⌚ 6:00 AM ON THE DOT

Less awakened (did she even sleep in the first place?) to the horn she's growing to hate more and more everyday, and more to Grace's groans, El's eyes flutter open. (Think the fluttering of a fly's wings.)

These crusty eyes find the strawberry blonde on the floor, writhing and clutching her head like it's a softball.

On a good day (then again El has that whole "if your day starts before seven in the morning it isn't going to be a good one" mentality going on), El would probably help Grace up, if she asks enough times. But El is still on her period and her parents still aren't married anymore. So it isn't a good day and she doesn't help Grace up.

She watches Grace get up on her own and rub her eyes, glances at El (faced away from her), and proceeds to take off her nightgown on her way to the bathroom. El's eyes snap closed right away. In the darkness, Grace pops up, her eyes as crusty with tears as El.

⌚ 10:28 AM

"It's one night," El says, exasperated. "It'll be over before you know it."

"Exactly!" Tiffany wails. "One night out in the wilderness! What would happen to my hair?"

"Really, I'd be more worried about a bear eating my face," Anna says.

"The bugs are even worse at night!" Sophie says.

"Are we sleeping...in a tent?" Brittany squeaks.

"God forbid." El rolls her eyes.

Really, at least once every twenty four hours Cabin A would go on a tangent of complaints about anything including but not limited to their activity, boys, girls, nature, climate, dirt, grime, et cetera. On a "good" day, Cabin A would ignore El's (sometimes fond) irritation at this and keep complaining until El tells them to "shut the fu - hell - heck up!" in the coolest, sassiest, most swaggy (that's still a thing, right? Swag?) way possible. But (yes she's still on this, shut up) today is not a good day so they shut the fu - hell - heck up without El having to tell them to.

Bianca's eyes are the most concerned but least scared. "So... El, what are we doing today?"

El sighs, rubbing her temples. "Before all of you so kindly interrupted me," Cabin A glance sheepishly at each other, "I told you we're camping out tomorrow. So today I'm going to help you get ready for that. Since obviously, a number of you aren't. Got that?"

They nod.

It really sucks that El's being such a dictator but - wait, okay, there's another wave of pain passing over her abdomen. After three years of having her period pretty much monthly (yes, she got her period at sixteen and yes, it's still isn't the most consistent), El's gathered that her cramps come in what she's grown to call "waves of pain" for the obvious reason that they come in waves, a period of time in which her entire body really fucking hurts for at least twenty minutes and then suddenly it's gone...oh wait, a half hour later, here it is again. Sounds fun, right?

Anyway. El hates having to be a dictator but hormones. And parents. Actually, no, she isn't even getting into that.

She tries but fails to give Cabin A a smile. "Right...how about we learn how to pitch our tents?"

Bianca, bless her, nods enthusiastically and gets on right away with getting the least battered-up tent kit in the pile Lionel's given them. Instantly, Laura partners up with her and they've already laid out the different parts of the tent before the rest of the girls even move.

El admits she's a bit rusty (because come on, it's been years since she's last pitched a tent) but it turns out she's still able to let the tent stand. Soon, El is in full counselor mode, pacing around the girls, holding up the poles while they attach them to their respective tents, telling them that popping up a dome tent is certainly not hard; they're lucky they don't have to pitch ridge tents and yes, those are the stereotypical tent-shaped tents every cartoon's camping special has, and sweating a whole bunch. She ignores the growing intensity of the pain in her core.

Soon - by that she means after nearly an hour - El is surrounded by wrinkly, old dome tents with giggly girls inside them. And she still feels like an evil goblin is dancing around in her uterus.

"Great, we're done, we're...done," she chokes out. "Next, next we...have..." El reaches into her pocket, digging for the piece of paper she scribbled on this morning at breakfast to make sure she wouldn't forget what she had to make the girls do to be ready for camping out tomorrow. "Fire! We have fire. Do any of you know how to start a fire?"

"That's when you rub two sticks together, right?"

"No way, you twirl a stick around on a leaf until it sparks...at least that's what Katniss does."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong! You hit two rocks against each other!"

"Bitch - "

"No swearing, Maxine."

"Bitch please, there's something called matches."

"But like, that isn't legit - "

When did El's uterus goblin learn how to break dance? Jesus.

"My boyfriend can totally - "

"Shut up, Alex, no one wants to hear about your boyfriend."

