Em: This is Lolly and Emily here, once again reporting for duty.

This is what happens when you're hopped on the Q, as we say on the streets. A.K.A Neslie's Quick.


Lolly: What the hell, Em? I do NOT understand you.

Love, Em and Lolly.

- 8 -

I awoke to the sun streaming directly in my eyes. I winced against the light, turning around, because my face was burning.

Great. I would be awoken for the next twelve weeks to the lovely sensation of third degree burns on my face.

God knows my FEET have already had enough of that.

I sat up tiredly, and saw that Emily was still asleep, snoring very softly. Her hair was sprinkled all over her pillow, and she actually looked really pretty while she was asleep. Not that she didn't awake, but . . . she just looked peaceful. And innocent.

And like someone who HADN'T streaked repeatedly in her lifetime.

I smoothed down my own red hair, and hoped to God that I didn't have a face to match, thanks to the sun's killer rays. I slumped to the corner and grabbed my shower stuff and my change of clothes - MORE uniform - and headed for the shower blocks to wake myself up. It was almost six o'clock. I was very keen on showering before all the other less-than-benevolent girls showed up.

Once I'd washed off all of my sleepiness, I got out, my towel wrapped firmly around me. I dried, got changed, and headed back to my cabin, where Emily was STILL sleeping. Wow, this was exciting.

Sighing, I started to remember the night before, and instantly regretted what I'd said to Paul. I'm not a fan of guilt. It really eats at me. I have a CONSCIENCE, unlike some.

So, unhappily, I scrawled a note on the back of one of my precious note papers that mum gave me for letter writing, and I went jogging to the other side of the lake. Jason had told me where his cabin was, and that Paul in there too, so I knew where I was headed.

Once at cabin 666, I went to the window and peaked in.

Paul was still asleep, right below the glass.

God, he looked hot when he w -

SUZE.

He'd opened the window, presumably for air. I shoved the paper in, and then scampered away.

Because I'm sorry, but just because Paul left his brother for dead, it wasn't right for me to proclaim that around.

. . . And I felt badly about it. And if I was going to spend the next twelve weeks with him, I wanted him to be bearable.

I jogged a couple of times around the lake, before stopping, panting, and lying back on the jetty.

I shut my eyes again.

It had to have been around ten when I finally woke up. I hadn't waken up at ten since I was twelve or so.

Light filtered in through all the three windows in our cabin, causing me to flinch. I rubbed my eyes and reached for my bag.

'Paul, you better hurry up. We have archery in fifteen minutes,' Bruce informed me.

I commended him for not bursting an obscenity out, and then I proceeded to get dressed.

It wasn't until I was putting my watch on and straightening my sleeping bag when I noticed a piece of pink paper with 'Paul' scribbled on the front.

I cocked an eyebrow and thought to myself, "This should be interesting."

Unfolding it, I read:

"Paul: I'm sorry about last night. I'm sorry about everything, as a matter of fact. I'm just so stupid sometimes. What I really wanted to say last night was that I want you to have your way with me. I want to FEEL your arousal caressing my inner-"

As Suze once asked me, "How ARE things on planet You Wish?"

Seriously, the letter just said this: "Paul. I'm sorry about last night. What I said was true-I mean, uncalled for, and I shouldn't have said it in front of all those people. My apologies, Suze."

Slightly more boring, and almost as unoriginal as the other Simpson daughter's material. I crumbled it up and chucked it in the trash basket.

Bullshit.

That's what I have to say to that heartfelt sentiment.

I shook it off and walked over to the archery range. It was completely ridiculous how they had all these 'organized' activities for all of the juveniles here. Most of us are of age anyway. But didn't they realize that if an adult tells a rebel to do something, the child's immediate reaction is to do the opposite?

So by organizing safe, FUN activities for the delinquents here, they are burying themselves deeper into the ground.

A group of kids, including Jason, Trent, and Bruce were hanging out by the equipment when I arrived. 'What's going on?' I asked Trent. 'We're waiting for instruction,' he answered, keeping his eyes directed at some girl a few meters away who looked like she could play punk rock princess to his garage band king.

I mean, prince. That song pisses me off for that reason. Get your royalty straight.

'Good point,' I said. 'Oh well . . . I already totally have a boyfriend.'

