Chapter 19

The mascara wand barely touched her eyelashes when Mickey jerked away. It wasn't that she wasn't used to makeup, she had to regularly go "full face" as her mother puts it whenever it was competition day. No, it was the wielder of the mascara wand; Alexis had a way of brandishing it like a sword. With her hand held high and her grip tight, any resistance would be dealt with a quick blinding strike. Literally. Mickey had been on the receiving end of them one too many times.

"Would you—Mickey, for real, hold still!" Alexis grabbed the top of Mickey's head, her thumb poised over her right eye so as to force back the eyelid. "God! You're such a wimp!"

Mickey rubbed her lips together, grumbling beneath her breath. They slipped and slid around due to the glossy coating that Alexis had applied earlier. It tasted too much like coconut. How Alexis became so knowledgeable with makeup, she didn't know. It was just a week ago, basking in the golden glow of their dying days of summer, that they were running around the Country Club catching frogs and talking about forming a club when they entered high school. The day came and, the next thing Mickey knew, she was being pulled into the bathroom and was told that it was imperative to set their freshman year off right by looking the part: older.

"More like clowns," Mickey grumbled in response.

Alexis shot her a look. Mickey pinched herself on the leg, a quick punishment for saying the wrong thing again. She'd been tripping over her words since Alexis had cornered her in the bathroom. So far she'd indirectly insulted Alexis's clothes, weight, and face since the moment they were reunited. And Mickey apologized every time, she was just excited to see her friend again and…everything came out all at once in a spectacular form of word vomit. Alexis used to laugh about it. Now she just rolled her eyes and huffed, ending with that cutting look that would send Mickey searching for the right thing to say to placate her. But the right thing may as well be written in a foreign language that was impossible to decode. One week. How could someone be so different in just one week?

"Why are we doing this again? Who cares what we look like?" Mickey asked.

Alexis scoffed, carefully dragging the mascara against her dark eyelashes. "You should care. You don't want to start off freshman year with people thinking that you're a kid."

"We are kids."

"For now. The thing is, you still look like one." Alexis replaced the mascara wand into its tube and closed it with a loud snap! "How are we going to get into parties and have people take us seriously when you look…adorable?"

Mickey's stomach clenched painfully at Alexis's words and she turned her head, glancing at her reflection in the mirror behind her out the corner of her eye. How could she make one simple word turn into a brick careening at her face? So what if she was adorable? Her father called her that all the time. It was a good thing…wasn't it? Or did the vernacular somehow flip on her, like how sick traded hands and became an exclamation of approval.

"Do I really look that bad?" Mickey asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Course not. You're a babe," Alexis replied, flashing her a grin, "thing is, we're in high school now. That's what you want people to think. Rather than thinking you're, like, a baby. Get it?" Without waiting for a response, Alexis dug into her bag, which sat nestled in the sink, and removed a case of eyeshadow. She held it with such ease and dexterity, like a painter with a rounded pallet.

"I guess."

"Good. Now, close your eyes."

"You're not going to make me look…dumb…right?"

Alexis faked an indignant look but Mickey wasn't so sure all of it was fake. "Don't you trust me?" Mickey nodded. "So trust me. Close your eyes." With a heavy sigh, Mickey did as she was told. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her fingers curled around the edge of the counter space between the sinks she'd been perched upon for the past ten minutes. Her legs swung in the distance between the countertop and the floor. The edge dug into the back of her bare knees; she'd opted to start the year in a pair of Bermuda shorts. The school year may have just started, and fall was around the corner, but it was still hot as blazes. Thus, her skinned, ripped, and scabbed knees were on full display.

Mickey crossed one leg over the other, holding herself in perfect posture position as her mother preferred her to sit. Thankfully they didn't have much of a fight that morning; her father wasn't around to mediate if anything got out of hand. He wouldn't head back in their direction until the end of the month. Then he'd be home for a week and then off to the next destination after that. Her mother pointed out that they didn't need for him to drive trucks anymore, that they hadn't for a while. But her father insisted on keeping his job; something about keeping up a habit, liking the pull of the open road, and that their comfortable future wasn't guaranteed, and he wanted to be sure he could still provide for his family. Mickey wished she could go with him sometimes.

