Mmmm, cooking. Italian food is really good (both Italian-style and actually from Italy – Naples does the best pizzas). Hawaiian food is usually high-quality and often Asian-inspired, although it isn't this time (yes, I have been to Hawaii and tasted both the American and Asian sides of their culture – there's so much Japanese flavour). Thanks for reviewing, lordgemini and OmniIBIBIUltraInstinctGodzilla.

I watched the Gophers a bit during the break, just to see if there was any reaction to the letter. I was hanging out with Harold, since we hadn't talked for a while.

"So, I was thinking." I said, "You know how you're, like, really good at beatboxing and I'm not too bad of a dancer?"

"You're better than 'not too bad'." Harold said sincerely. "You're really good! I mean, you still got a seven at the talent show – that's a good score!"

I blushed. "Thanks. Point is, have you ever thought about making a track for dance? I mean, you need a beat. That's why I like hip-hop and jazz – they always have a beat to them. I could probably choreograph a beatboxing track."

"I've made a couple of those in those booths they have in some stores," Harold admitted. "I'm trying to get all the equipment so I can just make tracks in my bedroom – that's what I'm planning to do with the money, and put the leftovers into my savings for college. I've got a microphone and you might have seen I brought my keyboard to the island as back-up."

I grinned. "Maybe we should pair up, you as the musician and me as the dancer and choreographer. I doubt we'll get another talent show, but it could be something fun to do."

Harold smiled back. "Maybe. If I have an idea for a track, I'll get you to try out some stuff later. Not right now, though – I need to have my keyboard and voice paired up before I can even start."

However, the next morning, when the challenge started, I wasn't sure how confident I felt about the challenge. Certainly it wasn't dance.

"Today's challenge will test your minds," Chris said, "Your teamwork, and your skills in the kitchen! You will each be cooking a three-course meal and serving it to me for tasting. You will each choose a head chef to create the theme of the meal and to oversee the cooking."

First of all, we just had to look in a truck for our food. Geoff took one look at everything and declared "We could do a killer Italian theme!"

"Hello, head chef!" Duncan replied.

"Seriously? Than let's get grabbing!"

I was cool with Geoff as head chef, even though I knew from talking to DJ that he probably knew more about cooking. I knew enough to know that Geoff could be a leader, but he did it loosely, sort of trusting that we all had enough common sense to think stuff out for ourselves and just stepping in when it was needed.

On the other hand, I heard Heather calling head chef on her team, meaning she'd boss everyone around. Well, we were sharing a kitchen. We heard Heather basically doing nothing but giving orders.

On the other hand, the second we got into the kitchen, Geoff just said "So, we've got three courses and six people. So everybody partner up."

"I know how to make pasta sauce," DJ volunteered.

"I know how to boil pasta," Bridgette added, and they high-fived.

I could boil pasta and do a few basic things, but I wasn't sure where I was going on this. Harold saw me looking anxious and spoke up. "Me and Peyton can rock the antipasto. I'm like a black belt when it comes to cutting cheese." At that point, everyone, including me, started giggling. Didn't he know what that meant?

"What? What?" Evidently not.

Duncan turned to Courtney. "I guess that leaves you and me on dessert detail."

Courtney didn't want to be paired up with him, but there was no one else left. And I certainly didn't want to get paired up with either of them. I was perfectly happy with Harold.. He was a little faster than me at the chopping and arranging of all the different nibbles, but not by much. We pretty much did an equal amount of work, although I arranged them a little more prettily. And I was only better at that because Harold was being bullied the whole time we were prepping (yeah, the best and worst thing about the antipasto is that it was all prepping, no cooking required).

No, I didn't know why he was getting picked on, at least at first. It started with DJ spilling water on him, so he had to go and change. He came back in a tiny red Speedo, saying crossly "Okay, who took all my shorts?"

When he had to go back again since the guys were saying it wasn't sanitary or safe to wear so little while preparing food, Duncan told him there were some shorts waiting for him in the cabin. As soon as he left the kitchen, though, they all started laughing. Duncan had a bottle of hot sauce in his hand (I later found out that they'd put hot sauce in less skimpy underwear, and apparently Harold hadn't even noticed when he picked them up them because he told me later on that it just felt like he was burning up when he put them on).

I directed the question at DJ. "What's going on with you guys and Harold?"

"Oh, he's been leaving his dirty clothes all over the cabin," DJ explained, "And when Duncan and Geoff confronted him today, he refused to admit it was him, even though he's got his name sewn onto them and everything. It wasn't my idea, but if it means he'll keep things cleaner, it'll be worth it."

And Harold kept denying it when Duncan actually said straight out that they'd leave him alone if he stopped leaving things around the cabin. Worse, Geoff actually made underwear sandwiches with whatever Harold had left out, and only after Harold unsuspectingly tried to eat one did he state they'd return everything they took when he admitted to it.

I didn't exactly say anything much, but I felt that I had to support my friend in some way. The poor guy had to wear his pyjamas by this point.

So eventually, I just said to Harold "They're not going to stop unless you say you did it, you know."

Harold sighed. "Yeah, I know. But it's a pride thing. They'll probably keep picking on me now they've started, whether I admit it or not."

"But they'll still give you your clothes back," I pointed out. "I believe Geoff. DJ will probably stick up for you if you admit it, too."

"Not yet." Harold said stubbornly. "Not unless it changes things."

