Chapter 7

The news of a suggestion box being brought into the camp spread like wildfire. Nothing new tended to happen around Camp Green Lake save for new campers coming in or someone being bit by something so the idea that they could have a hand in making the camp better was the talk of the town. The box had shown up outside of Pendanski's office door one day and he announced that it was to help them improve the camp. Mickey wanted to point out that the box would be overflowing with suggestions if they were really going to improve the camp since there were many areas the camp could be improved but she kept her mouth shut.

Eagle was the only one she took the time to talk to, excluding the short conversations she'd have with Caveman. He was the only one in D-Tent that didn't make her feel like she was an outsider. The only time the other boys wanted to talk to her was to ask her dirty questions, ask about her childhood with Squid, or try to goad her into an uncomfortable situation. While it bugged her she did realize that she was safe with them. If one could be safe out in the middle of a desert.

D-Tent seemed to go back to "normal"—if one could call them normal—after they adjusted to knowing that there was a girl in camp with them. The other tents not so much. Hardly a day went by without some sort of sexual comment or wolf-whistle shot her way. How they could still find her attractive when she was pouring with sweat, sunburnt to hell, toted raggedy hair, and smelled like a sweat sock was beyond her. But she was the only girl so they couldn't be choosers.

It was also why it didn't surprise her when she had heard of someone's "suggestion" that she go around pleasing the other tents and letting them "get a piece of the action". It made her stomach twist and want to stab them all with a fork but it didn't surprise her. The beating sun and the buffering sand toughened her skin in more ways than one.

"I wonder how many people around here would actually eat this shit if they knew what it looked like when it came out of the can," Eagle commented, his freckled nose wrinkling as he peered into a can that had a faded label depicting a fruit cocktail wrapped around it.

"Somehow I think this food is better than what it would be if we were actually in jail," Mickey replied, dumping a can of beans into a metal pan. Her digging speeds didn't match those of Zero but overtime she did find herself not in so much pain and getting finished earlier than when she first arrived a little over a week ago. Now she had some time after digging to read or write a letter home before she had to help prepare dinner. And getting up for breakfast wasn't too bad either.

"We can only hope. Some of this is downright disgusting."

"Yeah, well, as long as we don't croak I don't think they care about the quality. And we're doing our best to cover the tastes."

"Yeah, but we're not miracle workers." Eagle grunted. "That's what people should be suggesting. That we get better food. Not pizza delivered. I mean, sure, I'd kill for a pizza as much as the next guy but who's going to deliver all the way out here? The drive is long for one and the tip for the guy would be enormous. No one would want to shell that out. Especially the Warden."

Mickey's lips pursed. Everyone mentioned the Warden but she'd never seen him around. They say he lived in the lone cabin on the lake surrounded by the only two trees in the whole camp. She figured he must be an effeminate or very empathetic guy if he got her sanitary napkins and pain killers. Either way, if she ever got a chance to meet the guy she'd thank him. He couldn't be all bad if he helped her out.

She grabbed another can and carved the top open to dump the contents out; making a face at the green pile of slop that fell out. It was supposed to be spinach but it looked like green soup. It was becoming much more difficult eating around there when she knew what state the food came in. She was already small in her jumpsuit but it was becoming much roomier as the days went on.

"Think we need to add food coloring?" She asked, motioning to the pan in front of her. Eagle brushed his hands on a dishtowel and walked over, leaning over her shoulder to look at the food. She pressed her lips together, feeling him leaning against her back. The warmth of his skin radiated through his t-shirt. It was unbearable. She had to take a few steps forward to create some space between them.

"Hmmm. Probably. Though that's if we're supposed to assume it needs to be green in the first place," he replied, chuckling a little. She barely cracked a smile and he nudged her with his elbow. "That was a joke. You can laugh, you know."

"Er, sorry," Mickey mumbled. "Just thinking."

"About that suggestion box? Yeah, I don't think there's anything I can suggest. The only thing that could improve this place is if it rained every once in a while," Eagle continued. He went back over to the pot on the stove and looked into it. It had smelled awful when he first thrown what they thought was supposed to be meat for stew into it but with a few spices it didn't turn out so bad. "What would you suggest?"

"Visitation," Mickey replied without hesitation. Being homesick didn't hit her until it was late at night and she couldn't sleep so she would look out at the stars and wonder if her parents were looking at them too. Were they looking at the same ones, the same constellations? Were they thinking about her too? Were they fighting for her release? If it wasn't Armpit's snoring or Squid's farting it was the constant questions that kept her up at night.

