AN: Hey, I just realised that Camp Selphie has now over taken my other work in progress, Get Out of my Head, in regards to the number of reviews. Way to go Selphie! Oh, I will update GOOMH as soon as I'm done with this one. Okay?

Hehe, just reading over the requirements for this challenge. I need jealousy and a food fight…

"How's your face DuGray?" Elliot yelled from across the dining hall. A piece of bread, intended for Tristan, landed on Rory's shoulder. Tristan's eyes flashed dangerously. He picked up a handful of salad and threw it over to the Redfield table. With the Chilton table being directly between the two food throwing tables, a lot of the food landed on them.

Paris felt a slice of cheese fall down her back.

"Bad move," said Louise, as she watched Paris' eyes shake in her sockets from anger.

"Yeah, she can't touch dairy," Madeleine added.

Paris stood up and started pelting fries at both the offending tables.

A fully fledged food fight ensued, with various parents and visitors looking on in disgust as mayonnaise trickled down many of their backs.

"There are Harvard alumni here," Tristan pointed out to Rory.

"I know!" said Rory, a wicked gleam springing to her eyes as she threw some pasta over at Paris.

Tristan laughed in sheer awe of the girl who was finally casting aside sanity and giving way to fun.

Dean wisely retreated outside the hall and sat down under a tree to drink some coffee until the fighting ceased.

He raised his eyebrows in amusement as the camp director marched passed him and entered the dining hall.

"Wouldn't go in their if I was you," Dean muttered, taking another sip.

The camp director was greeted with a beef patty. As it slid down his face the hall got quiet. His moustache twitched dangerously.

"Who's responsible for this?" he yelled.

Various fingers were pointed in numerous directions.

"Right! This table and this table," she said indicating the Chilton and Merlet tables, "You will stay behind and clean this mess up. Never in my life have I seen such a lack of integrity! I'm so sorry," he said going over to the parents and esteemed guests. "Honestly, I don't know what got into them. Let me show you to our wash rooms."

The camp director threw a furious glance over his shoulder as he escorted them out. "Have this place cleaned up in fifteen minutes or tonight's bonfire is cancelled," he threatened. With a final huff he was out the door.

The dining hall erupted in laughter. It seems a food fight was just what was needed to relieve the stress and pressure that most the students were put under by their headmasters.

Many of the schools, with the exception of Redfield, stayed back to help clean up.

"You have carrot in your hair," said Tristan, pulling the orange chunk from Rory's hair.

"And you have ranch dressing on your collar," said Rory, wiping it away with a napkin.

Dean walked in as their eyes met in genuine warmth and fondness towards each other. Dean sat down, and started gulping down the coffee to brace himself for what he was about to do.

****

Fifteen minutes later:

"Rory, we need to talk," said Dean as she approached him

"I can't right now, Dean," she apologised. "I've got to get cleaned up before the tug-of-war starts. It's on the main oval. Meet me there, alright?"

Rory ran away in the direction of her cabin before Dean could get a word in.

****

"Alright team. Ten points for the winner, not that we need them," said Paris as the Chilton team surrounded her. Paris figured there was no way for them to lose the trophy this year, with Redfield out of the competition. "Did everybody do those twenty pushups I told you to do this morning?"

The group nodded, even though none of them had.

They were set up against Trisbourn.

"Piece of cake," said Paris, eyeing the puny arms of the competition.

Rory waved over at Dean, who had found a grassy patch among the dirt to sit on. He mouthed good luck at her and smiled.

Chilton easily beat the Trisbourn girls and were now up against Riddly, who had beaten Berchmoore in their round.

The whistle blew and the tug-of-war was on. The two teams were evenly matched, with ten boys and ten girls on each team.

Dean found himself on his feet and stamping with the rest of the crowd, cheering on Chilton.

Riddly managed to get the red ribbon over the line and the whistle blew.

"Never mind," said Paris, rather calmly. "We still have the debate."

"Too bad," said Dean, putting an arm around Rory.

"Yeah."

"Hey, Tristan's school is up," Dean said.

They fought their way through the crowd to get a good view.

"Good luck Tristan," Rory yelled.

"Yeah good luck Tris," cheered a red haired girl a few meters away from her. Tristan looked over at this girl and smiled.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked

"Came to see you of course," the girl shouted back.

"Take your places," yelled the starter.

Dean watched as Rory's face showed flickers of jealousy and anger towards the new girl.

The whistle blew and Rory's face snapped back to the tug-of-war.

The man team of Merlet was too forceful for the match to last more than five seconds. It was over, and Redfield took Riddly's position at the rope.

"Wow, they look mean," Dean commented on Redfield team.

"Positions please," yelled the starter.

The whistle blew. Rory could see Tristan's muscles straining at the brute of the force coming from Redfield.

Marcus had a blood vessel getting more prominent as the event wore on. Neither team was relenting and the red ribbon stayed in dead centre.

"Come on Merlet," Dean cried. "Redfield's a bunch of wussies!"

Rory turned around to look at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean, go Merlet!" Dean said meekly.

Rory could see Elliot's feet sliding forward ever so slightly. He leaned heavily on the guy behind him before falling on the ground, the rest of his team-mates being pulled on top of him.

"That's what you get for being ugly," Louise shouted at Elliot. She went over to kick some dirt on him but was restrained by Madeleine.

"Merlet-winners!" announced the starter. "Ten points."

The crowd looked up at the leader board as the gap between Chilton and Merlet was narrowed to a margin of 3 points in Chilton's favour.

Rory looked over at Paris who as still showing no signs of worry.

"I've gone against Tristan before. I'll win," she said confidently.

"Aren't the scorings different for the debate?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, your actual score is the number of points you get," Henry answered.

"Merlet would have to beat us by more than three points to win," Paris said. "Not gonna happen."

"How can you be sure?" Dean said.

"I don't plan on getting a score under seventeen," Paris said. "Even with a perfect score, they would still only tie at the best. The panel NEVER gives out perfect scores. Ever."

"Ever?" Rory repeated.

"Not in the entire history of this camp," Paris informed them. "I've got to go prepare. I'll see you all at the debate."

As Rory watched Paris exit the field she also noted Tristan's retreating figure with his arm around that other girl.