"I'm pretty sure it's rubbing two sticks against each other..."

Okay, did the uterus goblin have a baby in El's head because she swears, it's doing a riverdance up there.

"But rocks have more friction...?"

Also maybe twins who've gone to each of her knees. When did they get all numb?

"I'm telling you, Katniss is always right!"

It's really hot. Is El the only one feeling extremely warm? She feels beads of sweat dripping from her neck down to her back and that isn't really helping with the goblin family who've decided to have a dance party in her body problem.

She's going insane.

"El, are you okay?"

Goblin baby in her lungs. Blocking her airways. Twerking.

"El?"

Goblin family. Family. Ha.

"El?"

Uterus goblin decides it's a good time to tear El's uterus open and brain baby decides to shut her brain off.

"Oh, god."

⌚ 2:58 PM

"Oh, god," a familiar voice sighs in relief. "Thank god."

El tries to sit up but immediately pain, head, cramps, pain, goblin family, dance party, pain, spinning, pain. Did she mention pain?

"Jesus Christ, lie down." Finn, it's Finn. "You scared us, you know."

El must look confused as hell because Finn continues, "When you passed out, you gave Cabin A a heart attack - "

"I passed out...?"

"Lie down, El. Jesus." El ignores the feeling of Finn's calloused hand on her shoulder - how it sends shivers down her spine. "Yes, you passed out. That girl Brittany, I think, went to find help."

"She did?"

"Fucking Christ, if I have to tell you to lie down one more time..."

El settles her head on the pillow, shivering at how sweat-soaked it is.

"Brittany called for Lionel and he got Isaac and I to bring you to the infirmary; here. You were out cold. Seriously, you scared the shit out of us."

It's unreasonably hot in the infirmary. Only a single electric fan is pointed at El. Not to mention Finn blocking the draft it's supposed to be sending in her direction. El imagines the sweat stains on her shirt and the hair stuck to her forehead. (In no universe is that even vaguely aesthetically pleasing.)

"How...?"

"I carried you on my back," and there's that grin again, but Finn's eyes are still full of worry, "and Isaac was being really helpful, complaining the entire way."

Horrified, El now imagines her unconscious body draped over Finn's back; she's on her period. What if her blood...nope, nope. Not thinking about that. Nope.

"Shit," she says under her breath. "I'm sorry."

"El. Lie the hell down."

Really. Did all this sweat in her pillow come from her person? El groans. "How about Cabin A?" she asks, newfound panic rising in her throat. "How are they - "

Is it just El is Finn's grin looking like a smirk? "Grace is taking care of that."

"Grace?"

"Yep. Her activity ended early so she volunteered to teach Cabin A the rest of what they had to learn."

"Grace?"

"Grace."

Either the fact that Grace Upland actually did something nice for El (she's not sure if giving her tampons counts) or the brain baby goblin going crazy again makes her head start throbbing.

"How long was I out?"

"Four-ish hours?"

"Four hours?" El sounds like a parrot, she knows, but everything coming out of Finn's mouth is incredibly hard to believe.

"Ish."

El is about to say something - hey ho, here comes another wave of pain! She rolls over and hugs her legs to her torso. Fuck, uterus goblin, not now. Not in front of the cute boy.

"Shit shit shit...are you okay?" Finn's chair tips over onto the ground, causing a loud bang to rattle El's skull. "Shit, dude. El? Shit. El...? What's - what's wrong? Fucking shit," he's on the bed now, his shaking hands massaging her awkwardly, "what do I - what...shit."

(Finn is freaking out.)

This goes on for quite awhile (Finn saying "shit" so many times that El feels like shitting, and El hating her body) until the wave of pain completely passes over her body and El resembles a wet dog; soaked and shaking.

When El's heart finally slows (don't tell me there's a goblin in there, too), she lets out a shaky breath and turns in the bed, landing herself in Finn's arms.

"What just happened?" Finn mutters into her (probably very stinky) hair.

El is looking at Finn's collarbones. His arms are around her. He smells like sweat and pine. His hand is in her hair. Cannot compute.

Before she knows it, tears are streaming down El's cheeks and Finn has to ask her what's wrong again so she realizes it isn't happening. El shakes her head.

"Tell me what's wrong," he tries again.

I don't know, El thinks.

"You can tell me," Finn's fingers are tickling her scalp and okay, yes, that feels good.