"There!" With a laugh of satisfaction, Alexis put the eyeshadow brush down. It clacked against the counter. Mickey blinked open her eyes, taking in the grin on her face. "I'm a genius!" Waving her hands, she motioned for Mickey to hop down and look at herself in the mirror. "You totally look like you could be sixteen!"

With a wrinkled nose, Mickey peered at herself in the mirror. Her round, blue eyes now sat beneath a layer of mascara, eyeliner, and purple shadow. Her lips, normally a pale pink, were now a few shades darker, looking as if she'd spend her day at a strawberry patch eating her pickings more than holding onto them. The longer she looked, the less she appeared like herself and the more she saw her mother staring back at her.

"I just don't get it," Mickey said, turning away from the mirror. "Why do we have to wear this? We didn't wear this stuff last year."

"Because this is high school," Alexis reiterated. As if saying the two words again would hold more meaning to Mickey. It went right over her head. Honestly, the only difference she saw between middle school and high school so far was that they were in a bigger building that smelled like rubber and cleaning products. "We can't be like we were before if we want to fit in." Alexis grabbed a brush from her bag and started to run We have to be cool. You want to go to parties and dances and Homecoming and on dates, don't you?"

A ready objection poised on the tip of her tongue, ready to dive off, died as quickly as it was born when Mickey heard the cutting tone attached to the last two words. If she took a step in the wrong direction, she, too, would be cut down so fast she wouldn't even see it coming. It was a normal inquiry to some but to Alexis this was a test.

Mickey's fingers twitched by her side. On one hand she didn't particularly care. Sure, going to parties and dances would be fun but why did she need to look older to go? She wasn't even allowed to date even if she wanted to. And, yeah, maybe she noticed that some of the guys in her class were now somehow cute when before they were just okay but, well, if they liked her before they'd like her now wouldn't they?

Or maybe not. What if all the rules had changed? What if everyone else was given the handbook expect for her? What if they were all in on some sort of secret handshake? A week was a long time and, somehow, during that week she spent with her father some sort of "cool kid" memo had gone through to everyone but her; if the clouds of body spray that clung to her male classmates like saran wrap was of any indication, at least.

"Have a good first day," her mother said her when she was dropped off that morning. It was rare for her mother to drive her to school; she looked put together as always. Even the string of pearls around her neck lay in a perfect loop. "And remember, make ripples, not waves. High school is an entirely new beast. Sometimes it's easier to go with the flow than to get swept away. Do you understand?"

Yeah, she got it loud and clear. Don't do anything to embarrass her or the name she's made. Stay under the radar, be polite, and don't cause trouble. The same spiel she's been absorbing since she was four. Ten years later and it stuck around with a vengeance.

And so, she put a smile on and nodded.

With a grin of triumph, Alexis put her brush back into her bag and swung her arm across Mickey's shoulders. "Atta girl! This is going to be the best year ever! You and me, we got this! Tell you what, since you're doing this for me, I'll let you choose what club we sign up for."

The knot of tension in Mickey's stomach eased and she blew out a breath. "Okay! I was thinking the gardening club—"

"You know what? That sounds absolutely perfect."

"Really?" Mickey's eyebrows shot up and a laugh of surprise came out of her mouth. See? She had nothing to worry about! "Great! I thought you would be a little wary of it."

"No, that's a great choice." Alexis lifted her purse out of the sink and hung the strap over her shoulder. "Because then it gives me time to finish my tan." She glanced up as the sharp peal of the ringing bell above their heads sounded. "Ok, let's go!" She looped her arm through Mickey's and dragged her out of the bathroom and into the hall where they merged in with the heavy flow of student traffic. "We're gonna be late for our first class! We'll need to get two seats in the back, that way we can copy each other's notes. And while you're at it: you're friends with Alan; he's a junior this year right?" Mickey nodded. "Make me a list of all his friends. If we want to go to parties, we'll need an in." She paused and then. "You're not, like, dating him are you? 'Cause you can tell me."

