Hi! Poor Mr. G. lol
Mia's POV:
We finally reached camp later that day. Michael and I went into the cafeteria for an early dinner together, holding hands. For some odd reason, Mr. G kept on following us around with a camera. A couple of times I would look over at him, and he would pretend to be taking pictures of nature, or whatever. But, whatever. Michael is my boyfriend! Who cares about anything else?
Anyway, when we were eating our dinner, we saw these other teenagers coming in, too. One of them was this really tall, busty blonde (kind of like me, only I'm not busty), who's name I later found out was Carol, and who seemed like she flirted with any males she came in contact with. I immediately resolved to make sure she kept her filthy paws off my boyfriend. Not that Michael would ever cheat on me, or anything. But still. Guys are guys.
Michael's POV:
I love having Mia as a girlfriend. I can finally reach over and stroke her hair whenever I want, without making up lame excuses like, "You have something in your hair," or something. That day, when we went into the cafeteria, we met this one blonde named Carol. She seemed particularly interested in me, for some reason. Anyway, she dressed like a downright slut—she had a shirt on with a neck that barely, um, covered her up, and these super short shorts, which were definitely not finger-tip length. More like, um, wrist length. Anyway, she came right up to me, completely oblivious to the fact that I was talking to Mia, and went, "Hey, what's your name? I'm Carol." She was totally batting her eyelashes, too.
So I said, in what I hoped was a cold voice, so she would take a hint, "Michael." I stuck out my hand. She looked at it, but instead she kissed me on the cheek. Disgusting. Anyway, I was about to go, You know what, it was nice meeting you and all, but I just met you, and I already have a girlfriend, so you just go find yourself someone else. That's what I was going to say. But Mr. G walked up to us, and I got kind of distracted.
Mia's POV:
"Hey Mia," Mr. G goes, all nervous.
"What?" I wanted to know.
"Um…listen, I called your mom, and it seems like things are getting kind of…out of control with Rocky. He's, um, really, really cranky, throwing food at the walls, making a mess of things. And he won't go to sleep at night, and well…I told your mother that I would go back tonight."
"WHAT!" I shouted. "But you're the chaperone!"
"I—I know. You see, the thing is…your grandmother…she sort of got wind that you all needed a chaperone, and, well, she sort of volunteered to come down…"
"OH MY GOD!" I yelled. "Grandmére is coming here? I thought this would be the one time that I could get away from her!"
"Well, I know, Mia, but sometimes…"
I didn't hear any more of what Mr. G was saying. I was still in shock. GRANDMERE? That's not good.
All of a sudden, I felt sick to my stomach. What would she DO to us?
I didn't eat anymore of my dinner. I was too astonished. Where was she going to SLEEP? Hello! Grandmére would never go for a cabin.
Michael's POV:
Uh-oh. I had never actually met Mia's grandmother, but from what Mia had to say about her…she was something like the Wicked Witch of the West, only ten times worse. Because she was…well, she was Grandmére. What more can I say?
Mr. G's POV:
Mia was not happy with me. I mean, it was pretty much my fault that she had to spend the rest of her trip with her grandmother. I mean, I'm the one who was like, 'Oh, yeah, I'd love to go!' And now I was leaving them with…her. I am such a bad step-parent. Helen, I thought, had better be thankful.
