Author's Note: To my 'TWtSoA' readers, the story is only a short hiatus until I finish downloading the new MS Word program. Right now, I have Lotus Smart Suite Word Pro, and I have yet to like this one. I am almost finished with Chapter Seven of TWtSoA, I assure you, but I do not wish to wreck havoc upon it until I have downloaded MS Word again.

Not many have sent in their feedback on the romances so until I receive enough, there will be none. And, most have voted for just none... So I may make this story a pure humorous/dramatic story.

I'm taking suggestions for her nickname. Please, I beseech you, suggest nickname ideas that sound good, not like 'Squid'. No offense to the wonderful author, but something like Squid would just piss off Ricci.

Short apology for the very short chapter, but I am in the process of writing Chapter Four, which will be much longer than this.

Chapter Three - Camp? Bad? No!...

"I think she's comin' along now."

"Her eyes are moving underneath her lids."

"You notice that?"

"Well, yeah!"

"... I live with freaks!"

"Considering you're one yourself, you shouldn't be talking!"

Getting tired of the talking around me, I came to, shouting a startlingly loud, "HEY NOW!" They all quieted in a flash. I felt slightly proud of myself to be able to silence such a large group of rowdy boys. Instantly, they began talking again, and I groaned, feeling a pounding headache begin to form.

"MOTHER OF DUCKS, SHUT UP!" I yelled, becoming increasingly annoyed. They quieted again. "So... Where am I and who are you?"

"Camp Green Lake, X-ray," one of them answered promptly. X-ray?

"Whoever named you must'a been drunk or something," I claimed huffily. The person -- who's name just happens to be Miss Ins Tinct -- in my head told me that I had already said and that I was just repeating myself. I punched it between the eyes. It quieted. Dumbass.

"Watch the ego, now, chica," another replied. "Should we start over?"

"Yeah, we probably should," I agreed. "First of all, where are the girls 'round here?" They all turned to look at each other, and I rolled my eyes. They simultaneously turned to look at me with an odd stare. Getting somewhat irritated, I queried sarcastically, "Is something in my teeth?"

"First of all, this is Camp Green Lake, correctional facility for--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that. Correctional facility for criminals. That doesn't answer my question," I cut in rudely.

"If you'd let us finish, maybe we could!" a boy retorted dryly. Insolent brat.

"--boys," someone piped up. I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "This is a correctional facility for criminal boys."

"Of all the..." I muttered under my breath as I leaned back into the pillows. I looked to the side, talking to Kiki, my imaginary duck friend. Just kidding. Actually, I just began grumbling under my breath things like "Momma was right on the singing!" "Maybe I shouldn't have left my fingerprints on the steering wheel." "Maybe I shouldn't have crashed the car into a freakin' sign."

"So!" I exclaimed after calming myself down. "Who the heck are you?"

'X-ray' stepped up again. "I'm X-ray," he proclaimed. He began pointing down the line of boys surrounding my bed. "That's Squid, Magnet, Zigzag, Zero, Armpit, and Twitch." Each of them just continued staring at me.

"Name's Ric," I said, holding out my hand for anyone who wants to shake it. Hesitantly, 'Twitch', I think, shook my hand tentatively. Slowly, they began to warm up to her, greeting her like they would any girl -- they waved, but did not much else.

"Sociable lot, aren't you?" I remarked wryly. "Just pretend I'm another guy shipped off to camp for a moment." It took a few moments of silence, but X-ray broke it by holding his hand out in the air. Recognizing the gesture, I grinned, and slapped my hand against his and pulled him towards me -- like I would with a friend. The others gained confidence, and a few just ruffled my hair. I smoothed it down for the fifth time and just half-smiled. Camp wouldn't be so bad now.

---

"Ow! UFF!" I yelped for the fourth time the following day.

"Uff?" one of the boys inquired somewhere behind me. I think it was Squid. I recognized his thick accent.

"Never good to curse!" I managed to spit out as I jumped up and down. "Uff!" Cutting your palm isn't smart, as I realized that day.

"You'll get used to the work eventually," Armpit said sympathetically, patting my sunburnt back. I had chosen to just wrap the upper part of my uniform around my waist so it wouldn't be so hot, but now I think I made a bad decision. Again. I cried out with pain, and growled at Armpit. He instantly backed away, fanning his hands slightly to try to placate me. It didn't work. My terrible mood lasted until I finished the hole (sometime around sunset) and spit it in it as tradition dictated, according to the D-tent boys.

Camp wouldn't be so bad, eh?