Emily's eyes sparked with interest. 'I'm assuming, not Slater.'

'GOD no,' I gagged. 'Nah, a guy called Jesse.'

She smiled prettily. 'With a name like that, it must be good.' I laughed and threw the other knuckle duster at her shoulder.

By the time Em and I finally got outdoors again, it was 10.15. I'd straightened my hair and everything. Emily said this was risky, seeing as Miffy apparently believed hair straighteners were dangerous for those who self harmed, but . . . oh well. I guess Le Miffster hadn't searched my bags hard enough. I did, however, find that some of my pad packets had been searched through.

How grossly violating.

The sun was beating down now, and the lake shimmered.

'So,' Em said, shoving me a little, 'Our group has archery.'

' . . . Group?' I asked.

'Yeah,' she said. 'We're in the M-S section. Our groups are all sorted by our last names. Jason's in ours, thank God. The M's just scraped in, because there's not many of them.'

'Uh huh,' I muttered slowly.

Em guided me out to the archery grounds. I saw that there were people flocking all around equipment. There were target boards for the arrows all lined up near the forest. Apparently, they were waiting for the supervisor to show up.

'I hope to God it's not Miffy,' Emily prayed under her breath.

'ALL RIGHT, MAGGOTS, STOP FOOLING AROUND,' a voice roared masculinely.

Emily groaned. 'Damn.'

I looked up. Okay, I'll admit, I wasn't exactly at peace with Miffy. Whatever it was, IT creeped me out. I still firmly believe that she/he would to rape me when no one was looking.

Note to Self: Stay with crowd.

I scanned over the people that were already there, and my eyes landed on her.

Yeah, her. That's one girl that I can DEFINITELY say is female.

However, seeing as I was less than impressed with HER at the moment, (not physically. Sorry, she was always very impressive physically,) I glared until she caught my eye, before looking away coldly.

As I've said, I don't like being accused of attempting homicide on Jack.

I've felt the very compulsive URGE to, sure. But I didn't go out of my way to try and kill him.

That would involve me caring about whether he was alive or not. And sorry, but I didn't particularly care about that.

Jason, who was trying to act cool around me - you know, not talking and crap, doing to the guy thing - suddenly grinned and ran over to Emily, jumping on her back and making her fall over. She started laughing.

Remind me to try that with Suze.

. . . Or not.

Jason suddenly showed up on the scene, nearly killing Emily in the process.

'Hey,' he grinned, attacking me by throwing an arm around my shoulders, 'You survived the night, Suze. Congrats.'

'MARTNIK!' Miffy yodelled, 'HANDS TO YOURSELF.'

Jason slid his arm away from me, unphased. 'Sorry Miff,' he yelled.

WHAT? So I get thrown in isolation for touching Suze, and HE DOESN'T?

I think there's a little bit of FAVORITISM going on. Miffy obviously doesn't punish the guys she/he/it doesn't want to screw until the early hours.

I crossed my arms, glaring at Jason. Who the HELL did he think he was? If anyone should have got in trouble for Suze-Simon-groping, it was ME and ONLY me. She was MY turf. Jason could go f -

'OKAY, STRAIGHT LINES, YOU PIECES OF CRAP. GET INTO YOUR LETTER GROUPS. M's in front of ME, N's over there and SO ON - '

Shit. Suze was an S. I was an S. So was Emily. That meant we'd end up in the same group. And I'd hear more of her pathetic apologies.

Aloofly, I made my way over there. Suze was looking at me sadly for a second, before determinedly turning away.

Hey - PINE a little LONGER PLEASE?

Paul came to stand in the S line, at the very back. He wasn't talking to me. Maybe he hadn't gotten my letter? Oh well, he probably had and was deciding to be immature about it. What did I care?

Yeah, I DIDN'T. Care factor zero. So what if I'd pissed him off a little? He totally deserved it.

He was acting all cocky and arrogant and . . . making me feel hot and stuff, and - he SO deserved to be put back in his place. I mean, there's only so much leaning I can take.

You know, leaning? Paul does that all the time. He like . . . leans. Over me. He makes my heart skip a beat, and suddenly I can't breathe, and the memories of the last time he kissed me flood in completely, and for one moment in time I'm frozen with heat and paralyzed with the lingering sensations of his lips on mine, and how much I hated it and how much I loved it, and how much I wanted him to do it again . . .

