Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.
Lucy yawned hugely. "Oh, why can't we sleep in?" she sighed. "It's Sunday. I want to sleep in."
"I know," Kurt said, his voice still raspy from drowsiness and his eyes at half mast. "Ugh. Sleep. I want it."
They walked down the path from their cabin towards the dining hall, the morning air still cool. Rachel bounded ahead of them, nearly skipping. "Did you know there's a vocal studio?" she said. "And it's open all day for anyone who wants to practice. I'm going to go. We should go. After all, we have auditions for our first scenes tomorrow, and I, for one, intend to get a lead."
"Bite me," Lucy said sleepily. "I intend to take a nap in a hammock."
"Ooh, they have those?" Kurt said. "Remind me to tell Blaine."
Lucy nudged him lightly. "Speaking of Blaine," she said, pointing further down the path.
Kurt perked up. "Blaine!" he called.
Blaine paused, letting his group get ahead while he waited. "Good morning," he grinned.
Kurt kissed him lightly. "Hi," he said.
"You can continue the googly eyes over breakfast," Lucy said, propelling them forward to catch up with Blaine's cabin. "Let's go. I want a bagel."
"Good morning, Blaine," Rachel said. "I'm trying to get them to come to the vocal studio with me. I want to be prepared for the first auditions tomorrow. Do you know what they're going to look for?"
"Rachel?"
Rachel stopped dead in her tracks. "Mom?" she said, her eyes lighting up. The vocal performance counselor smiled widely at her.
Blaine looked from Rachel to Shelby and back. "I'm a little confused," he said.
Kurt linked his fingers through Blaine's. "I'll explain," he said. "It's a very long story involving Lady Gaga and a covert spy operation."
"Well, I'm intrigued," Blaine remarked.
Finn surveyed the dining hall with wide eyes. "Oh my god," he said. "There's…there's so much food."
"They don't skimp at Pinnacle. For some reason they think that feeding a performer makes them want to work harder."
He turned around to see Jesse standing behind him in his yellow counselor's hoodie. "Oh, uh…hi, Jesse," Finn said. "You, uh…you going to get pancakes too?"
"I don't eat anything with flour," Jessie said. He picked up a tray and handed it to Finn. "You enjoy those pancakes, though."
Finn blinked, then sheepishly picked up a small pancake. "You're…you're not still mad about me kissing Rachel at Nationals, are you?" he said.
"I don't know," Jesse said coolly, selecting a fresh fruit cup from the buffet line. "Have you and Rachel started dating again?"
"We haven't really talked about it," Finn stammered. "I mean, we kind of…well, we've sort of been kissing and stuff, but we haven't talked about being boyfriend and girlfriend again…"
"Then yes, I am mad," Jesse said. He looked up from his fruit cup and smiled at Finn, a smile with all of his teeth showing. "I hope you realize that I didn't take this idiotic summer camp job just to add it to my resume." He paused. "Well, I mean, I did, but I also have every intention of winning Rachel back from you. She's the only woman I've ever met who can keep up with me vocally." His wolf-like smile widened. "So enjoy her while you can."
Jesse examined his fruit cup critically, set it down, and walked away. Finn glared in his general direction and picked up the biggest pancake he could grab.
Quinn pulled the door open and glanced around. The front room was open and cool, the walls covered with thick spongy material. She stepped inside and trailed her fingers over the egg-crate feeling, her clean white Ked sneakers making tiny tapping sounds on the hardwood floor.
The small building was silent and peaceful, a welcome relief from the noise of the cafeteria she had just left. She walked down a narrow hallway and found herself facing half a dozen closed doors, their narrow windows darkened. Experimentally, she peeked inside the nearest door; it was a tiny square with a small window and an upright piano.
"Exploring?"
She turned sharply. "I was just-"
The tall blond smiled. "Everybody does," he said. "First time at camp?"
"Yes, it is," she said, smiling stiffly.
He grinned down at her. "What cabin are you in?" he asked.
"Drama," she said.
"Oh, so you'll spend most of your time at the black box theater," he said. "The vocal and instrumental performance guys basically live in here. Dance has their own studio, the techies have a tech shop, and musical theater usually gets the mainstage."
"Do you just know everything about this camp?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He blushed a little. "I've, uh, just been here a lot, this is my third year," he said. He stuck out a hand. "I'm Dylan."
"Quinn Fabray," she said, taking his hand.
He shook it gently. "Nice to meet you," he said. "Were you going to practice? I was just going to-"
She pulled her hand back and shook her head. "I have to go," she said, and she slipped out of the studio before he could say anything else.
"Why are we here?" Wes whined. "We should be rehearsing."
