Marshmallows Roasting Over an Open Fire
By the Angel
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"Ooh." Christy squealed as she saw Stephanie. Stephanie walked over to where Christy was, the usual spot in the mess hall, and sat down. "Ooh." Christy squealed again. Stephanie grabbed her temples and frowned. "What?" She demanded.
Christy giggled. "Ooh!" Was all she managed to say. Stephanie threw her an icy glare. "Say ooh one more time, and I am going to—" Christy pulled out a red notice. It was crumpled and creased. "Read it." She whispered.
Smoothing out the folds, Stephanie looked at it and turned it right side up. It read:
ANNUAL CAMP TIN TREES DANCE!
FROM 6:30-11:30
In the Mess Hall! Latest songs! Disco lights! Refreshments! Bring a Date!
Stephanie looked sick to her stomach. "What's wrong? You didn't even touch the mashed potatoes." Christy said. Stephanie crumpled the notice up and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "No." She said. "No."
"No?" Christy asked. Stephanie shook her head. "Bring a date?" She sputtered. She sighed and took a sip of apple juice. "Chris is definitely going to ask me." She asked, miserable. "What makes you so sure?" Christy asked.
Stephanie snorted. "Duh, Christy—Chris kissed me on the cheek!" Christy stared ahead, blankly. "And…?" Stephanie gave her friend a cold glare. "Stephanie, I am your friend and everything, but—Not everything people do is revolved around you." Christy said, blushing.
"I am Stephanie—"
"McMahon, we know, we know."
Stephanie huffed and grabbed her things. She pushed in her chair, making a screeching noise. "To hell with everyone!" She stormed out of the Mess Hall. She was positive that Chris's eyes followed her.
Or they could have comforted Christy.
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Christy sat there, shocked, looking straight ahead. She didn't know whether she wanted to run after Stephanie, or wait for herself and her friend to cool down. Chris discreetly walked over to her. "Yikes. I saw what happened."
She nodded. "I mean, I know she's rich and high and mighty, and not used to people like me, but—" Chris nodded. "I understand." Christy sighed. "I might as well go talk to her." She got up, but Chris shook his head.
"No, let me do it." He said. "Just one thing, Christy." She nodded. "What is that?" Chris looked down to the table and blushed. "Go to the dance with me."
===
"Is this seat taken?" Chris asked. He saw Stephanie by the campfire. Stephanie looked up and shook her head. "Hey." She croaked softly. Chris took a large marshmallows from the bag and held it out to the fire.
Stephanie looked at him like he was deranged. "Aren't you going to use the stick?" She asked. He snorted. "And risk not getting burned?" She stared at him. "…Okay…"
"Listen." She started all over. "We're going to the dance together, right?" Chris frowned and took his marshmallow away from the fire as it turned brown. "No…" He began. "I kind of asked Christy."
Stephanie shot up, knocking her jacket into the fire. She didn't seem to care. "Christy? What the hell does Christy have that I don't have? She's plain, short, and chubby—"
"She is not!" Chris defended the object of his affection. "Wow, love really is blind." Stephanie retorted. Chris frowned. "Stephanie, maybe Christy is right, as much as I hate to say it." Stephanie raised an eyebrow, as if she were challenging—daring Chris to say it. "Is that so?"
Chris nodded. "You ARE a selfish rich bitch."