THEN I REMEMBER THAT I AM NOT AVAILABLE AND THAT PAUL IS A MAN-WHORE WHO HAS KISSED KELLY PRESCOTT AND - I mean, HOW am I supposed to even THINK about kissing someone who's swapped saliva with PRINCESS KELLY? I mean, I can't DO that. It's immoral and gross and . . . eww.

So I hate it when he leans. Because his eyes flash in that way that they did when he had me on his bed, beneath him. And it scares me. For a second, it makes me feel like, if he did kiss me again, I wouldn't have the strength or the willpower to resist.

For a single moment, I feel like that.

And that vulnerability is terrifying. Especially where Paul Slater is concerned.

Arrogantly, I took my spot in line and flashed a smile at Suze. Then, making it seem like it didn't matter to me at all, I turned towards her.

'Got your letter,' I informed her. 'Wanna know what I think of it?'

Suze appeared to be casually indifferent, or nonchalant, as she usually is where I'm concerned.

I blinked coolly. 'Oh?'

I leaned in closer to her, and felt her body shudder. Two guesses what she shuddered from, and let's just say fear was looking like the wrong guess.

'I think it's fucking bullshit,' I whispered. 'That's what I think. You don't have a sorry bone in your entire body.'

I looked up at him, tensing severely.

OKAY, DID HE CATCH A STRAY THOUGHT OR SOMETHING?

Jerking my eyes away from his lips, I stepped back. 'Screw you, then. I don't care,' I said. 'I actually WAS sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean, I don't like hurting y - you know what?' I snapped, 'Forget it. You're right. I'm not sorry.'

I turned away angrily, torn between hurt, fury and . . . well, that thing I always felt when he was that close to me. My breath shuddered slightly when I released it. Emily was putting her knuckle dusters on her other hand, and wasn't paying attention.

'SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU,' Miffy bellowed at the lot of us. I jumped a little, and Paul laughed at me. He'd seen. I tossed a glare back at him, and was slightly startled by the hateful look in his eye.

I'm sorry, but . . . it hurt a little.

Facing forward again, I saw that Miffy had grabbed a kid from the P's by his arm.

'OKAY,' Miffy instructed, 'Archery.' She shoved a bow at the guy. 'Stand up STRAIGHT, Pritchard,' she scowled, swatting his lower back with an arrow. He swore violently under his breath, jerked away, but stood up all the same. Emily rolled her eyes. 'I really, really hate that creature,' she said bitterly.

'First thing about archery is, you're NOT to try and attack people with these arrows. I know you're the scum of the earth - you wouldn't be here if you weren't, but if ANY of you attempt to hurt someone else, the isolation chamber will look like Barbie and Ken on a picnic.'

Um.

'You need to visualise a line,' she went on. 'Your shooting line. Take your arrow - ' she shoved it at Pritchard's hand, who scowled at her, 'and nock it in the center of your bowstring.'

WHAT DOES NOCK MEAN?

'Feet shoulder width apart, and put your left OR right foot 5-10 inches back . . . '

And on she went, making the Pritchard dude do whatever she was saying. He looked pretty freaked. She had another arrow in her hand and was whacking him on the back whenever he did something wrong.

'This isn't fair,' I said, horrified. 'This is like . . . slavery or something.'

'That,' Emily sighed, 'is Miffy.'

I noticed.

'If you have any questions concerning archery, ask me. If you have any questions relating to anything else, keep 'em to yourselves,' Miffy explained.

Wow. That speech brought a tear to my eye. Not.

Despite myself, maybe it was the rebellious air that seemed to be choking me, I clapped my hand in mock applause.

Miffy turned on her heels and glared at me. 'That's a warning, Slater,' she spat.

'Now, if that's all,' she continued, 'you may proceed. Bows are over in the right pile, arrows are at the various stations. Remember to have fun.'

She then walked off with the other counselors and I distinctly recall having seen her pull out a cigarette and light it up.

I grabbed a bow and headed to one of the vacant targets, ignoring the rage that was flowing through me. I didn't even know why I was so pissed at Suze.

All I knew was that somehow the target looked suspiciously like Suze's back.

And, hopefully, this arrow would stab her right in the middle of it. Just like she did to me.