"You really think they'd want to tease us with people coming to see what we do all day?" Eagle asked. "And what if people don't come, what do they do? Watch the rest? Plot their murder? It wouldn't work."

"A girl can dream."

They fell into silence as they continued working. Mickey was left chopping and cutting food into equal portions while Eagle watched over the food on the stove. It was almost funny how they trusted their campers with burners but they gave them broken down furniture and pool tables and TVs to use, all which could easily turn into weapons if someone was motivated enough.

They added the green food coloring to the spinach concoction and food coloring to anything else that seemed to need the extra help while Eagle explained the Delivery Truck system. Once it came in the counselors would take all the good food for themselves and leave those that were close to being expired to the kitchens. However some of the counselors were known to trade their sweet treats for favors, which mainly came down to a camper keeping quiet about something they caught a counselor doing. Eagle, for example, could squeeze Twinkies out of their designated tent "mother"—Mr. Collins aka Bear—all because he once accidentally walked in on him "taking care of himself" as he put it.

"So why do give it to me? I haven't done anything to earn it," Mickey pointed out.

Eagle shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno. I just thought it'd make you feel better, since you're having a tough time and all."

"Thanks. That's really sweet of you."

He threw a sheepish smile her way and dropped his arm. She offered up a smile in return. Maybe he wasn't so bad. He wasn't like the other guys in the camp, he actually listened to her and treated her like everyone else. Maybe she actually found a friend out there…

The two jumped and whirled around when the door flew open and hit the wall with a bang. Their surprise quickly changed to confusion when one of the guards walked into the room with Squid trailing behind him, his face pulled into a sneer. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he looked everywhere but at the guard or Mickey and Eagle.

"Alright, if you want to go around messing with other people's stuff have fun washing pots and pans for a week," the guard told Squid, his eyebrows furrowing behind his dark sunglasses.

"Whatever," Squid grunted, his eyes rolling. The guard muttered something about him being a wise guy and turned and left the room. Mickey and Eagle exchanged a look and then turned it over to Squid, who finally looked at them. "What're you lookin' at?" he barked.

"Nothing," Eagle replied. His head cocked to the side and his mouth curled into an amused smile. "What'd you do to get put on pan duty?"

"None of your fucking business."

"It must have been extremely stupid. You're only put on pan duty for the dumb reasons."

Squid looked as if he wanted to murder Eagle on the spot. "Yeah, well I'd rather wash pans than be a Lunch Lady."

"Looks like you got your wish," Eagle replied. He tilted his head in the direction of the dirty pans in the sink. "Get started, we need some of them for tonight. You have twenty minutes. And by the way, we don't have a sponge so you'll need to use your hands."

"Bet you're loving this, right Squeaky?" Squid asked, slamming his shoulder into Mickey's as he passed her.

Oh, she was. Mickey snickered at the sour expression on Squid's face. Finally he was getting what he deserved for being so rude to her. She relished in the sight of him scrubbing away at pans with his hands and cursing under his breath the entire time. It was enough to put her on cloud nine, a bright spot in her days that all seemed to have melted together. It was the first time she genuinely felt happy in days.

"Look at that, we're done with time to spare," Mickey said as she brushed her hands on a cloth only fifteen minutes later. "And what a shame, we managed to dirty up every pot and pan we had used."

"Yeah, what a shame," Eagle added, turning to mockingly wave in Squid's direction. The soap covering his fingers blocked his extended middle finger but they got the gesture loud and clear. "Hey, wanna go to the Wreck Room? Bet you can't beat me in a game of pool."

"Thanks, but no thanks. Since everyone's there I was going to take a shower before dinner," she replied.

"Okay, stay on the lookout for Yellow-Spotted Lizards."

She rolled her eyes. "I think I can handle myself."

# # #

"Hey, look who it is!" X-Ray crowed as soon as Squid dropped down on the couch in the Wreck Room. Stuffing popped out of the holes that dotted the couch but no one batted an eyelash. "Martha Stewart. How soft are your hands?"

"Shut up, man," Squid grumbled.

"You shouldn't have put in that suggestion, dude," Magnet laughed, nudging him on the arm. "Told you the Warden has cameras all over the place."

"Or a snitch." His caramel brown eyes surveyed the room, taking in the other campmates that were spread throughout the room. A-Tent commandeered the weights, C-Tent were around the pool table, D-Tent took up the couch with Zigzag in front of the TV and E-Tent played around with the makeshift "bowling alley" in the corner. "Whoever the fuck told on me is gonna get it."

