Ok, chapter three is up people! WoOt for me…to anyone who reviewed thanks a bunch. I own you a cookie.
By the time Fred got back to the main cabin dinner was already over, not that he was very hungry. Clouds had begun to move in over the formerly clear orange sky and the evening air had cooled significantly. The sudden harsh gusts of wind made him think that a summer thunder storm would soon be approaching. Other people had this inkling apparently too, seeing is that they vacated the beach and took up shelter in either the main cabin or their shacks. Something bothered him though, he felt bad about leaving DJ. She looked rather depressed when he left, like he had said something to hurt her feelings or something along those lines, even though Fred knew that he didn't. Why is it that she is so obsessed about my love life? It's non-existent, I know. She has everything to do about it and I know that she knows. Crispin probably told Trista who then told her. That's why she's acting weird. She's probably just screwing around with me, so that I ask and she can humiliate me by saying no. No, she's not that kind of girl, she's too sweet and nice. I should go back to see if she's alright though…shouldn't I? I will, but I'll go change. It's cold-ish. He was mad about her dare, even if it sounded juvenile. Not even mad just frustrated because he liked her and he knew that she would either kill him for doing the dare or never do it at all.
The light was on in his and Crispin's hovel (yes hovel, they are that crappy). Laughter and music was playing showing that his best friend was not alone. He swung open the screen door and walked in. Trista and Crispin were "playing" a board game on the wooden floor. Pieces were strewn across the room and the spinner looked wet and torn in many places.
"Hey guys" muttered Fred, stepping over Trista's long legs as he tried to get to his bag.
"Allo." Replied Trista calmly. "Where have you and DJ been? You two have been out all afternoon."
"We were down on the other side of the lake," sigh "just hanging out."
"So where is she? Did you scare her off, mate?" asked Crispin. "Did you try and make a move on her. I bloody told you…" he trailed off.
"No, she just didn't follow. She's on her way I bet."
Fred picked up his stuff. He picked an old pair of dark jeans with holes in the knee, a green and red stripped polo, a plain white tee-shirt, an orange hoody he had gotten in Arizona and boxers. His head phone wire was tangled in his pants and he made no effort to detach them since he was going out again. At least this shack has a bathroom with working plumbing. I smell like bus and lake, not a good combination. He opened the shower curtain and turned on the water. Trickle, trickle, trickle. Only a dribble of water came out of the old rusty shower head. Shit on a friggen shingle…now what. He looked out the window; a small figure was trudging down the beach. Their movements were jerky, like a spider that has just been squished but hadn't died. They kept rubbing their eyes. They were crying and it was a girl. It was dark by now and he couldn't tell who it was but a sinking feeling in his stomach made him think it was DJ. The hiss of the shower shook him from thought. The shower does work he thought cheerily to himself. Fred quickly shook off the shorts he had been wearing and stepped into the shower stall and closed the curtain. The water was the most disgusting temperature. Luke warm splattered in his face as he moved to lean against the wall. He wrapped his long fingers around the neck of the shower head and stared down at his feet. What have you done now Fred? He thought. Nothing, it probably wasn't even her. And if it was, screw it. Who told her to make me uncomfortable? It was her fault. I sound like Crispin now, great. I need to hang out with Boyd more, he's nice and…cheery in a creepy dairy-fearing sort of way. Knock, knock, knock. Damnit!
"Bloody hell Fred, get out!" Crispin screamed through the door.
"Shut up!" he picked up the bar of soap and flung it at the door, making a huge bang.
Fred turned off the water and groped for a towel. He couldn't find one, not that it mattered to him, he was thinking about something else. What did I do to her? He thought to him self as he pulled on his shirt. Fred pushed his wet hair off his forehead and squinted into the mirror. In his opinion, he was thoroughly unattractive. My nose is so fricken big, holy shit. He ran his fingers long the bridge of his nose. It was sort of big, more long the broad though. Fred pushed him hand against the mirror and wiped off the steam, then wiped the water on his hand on his jeans. It was getting late; if he was going to try and find her tonight then he had to go now. He tied the sweatshirt around his waist and slipped out the cabin door unnoticed by Crispin and Trista who were, again playing the board game.
Jeez, he can't be that clueless can he? She sobbed to herself. DJ didn't tell anyone about how she felt, but know she had a sinking feeling that he knew. It was so obvious. She sat down on the cold, clammy, sticky sand. She was trying to get his attention way too much. She rubbed her eyes, you never know. He does stare at me a lot…whatever I can't get all worked up over this. He's still my friend, and if that's as far as this goes then so be it. Goosebumps crept over her arms as the cold wind blew across the lake. It's gonna rain, shit. With that and the first few drops of water she sprinted to her and Trista's cabin.
Damnit, it's raining. Fred kicked at the sand. It was damp and cold, like the hand of a long dead person. He spied a small figure running down the beach.
"DJ!" he yelled. He got no response except that they stopped, looked at him then turned again to run.
Fred ran out after them. He was on the track team, the best runner since his sister. She also had the "tall problem". The girl, slowed down, just enough for him to catch her. It was DJ. It looked like she had been crying, he blue eyes were slightly blood-shot and she was sniffling. She looked really cold as she stared up into his eyes.
"Want my jacket?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine." She replied haughtily. She turned on her heel and strode off towards the boardwalks that lead to the girls cabins.
"Can we at least hang out tonight? Trista and Crispin kinda took over so uhmmm," he trailed off.
"Yeah." She smiled. "What are you staring at?"
"Want my sweatshirt yet?"
"Oh," she giggled. "Yeah, please."
They walked arm in arm together toward the small dark cabin. As they walked lighting lit the sky and hard rain pelted the glassy surface of the lake.