Paul shoved in front of everyone, and went to one of the targets that was free. Me and Emily exchanged looks, before I rolled my eyes.

I began trying to NOCK my arrow, but I couldn't. I didn't know why. It kept falling off.

My God, I SUCKED at this.

'Emily,' I groaned, 'I can't - it keeps falling - '

'MARTNIK,' Emily yodeled, 'Get your ass over here!'

Jason, who'd just shot a PERFECT BULLSEYE - I kid you NOT - traipsed over happily after dropping his bow. 'Yerp?'

Emily nodded at me. 'Newbie's having trouble.'

I blushed a little. 'Um,' I said, 'The arrow keeps falling - '

He laughed. 'The bow string's way too loose. Here . . . ' he took it from me and tightened it.

I watched silently. When he was done, he handed it back to me.

I put the arrow against the string again -

'Suze, you're holding it upside down,' Jason snorted. 'Look, come here.'

I did so. Suddenly, I felt his arms go around mine, and he placed his hands over mine. 'Hold it there,' he commanded, pressing his fingers over mine.

My hand grasped to the string of the bow, I channeled every ounce of rage into making sure this arrow would hit that bulls eye. I remembered how she rejected me after we made-out in my room. I remembered how she rejected me when we first met. I remembered last night.

Steady . . . steady . . .

PHOINK!

My arrow ended up shooting up and way past the target because my concentration snapped.

Suze was giggling. And with a quick glance, I saw who was the stimulus to this disturbing response.

One word: Jason.

I did so, a little nervously. I mean . . . yeah, I was a little nervous. Jason Martnik had a dick, after all.

'Okay,' he breathed in my ear, 'Hold the string - no, not that finger, just these ones - like this . . . '

He showed me. I could feel his chest against my back. I smiled a little, secretively. Hehehe . . .

'What?' he asked, when a immature giggle escaped me.

'Nothing,' I said, 'Uh - your breath, it's . . . tickling my ear.'

He grinned at me. His face was really close to mine. I felt ever so slightly hot. Oh, golly.

I looked next to me, and saw that Emily was staring at me, her expression stony and blank. She quickly looked away when she saw me looking.

. . . Oh.

OH. Oh, crap.

Quickly, I let the arrow go, and it zoomed through the air expertly, landing JUUUUUUUUUST on the tip of the target. Oh well, I GOT THE BOARD, DIDN'T I?

. . . YEAH.

'Thanks,' I said quickly, moving away from Jason. I glanced at Emily, and saw that she's was peaking at the two of us discreetly. Jason looked a little put out. 'Oh . . . yeah, that's cool. So, you can do it now?'

I nodded quickly. 'Yeah, thank you.'

He saluted jokily, before, going back to the M's.

I bit my lip, and then picked up my bow again. Arrows were flying through the air, and kids were randomly doing victory dances when their arrows made the targets. Miffy was standing on the side of the S's, glaring at Paul, who was up the front, and was now shooting pretty much flawlessly.

Screw him. He thinks that I don't mean it when I say sorry . . . just because HE never does, doesn't mean that I don't when I say it.

I aimed my bow again -

'MOVE BACK SLATER, YOU'RE TOO FAR FORWARD,' Miffy snapped.

God, PICKING on him much?

He did so grudgingly, until he was standing next to me.

'So what was that back there?' I asked Suze casually. We were, after all, practically on top of each other because Miffy has this whole out to get me vibe going on. 'Didn't you hear Miffy say that if you were having trouble with this activity, you were to ask her?'

I glared at him. 'Shut up,' I snapped, 'I'm concentrating.'

'It's hard to concentrate when the object of your affection won't let you, isn't it?' I asked her, keeping my gaze and concentration on the target in front of me.

My heart in my throat, I asked nonchalantly, 'So what's the deal? You like him or something? That'd be quite a blow to de Silva, wouldn't you say?'

Angrily, I lowered my bow. 'I don't like anyone except Jesse. So IF anyone likes me, they'll be sadly disappointed, because I love Jesse. And I'm committed to him - '

I let the bowstring go and watched as the arrow whizzed through the air finally puncturing the target dead on.

'Let's make a bet,' I marveled, placing all of my equipment down on the ground. 'We'll bet on your next shot. If you make a bulls eye, you choose Jesse. If you miss, you choose me.'