El tries to swipe at her tears, wriggling her arm from Finn's (still cannot compute) but he doesn't loosen his grip.

"El," and that's an I'm-so-done-with-your-bullshit voice if she's ever heard one.

"I'm on my period," El says. And that much is true.

"You and I both know it's more than that."

"You're not as stupid as you look, Finnegan."

And then she's crying again. In a very attractive manner, by the way. Snot leaking, puffy eyes, extremely adorable (read:gross) hiccup-chokes, even more sweat. Sexy. El's chest hurts, her mind is swimming so she can barely feel Finn (Finn? Computing...nope. What.) around her.

"Why don't you want to tell me?"

Why don't you shut your annoyingly gorgeous face? "Because there's nothing wrong."

Finn is quiet for quite a bit which makes El look up into his face. This is how she pairs his I'm-so-done-with-your-bullshit voice with his I'm-so-done-with-your-bullshit face.

"What? There's nothing." El can't keep the defensive tone from seeping into her voice. (Meaning she can't even begin to talk about what's wrong.)

Finn sighs, and suddenly his arms are gone. El finds herself leaning into the empty space and landing on the floor.

"I don't understand why you won't tell me," Finn says, helping El back onto the bed.

El's shoves her face into the pillow, despite how hot and stuffy it is so Finn doesn't see how her cheeks are burning. "I just...can't, okay?"

"I can help."

Here's the thing: El does want to tell Finn. She wants to tell anyone. She knows she needs to. But she's sure once she utters the words divorce and my and parents, she'll start breaking down and she won't stop. It'll be embarrassing and El won't have any of that. "I know."

"Let me help," Finn squeezes her arm. He's sitting on his chair again, tapping his foot against the hardwood floor.

El blinks away the tears that have begun to pool in her eyes before she lifts her head. She shakes it.

"El."

She's been way too emotional for her liking. Raising her eyebrows, she says, "Fine."

Finn smiles slightly, urging her on.

El manages a wicked grin that might actually pass for normal. "You can help me by getting a tampon. I'm pretty sure my current one's soaked."

⌚ 8:39 PM

"Eat up!"

Through they eye she just opened, El finds Grace standing over her, both hands on her hips, scowling. El opens her other eye and there's Will beside Grace, tray full of spaghetti. It smells less like pasta sauce and more like ketchup. Will sets the tray carefully beside El's head, whispers a little "good luck" in her ear. Then he's gone and she's left with Grace.

"Well, are you eating?" Grace demands. "Or do I have to feed you?"

El stares blankly at Grace. "I don't want to eat."

"Don't be ridiculous! Y-you have to eat!"

"No, I don't." El sits up - oh, head rush. The plate of spaghetti reminds El of a brain, red pasta piled on in a less than aesthetically pleasing manner.

"Jesus Christ, you haven't eaten all day!"

"Why are you getting hot and bothered about this?"

"I'm not," but El senses exactly the same defensive tone she uses.

El arches a brow, about to say some snarky comeback. She doesn't have the chance to, though, as before she can even utter a mere "you so were," the door of Cabin 5 (wait, since when was she in her and Grace's cabin and not in the infirmary? How did she not notice? Seriously, the bunk above her head should have been a straight giveaway) blasts open.

Upon seeing Louise, Sky and Mari at the door, El senses Grace breathes a sigh of relief.

"Anyone up for cards?" Sky announces, bringing a deck out of the pocket of her jean shorts.

"Yes!" Grace squeaks way too quickly. Very weird.

"Hey, El, how are you?" Louise smiles warmly, reminding El of Will, scarily enough.

"Great," El says sarcastically.

Louise rolls eyes, telling El to scoot over so she can lay across El's bed. El sits up and hugs her legs to her legs to her body. After this, El tunes out. She watches Sky, Mari and Grace sit by her bed (the two former on the floor, Grace on a chair of course). Sky shuffles the deck with the expertise of a professional card dealer. She asks the others a question, the others argue a bit.

(El doesn't really hear this part since their debate is dubbed with the voices of her parents arguing. About the electricity bill or something. Well, now that El thinks about it, technically it's just parent ie her mother dearest.)

El shudders.

Sky is swiftly dealing the cards now, dividing the deck among the five of them. At the back of her mind, El wonders which card game doesn't have a deck to draw from.

"One, two, three," Louise counts excitedly. "War!"

Oh.