Either way, at least our team worked together okay. The pasta and sauce smelled delicious. Our antipasto looked aesthetically pleasing and healthy. As for Duncan and Courtney's custard pastries, they certainly looked pretty, even though Courtney kept complaining that Duncan wasn't bothering to level the amount of custard vs pastry properly when he squirted the custard into them. Although apparently throwing a bowl of custard all over him after he squirted a little at her was okay in her book.

I felt bad for the Gophers in comparison. First, Owen got stung by bees and accidentally hit Trent with a box. So Trent was out of the challenge, but luckily, he'd just seasoned the ribs and they were ready to go into the oven. Even though I was more focused on what I was doing, I could hear Leshawna and Heather arguing when Heather complained Beth's pineapple slices were uneven and made her and Leshawna switch, even though Leshawna was allergic to pineapples and got hives just from chopping them. When she pointed it out, Heather just replied "I recommend you scratch after we win. Get back to work!"

Heather also had to light the flambe because Lindsay didn't think to light it after she and Gwen had finished making it. It almost flamed her eyebrows off, and she made Owen go and get her makeup bag.

Now, I watched this bit. Before Owen could hand the bag to her, Leshawna snatched it. "Beth!" she called, tossing it to Beth, who tossed it to Lindsay.

Leshawna ran to the walk-in fridge and called for Lindsay to throw it in. She did it, and the door closed on Heather, in spite of her protests. "Hey, you can't do this! I'm head chef!"

"Do you think Heather's really mad at us?" Lindsay said anxiously.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU!" I could make out Heather's screams from inside.

"She'll get over it," Leshawna shrugged. "Girl needs to learn how to chill." As she spoke, she turned and saw me watching the by-play. She grinned, and I couldn't help smiling back before my resolve to be brave crumbled and I broke eye contact, looking back down and pretending to be absorbed in straightening the salami.

It was nice to watch Chris try everything. He tried our food first. "Your antipasto passed the test-o!" he declared. "Pass the pasta, please." He took a forkful of pasta. "On a scale of one to ten, you get a combined score of fifteen!"

Well, that wasn't bad – about a seven or eight if the pasta was around the same. The lowest it could have been was a five, and that still meant average. Clearly DJ really was as good at cooking as he'd said.

The Gophers' pineapple skewers and mango dip got a nine, but Owen got hungry enough to eat most of their ribs before it got to Chris. But he ate the last chunk left and said he'd had worse, so gave them two for effort. "Time for dessert!"

Courtney looked extremely worried when Chris tried the pastries. I saw Duncan put a hand on her shoulder, and they shared a smile. I was really starting to wonder what was going to happen with them.

As it was, Chris only half-liked our dessert. "Eh…six," he rated. Courtney's face fell.

We had twenty-one, and all that was left to tie things up was the Gophers' flambe…which deflated the second Chris put his fork in, and then he choked on it. Lindsay finally remembered to let Heather out of the fridge at that point. She was freezing, but alive and well. But her team had already lost. And we had won a five-star meal that night.

We all started cheering and hugging each other. Duncan picked Courtney right up in a huge hug and she didn't seem to mind at first. Okay, two seconds later she wanted to be put down, but she sure seemed to enjoy it when he first picked her up.

Oh, and one more thing. Back on Boney Island, Beth had brought something back. A little tiki statue – she'd used it to decorate her side of the table. She'd apparently missed the part about that cursing her. She looked very unsettled when everyone told her about it. "I didn't know! I'll put it back!"

But the damage was already done. That night, when I saw the Gophers coming back from the Campfire Ceremony while the seven of us were finishing dessert (we got in pavlova with lots of raspberries, peach slices and strawberry halves all over cream), and we could see just from their silhouettes that there was no one significantly shorter than the others.

"Do you think she really accidentally cursed her team?" I asked the others.

"I don't know if I believe in curses," Bridgette, who was sitting opposite me, shrugged. "It could be a coincidence that they lost two challenges. They won that first one, though…but that was when she first brought the tiki back, so the curse wouldn't have started until she got back here."

"I buy it," Geoff spoke up. "Who knows what kind of forces work around us that we don't know about?"

"True," Bridgette smiled at him. Things were looking up for them.

DJ, who was sitting on one side of me, leaned in to whisper "Looks like they're getting along, huh?"

I looked back at him. "You know about it, too?"

DJ chuckled, but spoke quietly, so no one could hear him. "I've been trying to help Geoff out. After he helped me get over my fear of water with the canoes, I owed him. And after that thing with the heart-shaped bowl, I figured he needed a wingman."

"Well, I think Bridgette likes him more than she did last week," I said, "So keep going, I guess."

That night, just before I headed into our cabin, Geoff jogged over. "I was hoping someone would be here," he said happily. "I've just told the other girls. Can you tell Bridge and Courtney about an all-girls swim before breakfast tomorrow?"

"Um, sure," I said, frowning, "But why?"

Geoff grinned. "Just be there, okay?"

I did tell the girls, but I really, honestly didn't know what was going to happen. If I had, I wouldn't have done it.

The thing was, Harold had apparently not bothered to sleep in his pyjamas that night. And he'd left them on the floor, too, so for revenge, the other guys actually carried his bunk out and left it on the beach. So when he got up, bleary-eyed, every girl got a good look at…well, everything.

"Good morning, Harold!" Courtney and Leshawna called out in unison.

As for the guys, Harold admitted to leaving his stuff out and promised never to do it again, and the guys gave him his shorts back.

As I got out of the water and ran to my cabin, I knew I was blushing scarlet. That was a mental image I never wanted to see again. And worse, what if Harold thought I was in on it?

I think Harold will be able to forgive a girl who's been nothing but nice to him. Make that I hope.