I laughed at her stunned expression. 'I just figured since you can't seem to make up your mind, let's let fate do it.'

'No way,' I said. 'Let's NOT make a bet. Because, I just learned how to shoot one of these things. Or - lets make it if I GET the bulls eye, it's you, and if not, it's Jesse. God knows there's a hell of a lot more change that I like Jesse than YOU,' I said in disgust.

I added, 'No telling whether I'll actually TRY to get the bulls eye.'

I raised an eyebrow, 'Are you trying to tell me in your sick and twisted sense of sentiment that you choose me?'

'What?' I asked, bewildered. 'No. Why the hell would anyone choose you over Jesse?'

I tossed my hair.

'What? Are you scared, Simon?' I asked her, leaning against the arrow canister. 'Because to me, it sounds like you're doubting yourself. And that's not healthy. Where's that good sense of self-esteem we've come to know and love?'

I shook my head at him in awe. God, this guy amazed me. He was so . . . FULL of it. 'Okay . . . you are making a lot less sense than usual. Anyway, what's with you? I thought you were all with the hating of Suze Simon today, seeing as we've both established that I'm not sorry about what I said. At least, you don't believe I am.'

'I am still all with the hating of Suze Simon,' I told her. 'But we're like a married couple. Our relationship, I mean. We have our fights, but it still doesn't change the fact that I have feelings for you.'

I sighed and added, 'Will you just shoot the damn arrow?'

Something kind of violent went through me. This . . . feeling. It hurt, and felt wonderful at the same time. 'Fine,' I narrowed my eyes. 'If I get the bullseye, it's Jesse.'

Please, oh God, oh please . . .

I aimed.

Imagine a line . . . come on, Suze, DON'T screw this up . . .

He has feelings for me . . .

I poised myself to let go –

It was at about this time I heard some thundering laughter. At first I thought it was Emily because her laugh was so loud and quite obnoxious sometimes, but then I noticed Emily wasn't exactly smiling.

It was when I looked up that I realized that the laughing wasn't coming from Emily at all. It was coming from our very own CHF poltergeist.

In the light of day, I noticed that this dead chick was pretty hot. Well, for someone that lived during the 1700's. Not that I'd ever get involved with a ghost. Come on. Give me some credit.

'Susanna, you will go down in flames the way I went down. And when you die, I hope to see you in HELL!'

(A/N: No, we didn't misspell the name.)

What the - ?

At this point, I was ready for this chick to whip out some weird firey thing she had going on. Or even whip out the lethal saliva.

I was so transfixed by this ghost, I hadn't even noticed Jason turn away from what he was doing when this ghost spoke.

The moment those words exited her mouth, Suze let go of the arrow. Instead of going in a straight path, it took a deliberate left, defying all logic, and landed right in Miffy's ass.

Then, to make matters worse, as Miffy howled in pain, Ghost Chick just up and disappeared.

OH. MY. GOD . . .

THAT DID NOT JUST -

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!' Miffy shrieked, sounding every bit the man she looked. She fell foreward on her knees, screeching, 'GET IT OUT OF ME!'

I should have. I mean - I shot it there. But I was too horrified. My hand was clapped over my mouth, and my eyes were so wide that they were full circles.

'Oh my God,' I squeaked.

You know how when something surreal happens everything seems to go very sloooowly? Well, it seemed that way now.

Urgently, I pulled Suze towards me and hissed, 'Suze, we have serious trouble. That arrow didn't shoot Miffy all on its own. It had a little help from our Camp Happy Face ghost.'

'Oh my God,' I repeated, not hearing Paul, staring at the howling, screeching, writhing Miffy on the grass. Suddenly, Miffy crawled around, her eyes on FIRE.

They locked on me.

'SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMON!' she roared.

I had to smirk. Ha-ha, this was one situation I was getting Scott-free –

'And YOU,' Miffy's eyes snapped to Paul, who blanched. She removed the arrow from her own hind cheek, through it on the floor ferociously, and stormed over before seizing me by the wrist, and Paul by the scruff of his shirt.

She was tearing up, and was almost frothing at the mouth in rage. 'YOU TWO ARE - '

'He didn't DO anything!' I protested, my voice high.

Miffy swelled up. 'SHUT UP, SIMON.'