"Ew, no!" Mickey shrieked, making a face. She shook her head, as if her mind was an Etch-a-Sketch and she needed to erase the offending thought. "No! I don't even like him like that. We're just friends."

Alexis lifted an eyebrow and then nodded. "Good. You can do better."

# # #

A brush of wind tugging against the wide legs of her jumpsuit made Mickey bring a hand up to her face, shielding her eyes. It was instinct at this point; she'd been caught unawares by a random gust of wind one too many times to not be wary at this point. She didn't want to spend another day wasting her water by pouring it into her eyes. It was either lose water or lose her eyesight; frankly, she didn't have a solid idea of which one would be worse at this point.

Thankfully it wasn't a whiteout or a dust devil. To anyone else they wouldn't be a big deal. No one else had to get up close and personal like they had the luxury to do. All they did was throw dirt around. But, then again…they threw dirt around. Their fates were practically sealed whenever a dust devil or a whiteout reared their ugly heads; they'd be out digging longer than they had foreseen due to the sand and dirt being blown back into their holes. It didn't matter whose dirt was whose at that point.

The breeze died down and the brief whistle in her ear was replaced by the sporadic sounds of shovel slicing through dirt. It was near ten if she had to guess. Mr. Sir would be coming around with the water truck to replenish their levels. The boys were on her timetable as well; their shovels were half full of dirt and their tosses were lazy at best. No sense in exuding a lot of energy when they were going to be lining up soon anyway.

She dropped her hand and leaned back against her small dirt pile. Maybe it wasn't the best idea since it would only make her clothes more dirty—ha! As if that were possible—but she was on her third day and would have to swap them out for her rest set anyway. Besides, it was nice to be able to recline even for a little while.

"Hey, Mr. Sir's comin'!" X-Ray called out. Thank god! Peeling her dry tongue off the roof of her mouth, Mickey glanced out at the distance, seeing a moving dust cloud. That meant it had to be nearly two. Pendanski came with the lunch truck around noon every day, or so she had calculated. She may be off by a few hours (she knew she could always ask Zigzag if she really cared to know. He somehow always knew what day of the week it was, even the date. But most days she didn't want to know. It would be like constantly looking at a clock; time would slow down.)

Anyway, she didn't expect they—Pendanski, Mr. Sir, the Warden, anyone in charge—cared about keeping to any sort of schedule when it came to feeding or hydrating them. Especially since the Warden was still sour over them not having found…something. Anything.

As long as she woke up the next day, she still had time to get herself out. She shook her head. No, scratch that. Getting out was the end goal, the endgame. Whether she pushed forward that timeline or waited until the end of her sentence, she would leave sooner or later. Now…she just wanted answers to her questions: namely why she was still being kept there and why her judge was writing to the camp.

She'd squinted to read the paper beneath the moonlight when she got up that morning before preparing breakfast—nothing special, some off-colored granola bars that she had to unwrap by herself since Eagle didn't show up—but then had to stuff it away whenever a counselor passed by. That wasn't enough time to read it. And after that she joined the mass of dusty orange jumpsuits to their digging site for the day. Privacy on the lake bed? That's a joke. The only bit of privacy she got was when she ran off to find an empty hole to use the bathroom. And she wasn't going to try and read the damn letter standing in waste. She still had some dignity.

"C'mon, Mouse. Up and at 'em," Magnet called as the water truck came to a stop. The dust cloud caught up to it, enveloping Mr. Sir the minute he got out. He grumbled as he waved his hand in front of his face.

"Leave her alone, Mag," X-Ray said, pushing him forward, "just get in line."

