⌚ 6:00 AM ON THE DOT

El knows for a fact that if a person's day starts before 7 o'clock, it isn't going to be a good one.

That's why all her days at Camp Ashwood have been subpar - they almost always start at six in the morning with that damn horn killing her eardrums. Sure, there have been some good days, but there are always exceptions to every rule.

Today seems to start out fairly well (then again, most of the time things take turns for the worse so El isn't expecting much) with the horn having Grace's eyes pop open and her flail out of El's embrace and onto the dark hardwood floor. (They've been sleeping together - not in that way, despite the discussion the previous night - for the sake of comfort and warmth. And so Grace doesn't have to fall from top bunk. Clearly that backfired.)

El yawns lazily, a smile already coming upon her lips. "Why is it," she stretches, "that you still somehow manage to fall off bottom bunk?"

"Shut up," Grace says, her sleepy voice muffled by the hair in her mouth. She lifts her head from the floor to send El an especially nasty glare. Her nose is red from the impact. El notices remnants of salty tears on her cheeks. Those are from a Gwen Upland-related nightmare, no doubt. She isn't sure if she should be relieved or concerned that Grace is having them again. It's probably for the best if she doesn't mention it. Grace would disregard what she says on the matter anyway.

Still, seeing Grace land on the floor awkwardly has to be one of the most hilarious things El will experience in her lifetime. Almost forgetting about Grace's tear tracks, El gnaws at her tongue to stop herself from laughing. "Are you sure you don't have any brain damage from the amount of times this has happened?"

"I'm having brain damage just talking to you," Grace retorts as she lifts herself from the floor to sit at the edge of El's mattress.

"Ouch." El runs her foot up and down Grace's pale arm, relishing the goosebumps she feels appear beneath her own touch. She finds herself smirking when Grace leans into her touch, sighing softly. "I'm hurt, Grace, really."

"Yeah, whatever," Grace says quietly. She has the tiniest smile tugging at her lips - El is awed that she can get that out of the ice queen herself. "You'll get over it."

"I don't know, that was a pretty deep cut."

Grace rolls her eyes, flinching away from El's foot. "Walk it off, El." She gets up.

"Where are you going?" El tries not to sound too disappointed. Maybe she wants to get Grace grinning. Maybe she wants to talk about her nightmares. Even that would be a stretch, though.

"Taking a shower." Grace glances back at El. "Care to join me?" The invitation doesn't have a lot of weight to it, but it's an invitation nonetheless. It comes off more serious than El thinks she intended.

The girl still in bed tries to suppress the heat in her cheeks. "Not this again." El sits up, crossing her arms.

Grace shrugs and slams the bathroom door behind her. The shower starts to trickle and she calls, "Your loss!"

⌚ 7:18 AM

"You'd think for our last breakfast they'd go all out," Isaac says bitterly. He pokes at the limp slices of ham upon the lone English muffin on his tray. An over-poached egg sits on top of the pinkish pile, yellow sauce half-heartedly drizzled on it. Considering the quality of the past breakfasts they've had, this could be considered somewhat special. Still, El doesn't have the heart to call it an Egg's Benedict - more like a sad excuse for one is what sits on everyone's trays.

Everyone's except Grace Upland's. She has a jar of wildberry jam and a few squares of butter beside three slices of whole wheat toast and a glass of orange juice.

"Just be thankful you have food, Isaac," Mari says. As if she isn't nonchalantly passing stray bits of ham onto Louise's tray.

"This is barely food!" Isaac retorts.

"Oh, shut up and eat, will you?" Will says, mouth overflowing with the stuff everyone is trying very hard to avoid.

Grace smirks as she spreads a layer of jam onto her buttered toast. "It's not that bad."

"Easy for you to say, you aren't even fucking eating it!"

"I don't even get how you could eat that corned beef and not this." Louise shudders.

"The corned beef was actually bearable."

"It was not."

"It so was."

El sighs and takes a tentative bite of her breakfast. The ham is bland and the English muffin is soggy and the hollandaise is too sour but it's bearable. She takes a good look at everyone around the table. Sky has her fists in Isaac's hair, just about dunking him into the Egg's Benedict in front of him. Mari and Louise are telling him off. Will is wolfing down his breakfast, casting furtive glances at Louise - he blushes when he finds El has caught him in the act. Finn has engaged Grace in a riveting conversation about the history of Les Miserables. Interesting stuff.

Maybe El is being sarcastic.

Nevertheless, it's interesting stuff she will miss greatly.

⌚ 11:22 PM

El tries not to get too emotional when she sees the packed bags lined up perfectly along the rows of bunk beds within Cabin A. She isn't one to get sentimental very easily, but there's something about seeing packed suitcases that has an air of finality about everything.

