Katie's POV
I've gone to this camp since I was seven, and what the hell do I have to show for it? Some freaking beads and t-shirts. Yes, memories too, but, no reputation, no battle scars, no boyfriend, nothing. I'm going to make my tenth year count. I'm seventeen, I have big, bouncy, curly hair, I'm tan from living in California, I'm five foot seven, long legged, well endowed…all I need is a reputation. Besides my whole "good-girl-who-is-secretly-in-love-with-Travis-Stoll-and-effing-loves-cereal" thing. I mean, deep down, I'm a dirty little slut. I just never wanted to bring that out because it was bad. I am going to do it. Bring out my slutty side that is.
I had a 3 hours to pack, do my hair & make-up, and get slutty. OK.
I ran to my green and silver bedroom, stumbling from the flip-flops I had thrown on. I stepped over to my closet and pulled out all my loose tops, tanks, short-shorts, & anything tight. I tossed it all in my bag. I'm determined to get Travis's attention…Wait…What the hell…I hate Stoll. But he's gotten so…Hot. Oh gods…That auburn hair…those blue eyes…those defined muscles…Damnit Katie…Snap out of it. I got on the floor and got all my heels and sneakers and shoved them in. I made my way to my vanity and tossed my curling iron, straightener, and all my face make up. I needed the rest in a minute. I grabbed my brush and all my toiletries and packed them in too. I pulled on a pair of cuffed, sort, white shorts and a purple tank top. I hopped over to the vanity and lined my eyes with sparkly black eyeliner and finished off with mascara. I made my lips look bigger and better than normal, and spritzed on perfume. I checked the time. Two hours. Shit.
I walked up and down the hall checking out my reflection in the mirrored walls. I looked hot. Duh! I grabbed a snack and brushed my teeth, which were perfectly straight and white thanks to two years of braces and lots of whitening treatments. Out of nowhere, the door bell rang. I quickly grabbed my bags and flopped out the door, into my dad's Corvette, straight to the airport to meet Francesca, daughter of Aphrodite. She lived in L.A., so we both had to fly. Oh what fun…