She had been halfway to her feet, brushing off the seat of her pants when he uttered his comment. She stood upright, nose wrinkling and eyebrows coming together. Did he just…? She blinked, shaking her head. He'd been in the sun too long that day, his brain had to be fried. But then again…

She ducked her head to hide her grin. So yesterday wasn't a fluke. She hadn't dreamt everything that happened. He was keeping his distance. She could get used to this!

Lifting her head, she caught Squid's eye and the odd expression on his face. Probably the same one she'd had on her minutes ago, but she twisted her mouth to the side and shrugged. She didn't know what had gotten into him either but she wasn't going to question it if that meant the jokes and the pranks and the snide comments would finally stop.

"Hurry up! I aint got all day," Mr. Sir barked as they all fell in line, sliding into place like cars merging in traffic. He went back to mumbling under his breath as he filled their canteens. It wasn't until the line shifted until she, Caveman, and Zero were left that his ramblings reached her. Leave it to Mr. Sir to find a way to make his job sound like he was the Big Man on Campus.

"Water's the most precious commodity on the face of the planet. All life begins with water. So, think of it this way: I'm giving you life." Mickey's nose wrinkled. Some life. "Say thank you."

"Thank you, Mr. Sir," Caveman said. As if he really needed to be thanking Mr. Sir for the bare minimum. She gave credit where it was due but come on.

"Next!"

Mickey handed over her canteen and rolled her neck, hearing cracks and pops when she looked upwards at the cloudless sky. She cracked a grin. If she were back home, before all this happened, she'd probably be lounging poolside at the country club trying to ignore Alexis scoping out all the guys that laid nearby pretending that they weren't checking out other girls while trying to remain aloof.

But if she were back home now…? Well, hell, she'd probably just be shut-in waiting for her dad to come off road for a week whilst simultaneously trying to avoid her mom. At least now she was doing something.

Her canteen hit her hard in the chest, yanking her out of her thoughts. She clutched the bottle, taking a step back to keep hold of her balance. She flinched beneath Mr. Sir's steely, squinty-eyed gaze and briefly wondered what crawled up his ass and died. Her eyes widened. Shit! Did he know? Did he know that she'd been snooping? Did Pendanski tell him he caught her in the office? Or did he find out himself? Was he missing his magazine? Did he notice a letter was missing? Did she knock over one of his skulls? Or worse…did he notice a sunflower seed had been moved three inches to the left?

"Quit eyeballin' me and get back t'yer hole," Mr. Sir grunted. Then his lips pulled back into a smarmy smile and he added, "Find somethin' interesting?"

She pulled a grotesque face and she bit out, "Ugh, no!" before the filters in her mouth stopped the words from shooting out. No one moved. A strangled choking sound emitted from her throat and she immediately turned on her heel and all but ran back to her hole, eyes wide, mind racing: he's gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me!

She almost felt his eyes burning holes into her back and started to prepare who would get her belongings after she was found thrown into the bottom of one of their holes when a noise grabbed their attention. A strange booming. Was that…? She whipped her head around, following Squid's, Zigzag's, and Caveman's eyelines off to the mountains in the distance.

The mountains that sometimes were stark against the blue sky and sometimes hidden by the haze of the stifling heat. This time, however, the mountains were outlined by darkened storm clouds; a swipe of grays and purples smudged against the brown terrain backlit every now and then from lightning.

Lightning. She stared at it. She almost forgot that it could storm, that rain even existed. And while she was mesmerized by the sight and wished that some of the rain could come their way—a sentiment that Caveman seemed to echo as he said "Maybe this time they will" to Mr. Sir's claim that the clouds never move past the mountains—part of her didn't mind that the storms stayed away. She hated storms.

"I got a story for you Girl Scouts," Mr. Sir said, sauntering around the water truck. Mickey rested her chin against the point of her shovel, the tip shoved into the dirt at the bottom of her two-foot hole. "Once upon a time there was a magical place where it never rained. …The end."