"Everyone done?" she asks.

Surprisingly, it hasn't taken Cabin A any longer than two hours to pack their things back up, much shorter than it took El and Grace last night. Mostly because they weren't doing much packing, per se.

Fourteen heads bob up and down, nodding. El hums and leads them out of the cabin. She's almost relieved that she doesn't have to see those suitcases for a few hours.

Because, fine, she might be sad that she won't see those pre-pubescent girlish faces for the good part of eleven months. She'd gone into camp hating the idea of interacting with children, but here she is now, dreading saying goodbye to the fourteen girls she's grown fond of.

Her past self would slap her right across her face.

"What are we doing today?" Brittany asks her, crouching down to dodge a branch that was this close to thwacking her n the face.

"Nothing," El replies. She isn't even exaggerating. The last day of camp ends up being the saddest and most boring day of all every year. Almost an entire morning is spent packing up, getting unattached from everything. Then Lionel has everyone have lunch around the Bonfire Pit, while he gets everyone to join in on various ceremonies and such.

Really, the only exciting part that happens is the announcement of whether the Ashes or Woods won, and even then, El is not looking forward to it. Her cabin has been utter shit - and really, who's more at fault than their counselor? She's kind of beating herself up about it, since she hasn't been the most present of counselors.

Maybe today will be an addition to the list of things that prove her starting before 7 o'clock equals bad day theory.

"Good morning, campers," Lionel says once he's on the low stage. "And counselors," he adds as an afterthought.

As he rambles on and on about endings and new beginnings and how the only constant in this world is change and how everyone's learned so much over this month and how he's had the pleasure of being the camp director and so on and so forth, El zones out. She empathizes with the old man, of course, she hates not being listened to - but when what's coming out of his grinning mouth is so utterly boring and irrelevant, she really can't be bothered.

Having a large pile of wood burning at midday is a bad idea, El deduces. The sun is nearly reaching its peak...the last thing everyone needs is a huge-ass fire toasting them even more. The sweat forming and rolling about on her skin has found new crevices to hide in, sticking herself to herself, making her feel like she's actually in hell. It's like the amount of perspiration she's excreted is enough to extinguish the fire that's caused it in the first place.

"Now everyone, take a piece of paper," Lionel commands. He passes around a bunch of post-it notes. El tears off a pink one and passes the pad to Bianca, who is beside her. "Everyone have one? Okay, now I want you all to write one thing you'll miss from Camp Ashwood - I'll be passing pens around..."

El should have known this was happening. Every year, it does. Lionel gets them to write what they'll miss about camp and throw it into the fire. He claims it's cathartic in some way, that it's a symbol of how everyone lets go and moves on with their lives. El never really got this. Aside from the obvious air pollution that happens, she never finds anything to miss. She'd usually scribble a half-assed "the lake" or "my friends"onto the paper and toss it into the blazing embers.

Now, she's stuck in the same situation. What will she miss?

El takes a peek at the answer beside her. "Laura." Bianca's handwriting is a lot more intricate than she expected, the curve of her L linking perfectly up to her round A. Blushing furiously, Bianca crumples the paper up and keeps it in her balled fist.

"Whipped," El hisses into her ear.

Bianca turns an even deeper shade of red. "Bet you a dollar you wrote Grace on yours."

El holds up her empty post-it. "Pay up," she says triumphantly.

"Is everybody finished?" Lionel asks after a few minutes. "Now, I want you to fold it up and throw it into the bonfire. This symbolizes how we must leave camp behind - "

El rolls her eyes. She could literally just write nothing and throw her paper into the fire, but funnily enough, she'd feel like she's lying. To Lionel. To herself. That's just about as good as saying she'll miss nothing.

She asks herself again: What will she miss?

Grace, her brain replies. Finn. Cabin A. Will. Louise. Isaac. Jason. Luke. Mari. Sky. The lake. S.S. Taylor. Drinking in her cabin. The reflection of the moon on the surface of the lake. The smell of grass up her nose. Trekking through the forest. Winning an activity. Sunlight sifting through the leaves above her. All the banter.

One thing, Lionel's voice rings through her skull.

"Everything," El scribbles.

She folds the piece of paper four times, until it's about the size of her thumb nail, takes a deep breath, and chucks it into the bonfire. She watches as the flames lick around the pink square, charring its edges slightly, eating it up slowly, until it's nothing but a pile of black flakes sitting upon a log.

⌚ 1:53 PM

"How was lunch?" Lionel pipes up, jolly as ever. El is yet to discover how the old man can have that much energy for the amount of time he has it and not drop dead from pure exhaustion. (El is still as morbid as she's started out...no surprise there.) She can barely put up with her own cabin for more than a few hours - she's fond of them, but she will never have the energy to be constantly nice to them, much less cheery as hell.