"You're doing a real good job being tough smelling like lilac," X-Ray pointed out, causing Armpit and Magnet to laugh all over again. Squid grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Besides, no one would snitch. You know that saying 'snitches get stitches'. No one would want to deal with that."

"Not unless they're out to get me," Squid said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Some mouse in particular."

"You think Squeaky went and told on you?" Armpit asked. He shook his head. "That's low, dog."

"I wouldn't blame her, with the way Squid here's been treatin' her. I'd snitch on you too," X-Ray commented. At the look Squid gave him he held up his hands and laughed. "Easy, Tiger. I'm just saying, you're not innocent in all this. Why do you hate her?"

Squid didn't reply. He kept his eyes glued on the broken TV that Zigzag was sitting in front of, his mind whirling. The others were convinced that the Warden was watching them all but he wasn't so convinced of that. Why would the Warden waste their time just sitting back and watching them and making sure they stayed out of trouble? The Warden didn't care. But the only other one that could have told on him was Mickey. All he did was break a freaking pencil just to show how stupid the suggestion box was and now he was stuck washing pots and pans for a week. It had to be her. Or her little sidekick, Eagle. He looked a little too happy about Squid's punishment. His lip curled. The two made him sick. Acting like they were best friends. It was pathetic.

"Where is she, anyway? Too good to hang out with the rest of us?" Magnet asked.

"She's taking a shower," Squid replied, yanking the t-shirt tied around his head off and ran a hand through his hair.

"Damn. Wish I could see that. Bet she has a bangin' body."

"Bet her skin's so smooth and soft," Armpit added.

"Don't make me heave," Squid groaned, rubbing at his forehead. He rested the side of his head on his knuckles and looked around the Wreck Room again. Zigzag's boisterous laugh cut through the other talking and laughter that filled the room. But still, something felt off… "Wait." He sat up straighter in his seat. "Where's B-Tent?"

He got varying answers in response but they all came to the same "don't know, don't care" conclusion. Squid's eyebrows furrowed and his fingers gripped the edge of the armrest beneath his hand. Something stirred in the pit of his stomach. But then he leaned back in his seat and tried to relax. But the nagging feeling only got stronger until he muttered a hearty "fuck" and jumped out of his seat, striding to the Wreck Room door. His friends calling out to him was the last thing he heard before the door slammed shut and his legs carried him over to the showers as fast as they could move him.

He wasn't too far away when he heard it. The sound of a struggle. It didn't take long for it to come into view: Mickey struggling to fight back against members of B-Tent who had surrounded her. Her wet hair stuck to her face as she tried to wrench her arms from two B-Tenters' grasp. She kicked out at those that tried to approach her but it didn't take long for them to overpower her and shove her to the ground. Her cheek pressed against the hot dirt, they started pulling on her jumpsuit, laughing all the while.

It all happened so fast. Squid approached one and punched him in the jaw before the B-Tenter could react. With him doubled over, Squid place a well-aimed kick to his groin and turned to punch at another one. His chest heaved from his heavy breath as he fought out against B-Tent. They got a few good hits on him but he recovered quickly and landed more. His knuckles were covered in blood gushing from one B-Tenter's nose that he repeatedly struck before they finally got the good sense to give up and leave. Squid rolled off the one camper so he could scramble away and leave.

"Motherfuckers," he mumbled, shaking out his aching hand. He turned around and watched as Mickey slowly got to her feet; dirt now clung to her cheek, the knees of her jumpsuit, and the ends of her wet air. Once she stood up he exploded. "Are you fucking crazy?"

"No, but I think you're bipolar," she replied, rubbing at her jaw.

"You're a girl! You can't just…just shower in the middle of the day like that! You're only asking for it. It's open season!"

She glared. "No one is ever asking for it, and you of all people know that!"

"Whatever! God! I knew you'd only cause trouble! You can't trust anyone here, especially that Eagle prick. Do you seriously think he's your friend? He's from that tent!"

Mickey's eyes narrowed even more, if that were possible. He was a bit surprised. "You think he sent B-Tent on me?"

"I think you're too naïve to remember that you're in a camp full of juvenile delinquents!"

"Why do you fucking care?"

"I don't!" Squid yelled, throwing his arms into the air. "I don't give a fuck what happens to you. I really don't. I could care less."