"Sundays are not rehearsing days, Wesley," Jo said, tugging at his hand. "Sundays are fun days."
Lucy skipped up the steps and pulled the screen door open. "You've been to camp with us, you know how we roll," she said.
David followed her into the arts and crafts cabin. "You have to make me a bracelet first, Lu," he said.
"I'm making one for me," she objected as she pulled out the box of embroidery floss. "I'll make you one after I finish mine."
"But Lu," David whined. He wrapped his arms around her waist and snuggled his face into her shoulder. "Lulu, make me one."
"Say no," Jo ordered. "Just because he calls you 'Lulu' doesn't mean you have to do what he wants."
"But it's so cute," Lucy wavered. She held up two different skeins of embroidery floss. "Do you want a blue or green friendship bracelet?"
"Yellow!" David said promptly.
Jo rolled her eyes. "Such a pushover," she said.
Wes stretched out on a bench and draped his forearm over his eyes. "I'm going to take a nap," he announced. "Wake me up when we're not at Girl Scout camp anymore."
Jo sat on him.
Puck glared across the sports field. "Dude, we were here first," he said.
The blond and the brunet glared right back. "No, sir, I believe we had dibs," the brunet said..
"Yeah, totally dibs," the blond echoed.
Sam frowned. "Look, guys, we're more than happy to share, but we've got to run some of our conditioning drills," he said. "We've got to get right back to football when the summer's over."
"Same for us," the brunet objected. "We're on Dalton's soccer team. Undefeated since 1978."
"Then it seems we're at an impasse," Sam said.
"Yeah, what he said," Puck added.
They stared each other down for what seemed like an eon, a football tucked under Sam's arm and a soccer ball bouncing under the brunet's impatiently tapping foot.
"Hey, Nick, Jeff!" a voice called.
The blond straightened. "What, Trent?" he called.
Trent waved a neon orange disc in the air. "I've got a Frisbee!" he singsonged.
Puck grinned. "What if we challenge you to a game of ultimate Frisbee?" he asked.
Nick held out a hand. "You're on, sir," he said. "Trent, you're on our team!"
"I'm on it," Trent said, tossing the Frisbee in Puck's direction as Sam tossed the football aside.
"Oh my god, I feel like I never see you," Tina sighed, slipping her arms around Mike's waist.
He kissed the top of her head. "We're just in different cabins," he said as he hugged her tightly and guided her into the cafeteria. "We'll have plenty of time together this summer."
She bit her lip as he propelled her gently forward into the dining hall line. "Do you think we made the right decision coming here?" she ventured.
"Sure," he said. "Mr. Schue worked hard to get all of our applications in, and this'll look super awesome when we start applying to colleges."
"Well, I know that, but…" She glanced up at him as she picked up a tray and handed it to him. "They take this all so seriously. Some of the girls in my cabin started talking about shows they've been, and they were rattling off plays I've never even heard of. One girl has been in twenty shows, and she's a sophomore. And me?" She shrugged as she picked a sandwich off the line. "I was in a production of Rocky Horror Picture Show that was completely illegal and didn't even perform for an audience."
Mike did a doubletake. "Rocky Horror was illegal?" he asked.
"Apparently you have to pay publishing companies for performance rights, and not only did we not pay, but no one even has performance rights for Rocky Horror," she informed him.
Mike raised and lowered one shoulder before grabbing a bag of chips for each of them. "Well, it's not the experience that matters, baby, it's the talent and the drive," he said. "You want to be a performer, right?"
"Of course," she said.
He kissed the tip of her nose. "Then it doesn't matter if you've been in one show or a hundred," he said. "All that matters is that you're talented and you want this."
She smiled at him. "You always say just the right things," she said.
"Well, I try," he said. "Ooh, look they have pudding. Mm. I'm getting vanilla."
"Brittany," Santana said, treading water in exasperation. "We go to the pool all the time. Get in here."
Brittany sat on the dock, arms wrapped tight around a piling, and dipped her toe in. "I don't like swimming in lakes," she said. "Stuff nibbles at me, and I get seaweed wrapped around my ankles, and it's muddy."
Santana propelled back a little bit, the cool water splashing over her shoulders. "But it's nice in here," she wheedled. "It's so hot out and the water feels freaking awesome."
"Santana, fish poop in that water," Brittany said. "Right now you are swimming in a giant fish toilet. There is fish poop in your hair."
Santana blinked. "God, Brittany, that's nasty," she said. "Don't think about it and get in here."
Brittany turned around to look at several of the girl counselors, lined up at the lake's edge on their towels. "Would you swim in a fish toilet?" she asked.
"I've dealt with worse in my time, honey," Holly said, not bothering to raise her sunglasses.