"Horrible!" Isaac replies. He's still probably hung up over the whole Egg's Benedict ordeal. Lunch had consisted of hotdogs grilled around the fire (El could have just as easily cooked one upon her own head) and toasted buns done the same way. It wasn't horrible, but the hotdogs did taste kind of funny.

"I still have your extra credit form, Counselor Isaac! Don't push it." El can only dream to deliver a threat as merrily as Lionel just did.

Isaac puts his hands up in defense, a faux innocent expression on his face.

While everyone had taken their turns grilling hotdogs, Lionel had gotten all ten counselors to give speeches about their experiences at Camp Ashwood. Considering El's first and only time speaking in front of the one hundred fifty children didn't go so well - "...I think I have poison ivy in my crotch" - she wasn't eager to give a mushy speech. The rest of the counselors spoke eloquently, thanking each of their cabins for the fun they've had, et cetera, while El was a stuttering mess. She managed not to blurt out anything about the sweat coming down her butt crack, but she'd just barely stumbled through with an "I had fun...thanks" among a few other incoherent words.

After delivering her "speech" - really it would be a disgrace to all speeches to call it so - El had gone to realize something. And it pissed her off beyond words.

Wasn't Lionel supposed to be announcing whether the Ashes or Woods won for the summer?

The reason Lionel is doing all these ceremonies and such is because he wants to build the suspense. El finally senses the apprehension in the (hot, hot) air. She starts getting impatient; if there's one thing El hates more than lying biological fathers, it's suspense. And well, Lionel is the perfect combination of both.

"Well, we've come to the end of our program for today..." Lionel says. Finally. "But first, I'd like to thank you all once again - "

Of course he would.

He takes a good ten minutes to express all his gratitude and El's blood is way past its boiling point.

"Now, what you've all been waiting for," Lionel brings out a tiny manila envelope from the pocket of his pants, "the results of this year's Ashes versus Woods competition! I actually don't know why I have this envelope. I was the one who tabulated the results!" He chuckles.

El clenches her fists when Lionel's wrinkly old fingers graze the envelope's flap.

"Before I do this, I'd just like to congratulate everyone once again - "

"Get on with it!" That's most likely Isaac but El's mind doesn't register anything aside from the movement of Lionel's hands on the yellowish envelope.

Lionel purses his lips. He rips the envelope open in a quick motion and brings out a sheet of paper that looks like it's been ripped out of a notebook. "With eighty five points accumulated this entire summer - "

El does quick math in her head, which is an entirely bad decision on her part since she's studying Psychology, recalling each normal activity garners each team a point. Music jams are worth ten points. The Mid-summer Swim Meet gave the Woods twenty points. Capture the flag was fifty points for the Ashes. Eighty five seems like a very low number to win by -

" - both teams have tied!" Lionel announces.

"What?" all counselors but El interject.

"I know right?" Lionel says. "What are the chances?"

This is anticlimactic if El has ever seen it. Thirty days of constant competition, thirty days of being at everyone's throats, thirty days of anitcipation and this is where it ends. At a tie. How fucking disappointing.

"I can see how crestfallen you all are. But I think it's great we have a tie!"

El was hoping the Ashes would win, of course. Not just because she's obsessed with winning in general, but it would also prove that girls are capable of doing better than boys. Especially when the expectation is the complete opposite. She's curious to see how Lionel will twist this tie into something positive.

"Think of it this way," he says, eyes flitting to El, "Ashes and Woods had the same amount of points. You're all equally skilled. Boys, girls, everyone did great. It just goes to show that no gender is better than the other, really." Lionel's moustache twitches as he grins at El. "I understand that now. Congratulations to all of you. You did me and your counselors proud!"

Okay, that was pretty good. El returns Lionel's grin. "Thank you," she mouths to him.

⌚ 3:02 PM

To say El is overwhelmed is a complete understatement.

She doesn't recall the last day of camp ending so early in the previous years. Throngs of parents and minivans crowd the gravelly parking space near the entrance of Camp Ashwood. El spots Grace's pink BMW and the even older-looking sign stating "CAMP ASHWOOD: ALLOW THE SHIMMERING LIGHTS OF SUMMER TO REFRESH AND ILLUMINATE YOUR FERTILE YOUNG MINDS!" above the heads of sweaty parents and campers.

Already, Jana, Alex, and a few other Cabin A campers had bid her farewell, practically being dragged away from El as she gave them wobbly smiles and forced them to come back next year. Cassie's mom had eyed her in disgust - the pale middle-aged woman frowning deeply. She'd whisked little Cassie away from El like the counselor was a terrorist or something. Maybe she'd assumed that was the case - El's used to such assumptions by now.