"It's couldn't care less, and if you don't care so much how come you beat them up?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to die out here? Six against one isn't fair odds. That's all. It's not like I fucking like you or anything, Squeaky."

Mickey rolled her eyes and huffed, grabbing the edge of her jumpsuit and pulling it back up her shoulder. He could see the beginnings of a bruise around her neck. Serves her right for being so stupid. He shook out his hand again and curled his fingers, feeling his split skin break open a little more as his fingers moved. "Let me see your hand," she said.

"What? No." Squid lifted the hem of his shirt and brushed it across the back of his hand. The blood wiped off but more oozed to the surface from the cuts on his knuckles.

She huffed and put her hands on her hips. "Do you want to lose that hand?"

"Do you want to lose your teeth?" he shot back.

"Fine! Get an infection. I don't care."

"Fine! Go run off to your little boyfriend!"

The anger coursing through Squid's body kept the pain in his knuckles from bothering him too much. Once he got back to the Wreck Room he stood back and watched his friends play pool until the horn for dinner sounded. He followed the mass of campers into the Dining Hall and shuffled down the long line to get food, avoiding both Eagle's and Mickey's eyes as they spooned food onto his plate.

Dinner lasted a bit longer since he wasn't used to eating with his left hand. Thankfully the conversation wasn't directed towards him and he could spend the time laughing at some idiot who got bit by a scorpion, which then turned into ribbing Armpit. He still couldn't get over it.

He had met "Theodore" the first day he had arrived. It was him, X-Ray, Barfbag, and Zigzag there at the time. Screamo had just been transported to the hospital for heat poisoning. (He tended to yell in his sleep, they were kinda glad he was gone). "Theodore" was a nice enough guy but he had hardly paid attention to him until someone knocked over his dinner tray one day and wound up with two black eyes and a sprained ankle. X-Ray brought "Theodore" into his little group acting as his third in command. He, Squid, was X-Ray's second and they handled his dirty work. They were protected in turn. Except from scorpion stings.

"Theodore" hadn't gotten into the habit of checking his bed before going to sleep and laid right on top of one. It didn't like being squashed and stung him. From that day on "Theodore" complained about his armpit hurting and the name just stuck. He was glad he never got stung by a scorpion or else he'd probably be stuck with a name like Groin or Ankle.

The pain had come back tenfold when he took a shower that night. He had forgotten about his hand injury for a while until the combination of soap and water attacked the open wound. It stung and throbbed and some blood started to come back out but he pushed it aside. He'd dealt with worse.

"You just keep slamming things in that tent door, don't you?" X-Ray asked Mickey as they lounged around in their tent that night. She didn't answer, keeping her head down as she read that Harry Potter book again. "Look at those marks on her neck. You try to strangle her, Squid?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, lying down on his cot staring up at the ceiling.

"Are you okay?" Squid sat up to see Stanley standing above Mickey, concern in his eyes. He pushed a breath out of nose and watched as Mickey held her finger in the book to hold her place and looked up at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's nothing."

"Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks though. It's really nothing."

Stanley nodded and walked back over to his cot. Squid laid back down and shook his head. Freaking Stanley going around and putting on an act, like he cared about her. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he stood—interrupting some conversation X-Ray and Magnet were having about oatmeal—and left the tent.

Anger shot through him again but this time he couldn't place it. Before he could pin it on Mickey for being there, for befriending Eagle, for existing. But now there was nothing to tack it onto. He was just angry. And that pissed him off. He laughed out loud. Now he was angry for being angry! He kicked at the ground; his boot struck a patch of loose dirt and kicked up a cloud. He waved his hand in front of his face to bat the cloud away and sighed.

Giving his head a shake, he turned and walked the short distance back to the tent to now see some of them playing dice with rocks. Usually he'd join in with a bet going on it to win shower tokens—he never lost and would wind up swimming in tokens—but he wasn't in the mood tonight. He ignored his friends and laid down on his cot to rest.

He flopped down on his pillow and something flew up and landed on his face. Frowning, he pinched it and held it above his face to get a better look at it. It was a painkiller. He stopped himself from looking over at Mickey and, instead, threw it in her direction. He didn't care where it landed as he turned his attention to his hand.

It hurt to stretch and curl his fingers or hold something in that hand but, still, he ignored the pain. It was a reminder to not get involved in something that didn't concern him and not to give into his guilt. Mickey wasn't of his concern anymore. He washed his hands of that months ago. If she wanted to be stupid she could go right ahead.

But damn, she could have chosen anyone but Eagle.