Everyone had gone deadly silent. Then, Miffy began jerking us away from the archery field roughly. I almost tripped at one stage, but she only dragged my back up.

'Let GO of my wrist - ' I squealed. She was HURTING it!

GOD DAMN IT.

'She's actually telling the truth on this one,' I flipped, not able to believe that I was being blamed for something I didn't even do. Well, you attract more flies with honey than you do vinegar.

'You have to believe me, Miffy,' I said sweetly. 'Miffy. Is that some kind of nickname? I would imagine that a fine woman of your stature would have a much finer name behind the nickname.'

As she was dragging us through the forest, I looked down and guiltily saw a small spot of blood on her enormous rear. Her behind wobbled from side to side as she thundered through the folliage with us.

I COULD NOT BELIEVE THAT PAUL WAS TRYING TO SUCK UP.

'SLATER, IF YOU DO NOT SHUT THE HELL UP, I - ' she halted, and saw a large building in front of her. Behind it, was the glittering lake.

'The pair of you are CLEANING out the shed,' she threatened madly. 'And if it is NOT SPOTLESS BY FOUR O'CLOCK, YOU WILL REALLY KNOW THE MEANING OF CORPORAL PUNISHMENT.'

I smiled for effect, 'Miffster-can I call you Miffster?-don't be so harsh on us. We only want to-'

'You're going to want to run away in a moment if you don't get your ugly mugs out of my sight! SPOTLESS. BY FOUR! AND FORGET ABOUT LUNCH.'

B-but . . . lunch . . . ?

And with that, she tossed us into the shed, and huffed away, rubbing her hindquarters every once in awhile.

'Bitch,' I muttered. 'Who're you callin' ugly?'

After she'd thrown us in the shed, and I'd tripped over an ore that was on the ground, I grumbled, and winced.

'She can't DO that,' I whimpered.

'Apparently she can, and she did,' I fumed, chucking a rock I had found at the shed in which we were to clean. It was a PIGSTY. There was shit EVERYWHERE.

'I didn't even DO anything this time. Absolute NOTHING,' I continued.

'I know,' I agreed reluctantly. 'I mean, neither did I - '

'Oh, no,' I interrupted, shaking my head furiously, and kicking at some more moss. 'It was YOUR arrow which ghost girl used to propel in Miffy's ass. Somehow, it's always your fault.'

I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. 'Look,' I continued, 'I'll get the left side of this shed; you take the right. Keep your distance. I'm a little angry at the moment.'

Alarmed, I stood up. Then I got pissed.

'It was NOT my fault!' I scowled, stamping my foot in fury. 'And STOP being such a loser, God! I TRIED to get you out of it, okay? So DON'T TAKE IT OUT ON ME.'

'Believe me,' I snorted, beginning to move boating and fishing equipment away so I could reach the buckets they were hiding. I took hold of two and began walking down towards the lake to fill them up. 'If there was anyone else here, I would take my anger out on them, but seeing as how it's just the two of us, you'll have to do.'

I shot him a very dirty look. 'Fine,' I sniffed. 'Don't talk to me.'

I went to my side, and pulled out a hideous pile of nets. I started trying to pull them apart from each other. I kept getting tangled. I shoved the freshly folded nets into a pile. Two down . . . thirty something more to go.

Maybe I should dye my hair blue next time . . .

- 8 -

For what seemed like the last eight DAYS, Suze and I were busy cleaning out the supply shed. There seemed to be an endless suply of debris just cluttered everywhere.

And with the hot West Coast sun, let's just say our time at The Shed was no picnic in the park.

Earlier, I had taken my shirt off due to the heat, but when I found there were no sponges, I decided to use it as a handy wash rag to clean up the dust, dirt, condoms, etc. on the floor.

It was while I was scrubbing down one of the fishing nets that a thought had occurred to me.

'Hey,' I called over at Suze. We hadn't talked since our last debate. 'You missed.'

'What?' I snapped. I'd been drawn out of my mesmerizing, repetetive task of stacking the canoes. God knows how I managed that on my own.

I looked over at him angrily.

I smirked at her angered expression. God, she could hold onto a grudge. Sure, I was still pissed at her, but the situation at hand seemed too good to be true.

Just Suze and I.

In an abandoned shed.

Miles away from the rest of the camp.