Gemma looked up from her book. "Nope," she said. "It's gross."
Francey rolled onto her stomach and hopped off her blanket. "Shoot, I don't care," she said. "It's hot as hell out here."
She swooped her long dark curls into a ponytail as she strolled down to the dock, then took a running leap and dove in with a whoop, splashing both Santana and Brittany. Santana laughed and Brittany shrieked.
Francey bobbed out of the water, sputtering a little as she pushed her wet curls. "Damn, that was awesome," she said. She held out a hand. "Come on, kiddo. I'll teach you how to do a handstand underwater."
Brittany sighed and inched a little closer to the edge of the dock. "Will the contaminated water give me mutant powers?" she asked.
"Yes," Francey said solemnly.
Brittany scooted to the very edge of the dock and dropped into the water. Santana grinned as she waded towards them. "See? It's not so bad," she said.
"If something bites me, I'm going to bite you for making me come in here," Brittany warned them.
"Fair enough," Francey shrugged.
Mercedes toyed with the tab on her soda can, idly surveying the camp from the porch of the snack shop as she rested her chin on her hand.
"Hey, pretty girl. You lonely?"
She straightened up and smiled. "Not anymore," she said, scooting over to make room.
"How's your day been?"
Sam plopped down beside her and stretched his legs out on an empty chair. "Puck and I played a killer tournament of ultimate Frisbee with a couple of those Dalton dudes," he said. "For private school boys, they sure gave us a run for our money."
"This coming from a former private school boy," she teased.
Sam sighed, dropping his sunglasses down over his eyes. "Yeah, I remember those days," his voice holding just the faintest trace of bitterness.
She rubbed his shoulder with one hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "You talk to Stevie and Stacie yet today?"
"Yeah, just a quick call," he said. "It sucks that our only link to the outside world is a couple of payphones."
"It's kind of nice to be off the grid, though," she said. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "A whole summer without Facebook, or Twitter-"
"Or Tumblr," Sam said. "God, I hope I put enough in my queue to keep things going till I get back."
She raised an eyebrow. "You really did not just say that," she said.
He shrugged. "If you had a tumblr, you'd understand," he said. "It's a lifestyle choice. Running my tumblr is hard work."
She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her Coke. "Yeah, because it's so tiring to run 'effyeahavatarmemes'," she teased.
He grinned and lowered his sunglasses. "Oh, come on, I'm a god on Tumblr," he said.
"Your internet popularity is not the reason I'm dating you," she said.
His smile widened. "Remind me again why we're dating?" he offered. She leaned in and pecked him lightly on the lips. "Ah. That was it."
She laughed as he leaned in for a real kiss, then paused. "Uh…hi?" Mercedes said.
A skinny girl with a blue ponytail regarded them with interest, a smoothie cup in her hand. "Oh, y'all dating?" she asked.
Sam scrambled back, nearly tipping his chair over, as Mercedes slid away gracefully. "Uh, no, no…we're-"
"We're Tumblr friends," Mercedes said.
"Yeah, Tumblr, it's…we're all really close," Sam said.
The girl took a long, noisy drag on her straw. "Oh," she said. "Well, then. Enjoy yourselves."
She wandered away. Mercedes let out the breath she'd been holding. "Geez, Sam, either we've got to come clean about this, or we've got to be more subtle," she said. She turned to find Sam grinning foolishly at her. "Oh, god. Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You said we were Tumblr friends," he said. "You're going to make a Tumblr and follow me."
"Oh hell to the no," she said. "I have too much to do to get sucked into Tumblr."
"Come on, you'll love it," he coaxed.
"No. No. Stop it, Samuel. Don't you puppy-eyes me, I'll just do it right back."
"So what are we doing?" Kurt questioned.
Blaine shouldered his folded blanket and smiled. "Every Sunday night, they show a movie," he said. "When the weather's bad they show it in the big theater, but on nights like this, they project it on the on the wall out here."
"Ah," Kurt said. He linked his fingers through Blaine's as they navigated the other campers lounging on blankets and beach towels and fold-out chairs, the cool grass tickling his bare ankles lightly. The evening was just dark enough for the sky to turn a soft chambray blue, and fireflies were beginning to flicker faintly. The air smelled like bonfire smoke and new-mown grass and the clean soapy scent clinging to Blaine's freshly washed hair, and Kurt took a deep, contented breath.
Blaine paused at an empty spot and flapped the fleece printed blanket over the grass. "Your seat for the evening, dear sir," he said, gesturing broadly.
"Thank you," Kurt said. He sat down on the soft thick blanket and stretched out his legs; Blaine curled up beside him. "So, tell me. What do I have to look forward tomorrow?"
