Erin brought her hand to her mouth, utterly speechless. Before her, Connor had presented her with the most beautiful portrait ever, of her or anyone else, that she'd ever seen.
What was she supposed to say? Complimenting the picture would seem like she was complimenting herself, and that would be egotistical, but if she said nothing, Connor would think that she didn't like it, and that was definitely not the case.
"Connor, it's..." she paused, thinking for the right word, but she couldn't think of any but one.
"It's beautiful."
Connor smiled, and rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb in a smooth, even motion. "I'm glad you like it." he replied.

He said she was perfect to him. Wow.
Erin searched for words to say. "I don't know what to say..." she told him honestly, looking from the painting to Connor, who blushed.
"Say that you'll take it." he replied.
Erin's stomach fluttered with butterflies. "Of course I'll have it." she replied, wishing she could lurch forward and hug him.
"Thank-you." she said to him.
Connor grinned. "You're welcome." he replied, and stood, his full height somehow amazing Erin in the process. She wasn't incredibly tall, 5'5", but he towered over her.
As she was admiring his height, he pulled her hand toward him, and wrapped his arms around her back, leaning his head on hers.
Erin nearly gasped. He's hugging me, she thought. Slowly, her hands connected around his back, and she leaned into him, and sighed.

"You're an amazing artist." she told him into his shirt.
"You're amazing." Connor replied, and pulled his head back to look at her. "And I mean that." he added.
Erin's heart melted again, and she smiled at him. Her eyes drifted to his lips, and suddenly, she found herself wondering what it would be like to touch them. They looked soft and supple...they must be wonderful to kiss.
And somehow, those lips seemed to be coming closer to hers. She looked up into Connor's eyes, and he was looking from her to her lips, coming in closer, asking permission.
Erin leaned back in return, anxious to see what it was like kissing this mysterious mister. He seemed to be a punk, a kid who dated girls, but on the inside he was an artist.

OH MY GOSH!!
His lips were only inches away, and all she had to do was push up on her tip-toes and lean forward.
Erin leaned in even more, her heartbeat racing ahead of her, threatening to punch Connor in the chest.
Electric currents waved down her spine when his breath pushed past her, and Erin started to close her eyes.
Every fiber in her body wanted this, nothing could possibly be more important. Just Erin and Connor, that's it.

"Hey!" Came a loud voice, and Erin jumped, her head jamming into Connor's chin, and she could already see blood rushing to the surface.
Erin, thoroughly embarrassed, quickly apologized and went to find a napkin.
"You keep that PDA away from here," Theresa said with her southern twag, and Erin's mood changed drastically from wanting nothing more than to kiss Connor than to want nothing more than to ring Theresa's neck until she lost that twang of hers.
Erin found a napkin, and dabbed Connor's lip. He let her for a moment, then pushed her hand away. "I'm alright," he informed her, seemingly angry.
Casting her eyes down, Erin picked up her comic and rolled it up, stowing it away in a cubby, and started putting her drawing utensils away now, not daring to look at either of the two people in the room with her.
When she was finished, she saw that Connor had rolled his portrait up, and it was secured under his arm.
Could that ruined moment have changed his mind? Could he have decided that he didn't want her to have his picture anymore?

Hurt and confused by no one person, Erin led the way out of the Art Hall.
To hell with that place. She never wanted to go there again.
As she walked, Erin felt her throat closing up, and breaths come in short sips.
Oh no, not here... she moaned
Honestly, she didn't really even know why she was crying.
Or about to anyway.
Erin kept at a steady pace, conscious that Connor was behind her still, and kept her head down, watching the road in front of her.
Obviously it wasn't meant to be.
She'd not even been there a week, for Pete's sake, how could she already be kissing someone?
I kissed Brandon... she thought, and immediately grimmaced.

Mistake number one in her book was kissing that creep. Even if it was the nice thing to do.
Erin spotted a large pebble lying innocently in the road, took a preparatory step, and swung her left foot, launching the pebble into the air and across the road into the trees.
It actually kind of made her feel better.
She spotted another pebble large enough to get a good kick at with the side of her shoe, and imagined it was all the negative feelings she was observing at the moment.
One by one, they all got kicked away until she couldn't think of anything else to kick away.
There was one for stupidity, there was one for letting romance get the better of her, there was one for coming to this stupid camp in the first place.
If she hadn't have urged her mother to send her to this camp, she'd be sitting at home with Andrew, probably doing nothing, but she'd feel better than she did now.

Why did she even want to kiss Connor in the first place?
'Because he's a player!' she heard the good side of her scream in her head.
Erin rolled her eyes. Of course he'd tell her that she was perfect to him.
It was all part of the plan. To use her. To get to her.
But another part of her wanted it to be true, and that was what really hurt.
Erin knew she could like this kid. He was sweet, very handsome, masculine, and funny. He could draw, he had a great body, and he cared.
Or at least that was his front.

Erin took another swing, this time kicking a rock that was buried deeper in the ground than she thought, and came tripping to a stop, hollaring out about her toe which had promptly started throbbing.
She cursed, and regained her balance.
"You okay?" she heard Connor right behind her, and Erin whipped around, her hair stinging her in the face.
"I'm fine." she snapped, and narrowed her eyes at him. "Just fine." she reiterated, and stomped off, leaving Connor behind her.
Connor, from what she could here, had not moved.
She got maybe thirty feet away, still moving as fast as a marching walk would take her, when he called her name.

