I, like always, woke up to the annoying screeching of Duncan's watch. Instead of waiting for Duncan to do it, I shut off his alarm myself. It was an irksome little beeping, and if you leave it on for too long, it'll get stuck in your head like an annoying 80's song.

I sat up and gently shoved him awake. "Morning."

He sat up and greeted me, "Hey."

"I forgot to ask you last night: when exactly are you sneaking into Chris's trailer?"

He bit his lip, thinking, until he grinned mischievously, "I'm going to try tonight."

I got closer to him and asked in a somewhat slutty tone, "Anxious, are we?"

"Hell, yes, I am." He answered. "So, we should get back to the trailers. You have no clue who could be coming here to wash clothes in the next ten minutes."

I nodded, got up, and walked out of the door with him. As he headed off to the guys' cabin, I whistled after him. He turned back to me, and I blew him a kiss. Corny, yet it was still sweet, right?

He reached his arm up, motioned catching it, winked, and I almost felt myself melt.

That cozy, warm feeling – frankly, it caught me off guard. After we've been together for this long, the giggly high-school-sweetheart feeling should be but a distant memory.

But it wasn't gone. Having it linger around for a little while longer was honestly cute.

I walked inside the trailer and simply stared out the window. All I could see were the treetops and the sun peaking through. I grabbed my sketchbook, and instead of drawing them, I decided to use charcoal. Although I usually avoided charcoal with all costs – very messy, and usually left a black dust on your hands and clothes – but I felt that it would catch the value better. I started drawing the trees, and finished only moments before the girls woke up.

As everyone woke up, I evaluated my masterpiece. It was…okay, I suppose. As Lindsay put her sleeping mask to her side, she whined, "I miss Beth so much!"

I really didn't care, and gave her no symphony when I asked, "Do you have any hairspray?"

She gave me a befuddled look. "You never use hairspray. Why changing it up, girlie?"

"I'm not using it for coiffures."

"Of course you wouldn't use it for your chauffer. You use it on your hair."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm using it to fix the charcoal on my drawing in place."

"Oh…kay." She handed me a huge aerosol can of hairspray, labeled, "Sleek SEXY Hair," the word "SEXY" in capital letters to emphasize how SEXY you will look if you use the product.

That sort of annoyed me, especially after last night's shenanigans.

I took the hairspray and made sure it was far away from the picture so the charcoal won't be blown off the page, yet close so the hairspray could actually touch the picture. I did it correctly, and it looked nice. No matter how much you shook it, the charcoal stuck like glue. I wasn't used to using this, because my art teacher had a product in class that was made mainly for this use, not to primp your hair. He said hairspray was an alternative, yet it wasn't as effective as the real stuff.

I then decided to get dressed like the rest of us – I wore a green V-Neck shirt, a white Beatles T-Shirt, with black lettering and a green apple zipper. To match, I wore black shorts and black Converse shoes that laced up my shins and stopped just below my knee.

I sat on the bench outside until Duncan came out and slid down the railing that leads from the door of the trailer down to the ground.

I walked up to him and greeted him. After some conversation, I mindlessly blurted, "Dude, I just drew the most amazing forest. Ever."

"Shweet." He nodded. "With what?"

"Charcoal." I said, proudly.

"Where is it?"

"In my trailer."

"Can you get it? I never saw any of your drawings before."

I was a bit surprised. I thought he did. I guess I was mistaken.

"Never?" I asked.

"Nope," he shook his head. "Well…unless you count that cute little sketch of Trent you drew last season."

I glared. "That doesn't count."

He laughed as I added, "I'll get it."

I rushed back, got my sketchbook, and searched through it. Damn. I had a very detailed sketch of him I drew from memory a while back – I bit my lip. Was this: a) a cute gesture or b) a stalkeresque activity?

I went with my gut feeling – Choice B – and ripped it out, stuffing it in my pillowcase. I flipped further. Nothing else important was here – mostly still-life. There was also a sketch, the subject being the first broken bracelet. Honestly, I blushed.

I closed it and shook the sketchbook – I didn't know if Trent's envelope was here, in my journal, or somewhere unknown – and nothing fell out. Good.

I ran outside with my sketchbook sandwiched between my arm and hip. I approached Duncan and flipped it open to the drawing of the treetops.

"See?" I pointed to each detail as I mentioned it. "That's the trees outside of the trailer, and that thing right there is the sun peeking through the branches."

He nodded in approval. "Nice."

I grinned at my praise, and rushed back to throw my sketchpad on my bunk.

He then nudged my arm and pointed towards Chris, who was eating a fancy-looking omelet inside the Mess Hall.

"Be right back," Duncan said as he ran towards the woods.

"Go, go, go!" I exclaimed at the top of my lungs.

I waited there for about five minutes until he came back, panting.

"So?" I demanded. Instead of giving me a straight-forward answer, he hugged me. I yelped, and I inferred, "I guess it went well?"

He smiled. "Damn straight it did."

He lowered me done to the floor and I questioned, "How many did you get a hold of, anyway?"

He smiled. "Three."

"You're fucking awesome." I eulogized him. He smiled at my compliment.

We walked to the Mess Hall and ate breakfast – waffles. They weren't made fresh – they were Eggo waffles that weren't even cooked. Chef probably just thawed them out, mumbled, "Fuck it," and threw them on a plate to serve.

I poked them with a fork. I poured some syrup and put a dollop of butter on the waffle. I spread it all over the waffle with a fork and started eating it. It was an interesting taste.

After I was halfway done, I couldn't take it anymore. I stole a piece of rye toast from Duncan's plate and put the rest of the waffle there in its place.

"Maybe he won't notice." I said, loudly and facetiously.

"I noticed," he answered, smiling, not looking up from his plate.

I stared at him, his eyes sparkling from the light above. I loved his eye color. His eyes were teal. Teal. How many people have teal eyes?

He spotted me staring at him when he laughed, "Do you mind?"

I escaped my reverie and turned back to my toast. I spread some butter on it quickly while nervously answering, "Sorry, sorry."

Suddenly, a huge explosion shook the whole mess hall. I squeaked in nervousness – were we having an earthquake? There were no faults in Toronto. At least, none that I knew of.

Chris came in exclaiming, "Come to Set Eleven as soon as possible! Today will be an utter disaster!"

Lindsay gasped, her face contorted with fear. "Did Beth steal more of my nail polish?!"

Chris stared at her. "Hush! Hush. Ningún interrupt el Chris."

Lindsay bit the corner of her bottom lip and murmured, "Sorry, Chip."

Chris looked at her, confused, and ran to the set.