Maybe she was delirious. Maybe she had officially been in the sun too long. Maybe she'd been stuck around one too many arm-punching, "bro!" "dude!" "dawg!" "man!", toilet-humor, sex-based jokes. It was such a terrible joke. And yet…she laughed. Hard.

A loud whoop burst out of her mouth and she managed to cover a second later with her hand, but her shaking shoulders and the following snort-like inhales gave her away. Beneath the incredulous and surprised stares of the boys she doubled over, squeezed eyes leaking tears, abs clenching and aching with the force of her laugh. It was such a dumb joke and yet, here she was, laughing as if it was the funniest thing she'd heard in the world.

Squid's mumbled "I don't get it" followed by "I never get anything he says" set her off again and she had to hold onto the shaft of her shovel to keep her up. Steadily her laughter subsided to occasional giggles, punctuated by the scraping of her shovel against the sides of her hole to ease her way back into digging.

Her laughter stopped completely when she noticed at least five pairs of eyes trained on her. "What?" she finally asked after seconds of no one saying anything.

"We can't even get you to smile but that makes you laugh?" X-Ray asked.

Her nose wrinkled, and her grip tightened on her shovel. For one, she didn't have to smile if she didn't want to and, two, who was he, the laugh police? If they were to have the same conversation when she first arrived at camp, she probably would have just grinned and bore it (no pun intended). But now? If he thought she was gonna smile for him, he had another think coming. Besides, it wasn't even the joke.

It was the type of joke. It's the same type of joke her dad would make. He'd let the pun or the punchline sit for a second before he burst into laughter, cracking himself up. Sometimes she'd laugh along with him because his face or delivery were hilarious. And sometimes she'd sit back and smile at him, shaking her head. No matter the reaction, he didn't care. "As long as I make myself laugh, who cares?" he'd say when a joke would leave her or her mother staring at him, wondering just how they got stuck with such a goober for a father and a husband.

God, she missed him! She tried not to think too hard about everything she left behind but her father always seemed to slip through the cracks. When she tried to stomach the food during her first week and kept throwing it back up, her mind turned to her father who would be ready with foods to settle her stomach and her favorite movies ready for binging if she were home. When the blisters on her feet popped open, she thought of her father who would be ready with gauze, ointment, and a piggyback ride. When she wanted to give up and resign to letting Camp Green Lake to take her as it's next victim, he was there with a pep talk and a kiss.

And yet, no matter how much she thought of him, it didn't fill the hole that grew in her heart. Because she hadn't received a letter from him. Not once. And that, she just couldn't understand. He had the address. Hell, he was the one who figured out Camp Green Lake's address and gave it to her when she wanted to write to Squid in the first place. Her mother had hidden it from her, but he found it. He could write home and send postcards nearly every week when he was on the road but now? Nothing.

So, yeah, she laughed at Mr. Sir's dumb joke. It had nothing to do with him and all to do with her dad.

"Find me something to laugh at and I might," she replied. And before she could stop herself she looked him in the eye and added, "Besides your faces."

She smiled at the following laughter and chorus of oohhs that came from the boys' mouths, satisfied. It was nice to finally not be the butt of a joke. And, in an odd way, it was nice to fit in. Even if it was on their terms. What'd her mother always say? Make ripples, not waves. Well, Mom, look at me now!

Tilting her shovel, she lifted and unearthed a pile of dirt to turn and dump it out of her hole. Mr. Sir's engine revved and he drove off amidst their chatter. Mickey went to scoop up another shovelful of dirt but stopped when her peripheral caught something. Zigzag still staring. She straightened and glanced at him, lifting an eyebrow. "Yes?" she asked.

Zigzag's head cocked to the side, his chin resting on his arms which were crossed over the rounded end of his shovel. Almost like it was the only thing keeping him up. He didn't say anything for a moment and she shrugged and had started to go back to digging when he stated, "You get dimples when you smile."

