The dust stung my eyes, watering them with the first drops of salt water in years. I never let a tear drop… ever.

I was laying down on my bunk, still trying to decide if I wanted to go to the reckroom or not. Fatty might have been wrong about the camps rule on the gender of their population, but who the hell was supposed to know that when the only types of humans walking around were tostestorone prone, juvenile cavemen?

I rolled my eyes at my wandering thoughts, you would think that my view would mean that they were uncivilized, and that I was the innocent damsel in distress. Do not be fooled. I had already butted heads with the majority of the population, which happened to be 100 percent male… well, at least not every camper had a y chromosome. Anymore, at least.

Then I remembered what Armpit had said. Jerkface actually knew how to get me riled up, and he had used the perfect tactic, pitty the price he had to pay was single tooth. Oops. But had he actually implied that the majority of inhabitants here were after me, because they were pushing my buttons? I knew the horrible cliché of boys bullying girls because they liked them, but that had never implied to me. Ever.

I swung over my bed, landing promptly on my feet with natural grace. What you gonna do?

I had made my mind, it didn't matter how many guys pulled at my hair, pinched my arm, or accidently 'spilled' their drinks on me – though that was more refreshing than anything else, and who in the name of Bejesus would waste water in this desert of nowhere? – I was not going to be pushed around. I was an independent pain in the butt, and they'd have to suck it up.

Angel's in town suger, better giddy up that horse and ride far away… or maybe not, seeing as this was the alternative to jail for many of them.

I strutted in the dark, run down room, plopping myself carelessly on a worn stool. Yesterday, when fatty had tried to sit on it, it had nearly broken… go figure.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Sam snickered with his sidekick, Jason. They relied too much on each other, and if they were alone, they'd be dog foot… or coyote food, more like.

"And here I thought someone had forgotten to take the trash out, Sammy Boo," I pouted my lips, trying to look as sincere as I could. I didn't work.

Sneering in my direction, I swear I heard him call me a female dog.

I didn't take that b.s., never had. I rose from the poor excuse of a chair, and brought two lips to my mouth. The shrill whistle made him abruptly turn.

I smirked, stalking slowly closer, "we end this here."