Who could be angry about THAT?

'Your arrow,' I restated. 'When you shot your arrow, it missed the target.'

'Yeah,' I admitted sourly, shoving the canoe against the nine others a little more aggressively than necessary, 'But that was only because of . . . ghostly intervention. So it TOTALLY doesn't c . . . uhhh.'

I'd just caught sight of his chest.

Oh God, what a chest . . .

SUZE, LOOK AWAY, YOU CHEST-RAPIST.

I hurriedly grabbed another canoe and hoisted it up so it was vertical.

'You know what that means then?' I asked, letting my shirt slip from my hand. Dodging kayaks hanging from the ceiling, and fishing poles on the ground, I made my way over to where Suze was.

When she shook her head, I moved so I was only a few feet away from her. 'It means, doll, that you chose me.'

'Um,' I said dully - I HOPED it was dull - 'No, I didn't. And don't EVER call me "doll" again, please. And - ' PUT A SHIRT ON . . . NO, WAIT, DON'T - 'I already said, I'd never choose you over him. Ever.'

I laughed as I heard her stumble over her words nervously. This girl could go from hard-ass bitch to startled fawn in seconds. It intrigued me.

'Suzie,' I said sensually, gliding a finger down her arm. Instantly, goosebumps appeared. She shivered. I smiled in a sinister manner, 'it doesn't matter what you say, fate chose me . . . Doll.'

'Okay,' I spun around fiercely, freaking. It was happening again. WHY did this always have to HAPPEN when he touched me? WHY? 'I believe I JUST said not to - '

'And I believe,' I said darkly, grabbing both of Suze's wrists, and then jamming her against the wall, making sure the other parts of her wouldn't move by pressing my lower body into hers. I smiled at her, immensely enjoying the feel of her against me, 'That you also said you didn't choose me. Nothing you say can be figured for the truth.'

My stomach fell away completely, and my lips started shaking. I could feel his knee between my legs. This demonic little moan weaseled its way out of me, and my breath caught in my throat. 'Paul,' I said, 'Back away from the girl, please.'

Well, "said" is a bit optimistic for what I did. It didn't really sound like a voice, after all. More like this breathy, crappy sound, a result of him being WAY too close to me, screwing up all of my senses and rationality.

I could feel his chest against mine. And I'm sorry to say, it did not feel horrible.

Not at ALL.

'Why?' I asked, releasing one of her arms, and brushing her lips with my now free thumb. 'Is there something in your religion that doesn't allow feelings of arousal to occur inside?'

INSIDE WHAT? COZ DANG, THING'S WERE OCCURRING.

This feral, EVIL little gasp slid out of me, and my stomach flipped over and over when his thumb came into contact with my mouth. I jammed my eyes shut. Maybe it was his eyes . . . maybe if I didn't look at his icy, light, hypnotic eyes, I could withstand it better, and figure out how to process enough thought to plot a way to get away from him before something bad happened . . .

But I still reckon it was the chest.

'Because if there is,' I spoke softly, allowing my hand to cup her face and then slowly graze its way down her neck, 'Don't worry.'

My lips touched hers only briefly. I had to build suspense, you know? It's not easy being a Sex God sometimes. Actually, it's not easy when you're turned on to the point that even a naked Miffy would have you go off the deep end.

I retracted my mouth, and whispered into her ear, 'What I have planned won't hurt. But you'll still be sinning, I guess, because it'll be pretty damn arousing.'

'Paul, stop it - '

And I swear to God, we were THAT close to kissing.

We were both in the mood too. Suze's breaths were coming out raspier and quicker, and my eyelids became heavy which usually makes me look like a crazed psycho when I'm filled with unbridled passion.

But right then and there, the two of us were flung across the shed to the other side.

I hit the wall pretty forcefully, as did Suze, and we both ended up on a pile on the floor; Suze on top.

Oh, GOD.

Someone really, REALLY hates me.

I mean, yes. I know that it is perfectly wrong to want to even THINK about kissing . . . HIM.

But he was just so - he had made me feel all . . . you know? And it was killing me, NOT kissing him when he was having such a deadly affect on me.

And then to NOT, to - to be INTERRUPTED LIKE THAT, was torture.