Mickey blinked rapidly and shook her head. What…was she supposed to do with that information? Especially since he said it in the same way he'd randomly offer up some factoid about I Dream of Jeannie when they were winding down to sleep. But she didn't have time to reply for, the minute she opened her mouth, Magnet let out a cheeky, "Anybody want some sunflower seeds?"

And there he stood, grinning, holding a sack of sunflower seeds in his hands. Mr. Sir's sack of sunflower seeds. Her eyes widened, and her breath rushed out at her all at once. Oh, this could not be good. Maybe they wouldn't notice a little letter going missing but his bag of sunflower seeds? That was just asking for trouble, especially from a former addict.

And so she stood still as she watched it go from hand to hand, from Magnet to X-Ray to Armpit to Squid. They all took handfuls, rolled down the top of the bag, and tossed it to the next one. She watched with laser-like focus as it moved from one hole to the next, waiting for her turn.

"Mouse?" Zigzag was the next one with the bag. He crunched into his handful of sunflower seeds, shells and all. She wondered if she'd be able to see each individual shell slide down his slim neck. He really did look like a bobble head. Or a very thin Super Saiyan.

Peeling her tongue from the roof of her dry mouth, she shook her head. "Nah, I'm good." And she waited for the blow back that almost always seemed to come with her decisions and…nothing. Nothing. Just a shrug of his shoulders and his attention turning to Caveman and Zero. She pinched her tanned arm and did a quick shuffle-like dance in her hole. Who ya callin' Mouse now?

The roar of an engine made all of them freeze, their chatter and jubilation cutting off in an instant. Magnet's worried, "Mr. Sir's coming back!" was followed by a flurry of frenzy over at Caveman's hole as the rest of them taunted and jeered. Seriously? Now that Mr. Sir was coming back it was every man for himself?

And yet, there she still stood, in her own shallow hole, watching as Mr. Sir approached like a shark looking for it's prey. He stalked between their holes, peering over their shoulders and kicking dirt piles around. None of them made eye contact. Mickey swore she was going to pass out by the time Mr. Sir walked past her hole and she could let go of the breath she held. Not that she did anything wrong…past trying to assault her assaulter, anyway.

Her inflated cheeks shrank like depleted tires as he breath rushed out of her when Mr. Sir's large shadow passed by her. Then her teeth sunk down on her lower lip when he stood above Caveman, hands on his hips. Target sighted. She shifted the dirt at the bottom of her hole forward and back, waiting.

…And nothing. Mr. Sir didn't kick up a fuss, like she expected. Her shoulders, tense in anticipation, lowered from her ears and she watched, more confused than anything, as Mr. Sir lead Caveman over to his truck and then they drove away.

…What?

"Man!" Magnet clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Now Caveman gets a ride in Mr. Sir's truck?"

"You don't wanna be in that truck, dawg," X-Ray stated.

"A/C? Wind blowin' across his face?" Magnet made a clicking noise again. "Don't see how that's a problem."

"He's goin' to the Warden fer sure," Squid commented, resting an arm against the tip of his shovel. "Don't wanna be Caveman right now."

"What you think she gonna do to 'im?" Armpit asked, staring off in the distance.

"Depends on if he squeals or not," X-Ray said.

"You think he will?" Magnet's eyebrows came together. His grip tightened on the shat of his shovel and worry seeped into his voice.

"Nah, man. It's Caveman. He'll keep his mouth shut."

That didn't seem to placate Magnet enough, who began to mutter something under his breath in Spanish. Mickey caught "believe this" and "trouble" and…"tree"? Okay, so her Spanish was a little rusty and he spoke fast.

"Not unless Mr. Sir wants him to talk," Squid said. "He aint comin' back. Aint no way."

"Between Mr. Sir and the Warden?" Armpit whistled and shook his head. "He may as well start runin', man."

Zigzag hummed. "Wonder if they'll try to hide his body."

"Plenty of holes to choose from."