"El, your card?" Grace says, impatient tone evident,

Right.

El hates War. (The card game, that is.) (Then again, World War II didn't sound so great either.) (Please laugh.)

"Elizabeth?"

"Don't call me that." El throws her card down. Two of clubs. Great.

Grace smirks as El takes the card into her deck. "You're losing early."

El shrugs and this is when she knows there really is something wrong with her. On a good day (yeah...you know the drill), losing would be nowhere on the cards - pun definitely intended. But today is not a good day; she couldn't give any less of a fuck about losing a game of War.

Still, El plays along, and loses really hard. Which, really, is embarrassing because war is a game of luck. Granted, El isn't the luckiest person in the first place but today, it's like El has killed a black cat, thrown twenty mirrors off a building and speed-skated under thirty ladders.

Eventually, after Louise has eaten all of El's spaghetti (It tastes good...when you close your eyes."), and Grace has gone to the bathroom to change for bed, sending a new wave of strawberry scent to waft into the cabin, El has the entire deck in her hands.

And so War ends.

"Bye, Grace," Mari waves on her way out, "see you tomorrow!"

Sky parrots her words and the two are gone,

Right away, Louise turns to El. "So what's the sitch?"

"Huh?"

Grace snorts from where she's brushing through her - annoyingly silky - hair.

"Everyone's asking," Louise says.

"And I've answered the same thing to everyone." El yawns and crawls under her covers.

"Why won't you tell us?" Louise asks, exasperated.

It's tiring hearing those words for the hundredth time. "Because." El stretches.

Louise huffs, clearly more frustrated than El is sexually. "Dude."

"Don't even try, Lou," Grace drawls and Louise squirms at the nickname, which, surprisingly, El notices. "Elizabeth can be as stubborn as I am."

"That's my sign to drop it, then?" Louise says. She addresses Grace. "Since you're the most stubborn thing under the goddamn sun."

"Basically."

"Whatever." Louise grunts. "Fine. Bye."

"Toodles!"

"Bye, El."

"Bye. Lou," El says, testing the nickname out.

Hints of blush creep up Louise neck but she leaps out of the door before this manifests on her face. The door slams shut.

Grace hums to herself and tosses her brush into the bathroom. "Now that Lou's gone," she approaches El, whose heart rate has begun to increase, "real talk."

Fuck. Is El sick or did it get hot on here? "What...?"

"Real talk, Grace says again. "You stink."

El sighs in relief - no, she doesn't. If El was, hypothetically, relieved, she'd have to have been scared prior to this. Which she wasn't. Like, at all.

"Take a shower." Grace wrinkles her nose.

⌚ 10:53 PM

Shivering, El steps out of the shower. She's pretty sure halfway through her shower, the showerhead was sputtering out hail instead of slightly cold water. Her teeth chatter as she wipes herself down, avoiding looking at the mirror above the sink. She wraps a towel around her body, wrinkles her nose at the metallic smell of her blood in the shower, and creeps out of the bathroom.

"Took you long enough," Grace looks up from her phone. "Your bed stinks, by the way."

El eyes Grace's figure tangled in her sheets; pulls the towel tighter around herself. "Then why are you on it?"

Grace ignores El's retort. "Put one of your ratty tee shirts on."

El is way too exhausted to use her good day / bad day analogy and even more exhausted to counter Grace as she usually does. So she "puts one of her ratty tee shirts on," today featuring the Hulk's screaming face.

"Okay," Grace pats El's mattress, "real talk."

Sighing, El nods and does what Grace says - actually, she doesn't really tell El to sit beside her and spill, but still. El has always found it hard to defy Grace. She'd only always have the energy to tell herself no, you're better than this.

"I'm not asking you to tell me what's wrong," Grace says as El crawls into bed. "I'm telling you to tell me what's wrong."

"Why do you care?" El shuts her eyes when she feels Grace's warmth on her own skin.

"Because, El." Even Grace's voice is seeming warmer.

"You called me El."

"You're avoiding the question."

"You said you're not asking me."

"El."

"Grace."

"Tell me what your fucking problem is."

"Make me."

There's a beat in which Grace's face turns into the same pink as her silky nightgown. Grace's face is different this close, El notices. Her harsh eyebrows and tight lips reveal themselves to be gentle arches and soft, live, pink things. She doesn't smell like STRAWBERRY, just a hint of strawberry and maybe a little vanilla. And her hair, fuck, it makes El's look like a pile of dead poodles on her head.