"First auditions," Blaine said. "We'll spend most of the day preparing, audition for our cabin counselors before dinner, and they'll announce the roles before we go to bed. And of course there'll be workshops, and we'll probably take turns going up to the ropes course to do team building exercises."
"Sounds thrilling," Kurt remarked.
Blaine kissed the side of his neck. "It'll be awesome," he reassured him.
Kurt kissed him back. "Sh, the movie's starting," he said.
A hush settled over the assembled campers as the opening credits to The Sound of Music began to roll. "They usually play this one at the beginning the summer," Blaine said, scooting down to lay his head on Kurt's knees. "It's just so iconic."
"This is one of my favorites," Kurt murmured, leaning back and tangling his fingers in Blaine's damp curls.
Blaine kissed the inner curve of Kurt's knee, lips soft against his skin. "I know," he said.
Kurt hummed along with the overture, smiling as he watched Blaine watch the movie, golden brown eyes focused and lips slightly parted. "Love you," he said.
"Love you too," Blaine said, smiling.
They watched Maria twirl across the screen, arms wide in her joy as she sang, and for once Kurt knew what she felt like.
"All right, kids, I know you're still hyper and wired because it's the first day of camp, but we've got a lot of work to do tomorrow," Shelby called. "Let's turn the noise to a dull roar, shall we?"
"Lights out in forty, rugrats," Francey hollered.
The sound level in the cabin could only be described as deafening. Campers spilled over the furniture and floor of the common room, chatting and playing card games. One enterprising guy had pulled out a guitar. From the girls' side he could hear echoes of feminine shrieks, about cute boys and promises to straighten each other's hair in the morning and whose underwear is that on the shower floor?
He pushed open the door to the boys' side and headed for his bunk. A couple of guys were sprawled out on their bunks, reading or flipping through their camp schedules or getting their stuff together for showers. He passed by Kurt's boyfriend, seated on his top bunk with that Asian guy next to him, chatting avidly. Kurt's boyfriend looked up as he passed by, a flash of something vaguely upsetting crossing his features.
He turned his head away sharply. All night he'd sat through that stupid musical, grass itching at his skin while he watched Kurt and his boyfriend sit together on their shared blanket, blissfully peaceful, without anyone harassing them or mocking them or even giving them a doubletake.
It made his stomach hurt.
He picked up his stuff and headed towards the bathrooms. A few other guys were in there, brushing their teeth or shaving. One of them glanced up and offered him sort of a smile, kind of a "hey, dude whose in my cabin but whose name I don't know, what's up?" smile.
He ignored him, gritting his teeth tightly as he headed into the nearest empty bathroom stall. His stomach still hurt and he flipped down the toilet lid and sank down, dropping his head in his hands.
I shouldn't have come here, Dave thought unhappily. I don't belong here. I should've just gone to football camp again.
But he remembered that brief week back in January when he sang with that stupid glee club, remembered the Spanish teacher and the silent pianist coaching him through a few scales and songs as they tested his vocal range to see what part he should sing, remembered the first time he hit a note and sustained it, actually held it out and felt the power in his voice and the strange overwhelming feeling that I didn't know I could do this, but I can, I can. Maybe there's more to me than I thought.
He would give anything to get that feeling back. Even if it meant enduring eight weeks of Kurt's boyfriend glaring at him across the room.
Author's Notes:
This was supposed to be a nice short chapter. LOL NOPE.
But you sort of got a glimpse of what the camp is like and see what everyone's up to. I hope everyone's favorite characters popped up in here! Everyone is going to figure into the plot, though, except for the OCs. Well, Francey, Jo, and Lucy will have some of their own plotlines, but that's because I've been writing them for forever, it feels like. Teddy, Knickey, Annabel, Zooey, and the various counselors will only appear when they're needed, or if people actually like them and want to see more of them. And then they'll still only show up at appropriate junctures.
I also want to mention this briefly, since I've gotten a lot of questions about it! Kurt's not scared of Karofsky. He's just frustrated that Karofsky is here to complicate his perfect summer. He doesn't know if he's supposed to avoid him, or talk to him and pretend nothing ever happened, or try to be his gay Yoda or something. It's a very complicated, uncomfortable suituation, when all he wanted to do was sing showtunes and make out with Blaine in a hammock for eight weeks. And also Finn and Blaine (mostly Finn) are in the "super unnecessary over protective modes!" which annoys Kurt just a wee bit. He's an independent guy, he doesn't need to be babysat.
But anyways. I'm slightly behind on this chapter, so there'll probably two tomorrow! I hope you're looking forward to it!
And as always, if you want to chat with me, my tumblr name is redbullandcupcakebatter. Drop me a line if you'd like!