"Erin..." he called out to her, and something in his voice made her slow down.
It wasn't a demanding 'Erin', it wasn't a pleading 'Erin'...there was something else.
Erin looked around her, and figured it out. He was hurt.
Erin stopped in her tracks, and turned a 180.

Connor was facing her, arms held limply by his side, and his eyebrows were meeting in the middle.
Even from the distance she was at, Erin could tell he wasn't mad. He was upset.
"Connor..." she said helplessly, and took a couple steps forward.
Connor began walking toward her cautiously, like someone who was approaching a wild cat, and was trying to pet it.
Erin waited until he was closer.
"What's wrong?" Connor asked her clearly.
Again, Erin's throat started to close up, and her eyes took on the familiar stinging feeling.

"Connor, I...I can't do this." she muttered.
"Do what?" he asked her. "We didn't even kiss." he added, throwing his hand out next to him toward the Art Hall.
Erin nodded. "I know. And...the way you're making me feel, and the animosity that's going on in the cabin...I can't do it. I won't."
Connor stepped forward. "Why do you care so much about how they feel or what they think?" he asked her, reaching out for her shoulder.
Erin sighed. "Connor...it's just moving too fast." she said, and stepped away from his grasp.
"I hope we can stilll be friends." she said, backing away from him, her heart breaking with every step. "But I don't think you're going to want to talk to me anymore." she said, turned around, and headed for the office.

-~-

Erin walked the mile and a half to the main office, and went through the door, a little bell ringing her presence.
The same lady who first signed her in walked out from behind a door covered with a sheet.
"Oh, well, hello Erin!" she said brightly. "How are things going in that cabin?" she asked.
Erin faked a smile, which really took her a lot of strength considering she just wanted to sit down and cry.
"About that..." Erin hinted casually. "I was wondering if the isolation cabin is still open?" she asked kindly.
"Oh," the old lady said, her lips forming a wrinkly oval. "Well, there's one person in there, but you can have the other spot. I take it things aren't going so well for you." she said.
Erin nodded silently, afraid that if she spoke, she wouldn't be able to resist the flood from her eyes.

The old lady got to tick-tacking on her computer, and in no time, Erin had the key to the isolation cabin in her hand. "Thank you," she said briefly, and left without hearing anything else.

The walk back felt longer than the walk to the main office. It was probably because Erin was upset earlier, and walked faster than she realized.
Now, she was as a slow amble, making her way to D-13.
To be honest, Erin really couldn't understand why she was feeling the way she did.
Maybe it was because she had only been there for three days, and Connor was already making her stomach erupt in butterflies whenever she saw him.
Maybe it was because the guys had to form a secret pact to keep the cabin sane.
Maybe it was because she was so afraid of loving someone and losing them, the thought of getting intimate with someone really scared the hell out of her.

Whatever the reason, Erin knew that getting out was the best answer for her at the moment. Just until she could sort things out and get a grip on her mentality.
She came to the porch of the cabin that was formerly hers, and opened the door.
Ben was the first person to see her. "There she is," he announced.
"Where were you?" Chris asked, obviously feeling a lot better.
Erin looked up with dead eyes. "I was getting a cabin change." she said, her voice as dead as her eyes.
Before anyone could say anything, she was up the stairs.

Erin drug out her suitcase from under the bed and began throwing clothes in there, not really caring if they were folded or not.
Chris came up the stairs. "Hey," he said gently. There was a hint of care in his voice that made Erin want to scream at him for no reason at all.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"You know?" Erin asked, turning around to face him. "Why does something have to be wrong with me?" she asked, but immediately stopped.
This wasn't his fault.
Maybe she was PMSing. That's a valid reason as to why she was feeling all these things.
Chris looked deeper into her eyes. "Okay...what's going on?" he reworded his question.

Erin sighed. "It's too much right now." she explained, her hands flopping at her side.
"The guys, the testosterone, and frankly, I'm tired of being fought over when I was never with anyone to begin with." she said.
Chris smiled. "Okay. So, you're leaving because we're guys?" he asked.
Erin shrugged. It wasn't like she was going to delve into the story about her father again. Connor had already asked about it, knew about her dad, but no one really knew the depth of the story.
"Yeah," she said, thinking it was the best answer she could come up with.
"I don't want you to go." Chris offered quietly.

Erin turned to him, ready to tell him that it wasn't his or any of the other guys' faults, and she was just uncomfortable. They were great friends and all, but it was putting too much stress on her to stay.
She really wanted to say that. But for some reason, tears slipped down her face instead, and her face was in Chris' chest, his arms around her waist.
Chris stood there, his chin on her forehead, and he rocked slightly back and forth.
Erin sniffled, letting the tears run, and she could feel Chris' deep thrum in his chest when he spoke.
"It's alright, Erin." he told her.
Erin lifted her head to smile at him, and found his lips on hers, gentle, soft and caressing.

[you read, you review please. It's not AMAZING! because I've got writer's block, so bear that in mind when you click REVIEW THIS STORY!!]