Grace is studying her as well, and they're quiet for a moment, eyes scanning each other, judging who is more of a threat.

Then she blinks and all the pink has drained from her face. "What's wrong?" and Grace isn't demanding now, she's whining and it's absolutely delightful.

"Why do you need to know?" El keeps her eyes on a spot above Grace's head.

"I need to know because despite what you think of me, I'm not actually a stone cold bitch."

El snorts, scooting away from Grace. The latter closes the gap right away, grabbing the former's arm tightly. El is forced to look Grace in the eye.

"Alright. Maybe I am." El's pretty sure this is the first time Grace has smiled in her general direction. "That's beside the point. Tell me what's wrong."

"My parents. They're stupid. Divorce. It's stupid. You wouldn't understand," El almost spits out. Almost. Because what El actually spits out is, "why do you cry in your sleep?" and maybe it's to spite Grace because she's tired and her mind is fuzzy.

Grace's (very grey, El notes) eyes widen ever so slightly and that smile is gone. "I don't cry at night."

"Grace."

"El."

"You called me El."

"This again?" She looks like she's about to pull her hair out and jump into the lake.

"This again."

"Fine!" Grace huffs. "I do."

"Why?"

"You're making this about me."

"Am I?"

Grace rolls her eyes. (El is almost relieved at the small sign of normalcy). "You are." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Okay. How about this. You tell me what's gotten your panties in a twist and I tell you why I cry at night."

Good Day El would reply something witty. Clam up. Zip her lips until Grace would tire and give up and sleep. Unfortunately, this is Bad Day El and she is exhausted and her brain has turned to mush.

"I - my - they - " Hormones. Did she mention hormones? Thanks to her hormones, she's crying. Again. Hormones.

There's a sharp intake of breath on El's part when arms wrap around her bawling figure once more. Though, instead of strong tan arms, firm, milky arms are holding her.

"A-are you spooning me?" she manages through sobs.

"Mm-hmm," Grace hums into her shoulder. "No one hears about this."

El finds herself comfortable, somehow. Just the thought of Grace, the girl who loathed her for years, and she loathed right back, having her arms around El and letting their legs tangle eases her hormone secretion rate. Her sobs turn into quiet sniffles.

"I know what's wrong," Grace whispers.

El shivers at the warm breath on her neck. "What?" she says, sleepy.

"With you. I'm not deaf, El."

Something clicks in El's brain. "You heard?"

"It would be hard not to hear, what with your wails and hiccups and whimpers."

Something else clicks. "Then why were you asking - "

"Telling."

" - telling me to tell you?"

El feels Grace shrug. "I like to see you squirm."

The little spoon rolls her eyes. "That sounded vaguely sexual."

"Don't bet on it, hon."

Another - more comfortable - silence washes over the bottom bunk. El breaks it first. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Grace yawns.

"That. Niceness. You. To me. Why?"

Grace's arms tighten around El. "I'm sorry."

El looks at Grace, and in the semi-darkness, her eyes are soft but determined.

"Sorry...for being horrible to you."

"You're - "

"Yeah, close your mouth, El. That doesn't make you look any prettier."

" - apologizing?"

Grace rolls her eyes. Again. "Yes, god."

El must be dreaming. Even then, this would be nearly impossible. Grace Upland begging for her forgiveness. Well, not exactly begging. More like asserting.

"Why?"

"Jesus, I feel like I'm answering a test. 'You apologize to your high school nemesis. Why? Defend your answer in no less than five sentences.'"

El laughs, she laughs for the first time in days. For the first time at something Grace has said. Once her giggles (since when does El giggle?) she puts on a grave face and asks again, "why?"

"Do you really want to know?" Grace removes her arms from El's sides and this seems like a sign that she's drawing back to herself, putting her bitch wall back up.

"Kinda."

"This will take awhile."

El glances at the clock on the wall.

⌚ 11:59 PM

"We have time."

_____________________________________________________

a/n: i rlly wanted to make this chapter good but as always ultimately failed i apologise

special thanks + dedication to rearview aka tas for the adorable banner on the side!! if u wanna make me a banner i have a thread where u can post em just saying

ps iNTO THE WOODS SOMEONE CRY W ME PLS

pps if u can find the subtle rent reference that isnt even really a reference u will have my eternal friendship