I landed heavily on him, panting still from the near-tongue endeavour that would have occurred seconds ago. Before you could say "hot 'n' heavy," I was scrambling off of him, flushed, humiliated and desperately wanting for him to be -

SUZE, PLEASE, DON'T DO THIS TO YOURSELF.

'What the hell?' I blurted, looking around the room at whoever the culprit was that interrupted our passion surge.

However, once again, someone hated me, because my foot was caught in one of my impeccably folded nets.

I crawled off of him so HE could get up, before trying to get my foot free. However, my hands were shaking from the sudden disappointment after such anticipation - I SWEAR TO GOD, I'M GOING TO HELL FOR THIS - and it wasn't really working out very well.

I gingerly grasped her entangled foot's ankle and yanked it out of the net.

'Stay here,' I commanded, getting up slowly and heading towards the door. 'I'm gonna go outside and check what's up.'

'Um,' I murmured, not looking him in the eye. He rose to his feet, and went to the front of the shed. I tried to tame the horribly amazing, lingering womanly feelings. God, I am SUCH a skank.

'I'm betting ten to one that that little stunt was thanks to our new friend CHF the ghost,' I said not really paying attention to what I was doing, which was furiously attempting to open the door which just wouldn't open. 'I'm just gonna take a walk around the perimeter of the place and--why the HELL WON'T THIS DOOR OPEN?'

WHY WAS HE ACTING LIKE HE HAD NOT BEEN ABOUT TO KISS ME?

Was I the ONLY one who was still incredibly jittery because of that?

Suze, GET OVER IT.

I kicked at it in my frustration, and said to Suze, 'Great, looks like she locked us in here too.'

'What IS it with women and their damn grudges?' I roared, trying once again to open the door with, once again, no luck.

I stood up nervously, supporting myself on the beam that ran all the way around the wall. Brushing my hair back, I attempted to steal back dignity.

I swore loudly. You can't just STOP me from making-out with the Adonis of women, and then lock me in a stinking lake shed on top of that. It's not fair, let alone just.

After I'd got a grip on myself - in the LEAST disgusting way possible - I dared to move forward. 'Let me try,' I said quietly. I grabbed the handle for the door, and pushed down on it, hard.

No go.

I shoved against the door angrily, but only proceeded to hurt my shoulder.

'Damn it,' I sighed. 'This is . . . not cool. It's just the handle is jammed from moving down, I don't think it's locked. Maybe if we both try . . . ?'

I turned my head a little, and saw that Paul, who was RIGHT behind me - oh God help me and my wild hormones - nodded, before pressing down on the handle with both hands, his arms around me.

OKAY, THAT WAS ONLY A WHOLE LOT DISCTRACTING?

'On the count of three, we'll both push down, okay, Simon?' I asked, ignoring the scent of her hair that had my nerves doing back flips and front flips. God, if I just moved my head forward, I could have easily trailed a kiss down her neck...

'Mmm-hmm?' I said in petrified agreement. God, that CHEST was LEANING AGAINST ME. SUE ME IF I WAS RENDERED SLIGHTLY WORDLESS, OKAY?

'One. Two . . . three -'

On three, the two of us were once again thrown against the opposite wall when our hands came in contact with the handle. This time, I was on top. I preferred it that way.

OW?

I sighed, got off of Suze, and leaned against the wall closing my eyes. Okay, this was old.

'Wake me up when someone finds us, alright, Doll?'

Okay, maybe it was the pent up sexual frustration that was TOTALLY his fault, but I completely sucker punched him.

'DON'T CALL ME "DOLL," SLATER,' I snarled at him.

'OW!' I roared, nursing my throbbing stomach. 'What the hell is your problem, Simon? If you're pissed because we didn't get to making-out, well, join the freaking club, but don't take your sexual frustrations out on me, alright?'

I whirled away from him, positively SHAKING, I was so mad.

'SHUT UP,' I said furiously, because what he said had been one hundred percent true.

Things in the shed began shaking. I looked up nervously -

I rolled my eyes as a kayak broke from its chains and fell towards Suze. With the least amount of effort possible, I reached a hand out and yanked Suze to safety.

'You're becoming predictable,' I shouted to no one in particular.

'Look,' I said to Suze, 'I'll be over here sleeping. I'm done for the day. Keep yourself out of trouble, alright?'

Then, halfway back, I smirked and added, 'Doll.'