a sense that something wrong was going to happen but brushed off the feeling as easily as she could wave her hand. Right then and there though, she suddenly wished that she had paid attention to her warning. For suddenly, she felt someone's hand tighten on her hood and quickly pulled it down. To her horror, she felt her sun-kissed locks of blonde hair tumble from where she had messily placed it on her shoulders, to rest at her waist still damp from the shower.
'That's a bad hair day? I wish my hair was as horrible as that!" she heard someone yell from what seemed like a mile away. Laughter immediately surrounded Bridgette as well as the loud hoots and whistles she had heard earlier. She abruptly glanced quickly into Geoff's face to she a look of complete shock. Hurriedly standing up, she burst from her table and ran outside the hall into the still pouring rain. Tears of humiliation where soon mixed with the rain water as he raced back to her cabin, feeling Geoff's worried face gaze upon her.