She wasn't sure who it was that made such a dark joke; the others laughed but not her. And not Zero, whose movement grabbed her attention. She watched as she lifted himself out of his hole, walked with a laser-focused determination to the beginnings of Caveman's hole, stepped into the little dip into the earth and began digging. One by one the others stopped their conversations and looked over at Zero.

"Weird little dude," Zigzag muttered.

"Hey, he likes digging holes," X-Ray said with a laugh, jabbing his shovel into the dirt. If Zero heard them, he didn't let them know. He continued his smooth strokes, lifting pile after pile out of Caveman's hole.

"Well," Mickey finally spoke up, "shouldn't we help him?"

Her eyes moved from face to face, each one of them turning away from her. Save for X-Ray, who looked at her as if she were crazy. "It's his hole," he stated. Like it was the most obvious answer in the world. Which…to everyone else, it seemed to be. She sighed. Every time she felt she finally understood how things worked around there, she was thrown another wrench.

"Well…yeah, but, I mean, he may be taking the fall for Magnet."

X-Ray shrugged. "That's his choice. No one told him to do it. Right?"

"I guess, but—" Mickey's words died on her tongue when he laughed, and pools of red burned her cheeks.

"If you want to help dig his hole, go ahead," X-Ray said, motioning to the hole with his shovel. And then he held up his free hand. I won't stop you.

Ten words. Ten simple words. One measly sentence. And it all came crashing down on her like a brick wall. Pumped up like a challenge. The sun beat down on her, like the harsh glare of a spotlight. She peeked a glance over at Squid who made a face and then shrugged. She licked her cracked lips. Glanced over at Zero, who paused in his digging and to look at her. Her lips formed a line. She stomped on her shovel and went back to digging. Soon the sound of scraping shovels filled the air and, with each stab into the earth, a little bit of her previous day's pride oozed out of her.

Make ripples, not waves.

She repeated the mantra in her head until the layer of shame upon herself thinned. Caveman would understand; hopefully. And Zero would understand. And at some point, she'd be able to understand that, even though she knew she had to play their game, she may be more of a mouse than she originally thought. And that, maybe, it was a fate she couldn't escape, no matter how hard she tried.

a/n - I'm posting this before I spend more time editing it into oblivion and stopping myself from doing so. I hope you all liked this one! Yes, Mickey may have gotten more of her confidence back last chapter but things and people don't change right away. As her mother always says, make ripples not waves. (Cough cough!) One of my top two favorite Squid scenes from the movie comes next chapter! Eagle will be back (B-Tent won't take being screwed over lying down, of course!) and more info about Mickey's position at camp will be revealed! Thanks for reading! If you liked this, please leave a comment! Constructive criticism is welcomed!

Review Replies

Guest 1: You have no idea how much it means to me to hear that you keep checking back to see if this story is updated. This fic is my baby; I just love Holes so much that I want to do the source material justice with its characters whilst simultaneously making my own story. I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying Mickey's story and I hope you stick around until the end!

LittleBlueSweater: You wanting to scream when you saw my update is like me wanting to scream when I saw your review. Not only because I look forward to your reviews but because you're always super sweet and I can't wait to see your thoughts on how everything pans out. Of course, I had to go see the movie that reminded you of Squid, which was a coincidence but a funny one at that. And I enjoyed it! It gives me another source as to how to make Squid complex and realistic; if I can have someone walk away seeing Squid as a fully-fleshed out character and person, then I can confidently say that I did my job well. I think it's mostly fanon that he got his name due to marine biology (it's stated in the survival guide that he has an interest in it but there's no concrete reason as to why he was named. Not like the meaning behind Magnet's name, for example). Aaaaahhhh! Thank you so much for your kind words about Mickey! I try to make my OCs as realistic as possible and to read your sweet words helps me feel like I'm doing my baby justice. Thank you so much for continuing to read this story! We're just about to hit the part I've been looking forward to this whole fic! Hold onto your hats!

Guest 2: Thanks so much for your kind review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!