"Your parents here, yet?" El asks Bianca when the number of parents and campers are dwindling. Laura pops up beside her, lugging a purple suitcase behind her.

"Nope," Laura replies. Bianca shakes her head.

Brittany appears at El's side suddenly, a tired-looking man carrying her pink suitcase right behind her. "I gotta go," she tells El, pointing a finger at who El presumes is Brittany's father.

"Okay," El nods, "I'll see you." She takes a moment to smile at Brittany's father - the effort is excruciating as the man is practically scowling at her. "Thank you for bringing your daughter to Camp Ashwood. We've had a lot of fun."

"You should have," he says. "I payed a good two thousand dollars for this."

"Daddy!" Brittany slaps him playfully on the arm. She then takes El's wrist. "Thanks for everything."

A few weeks ago, El would have never thought those words would escape the blonde's shiny lips. The warmth in Brittany's smile takes her aback. "No problem. You're coming back next year, right?"

Brittany tilts her head slightly. "Most likely. If daddy here is willing to fork over another two thousand."

"I'll think about it," the man in question barks. "Let's go, Brit."

With a quick hug, Brittany says goodbye to El, Bianca and Laura, then gets into her father's SUV.

"Well, he's a dick," Laura mutters as soon as they've driven away.

"Would you expect anything less from Brittany's dad, though?" Bianca says.

El's eyes wander to the other side of the parking space for a moment. Finn has a ten year old boy on his back, the littler of the two messing with his hair. They're both laughing hysterically as a girl that looks about El's age watches them fondly. Eventually, Finn lets the boy down and giving the girl his signature boyish smile, a piece of paper exchanges hands. The girl holds a hand up to her ear, the standard "call me" gesture, and she drives off with the ten year old in the back seat.

Finn glances at the piece of paper briefly and chuckling before tucking it into his pocket. El finds herself smirking. Finnegan Johnson, ever the charmer.

"You really have to decide now, El," Bianca says, poking at her. "Why the hell are you checking out Finn when you have Grace eating your - "

"Okay, stop. Just because camp is over doesn't mean you can talk that way," El says pointedly.

Laura sniggers. "C'mon El, loosen up. This is the last time you'll be seeing us."

It is, and El doesn't want it to be. "Fortunately."

"Wow, El, that cut deep. Way deep."

"Counselor El. Do you not know what respect is?"

"Camp's over, babe. Respect doesn't count anymore."

"Bianca, I am this close to kicking you in the face."

"No, El, you wouldn't."

"Counselor El totally would."

"Thank you, Laura."

Their intense banter is oh-so-kindly interrupted by an impatient horn. This one is particularly high-pitched and whiny. El looks around to find the source of the noise is an old Volkswagen Bug, an old lady at the driver's seat with totally unnecessary driving gloves on.

"Oh," Laura says, crestfallen. "That's my grandma. I better go."

Bianca's hands find Laura's arm, her knuckles white from squeezing so hard. "Don't."

"C'mon, Bianca, we go to the same school. It's not like I won't be seeing you at all."

"Still..." Bianca blushes. "I'll - I'll miss you."

Laura leans in close, her chin nearly resting on Bianca's shoulder. El can only barely make out what the girl is whispering. "You know I'm lactose-intolerant. Don't be so cheesy." And with that, she gives El a farewell and a hug, and she skips to her grandmother's car.

"Bye!" Laura calls. "I'll call you," she tells Bianca. "See you next year!" she tells El.

As they drive off, El turns to Bianca, a suggestive smirk on her lips that Isaac would be proud of. "You go to the same school?"

"Shut up."

El chuckles, throwing her arm around the significantly shorter Bianca. "You are in too deep, m'friend. No one gets turned on by lactose-intolerance."

"I wasn't turned on."

"Shit, I forgot, you're like, twelve. I shouldn't be saying these things to you."

"You've said a lot worse, believe me."

"I've probably scarred you for life, huh?"

"No, not really. You pretty much made this the best summer of my life."

El's throat closes up, a warmth blooms in her chest. "Jesus, you're cheesier than a Domino's pizza." But she's smiling and she's pulling Bianca closer to her.

"At least let me have this." Bianca shoves El lightly. "I just wanted to say thanks. You're the first person I told about my...feelings. And you were cool about it. Thanks. For that."

"You're welcome," El replies softly. Who'd have thought she'd be getting all worked up because of a twelve year old? She better get her act together - where's her cold nineteen year old aura gone?

They just stand there for awhile, comfortable in their silence, until only four campers are left and Bianca's parents arrive. Her mother (she introduces herself as Dina) is beautiful, her long hair the same shade of brown as her daughter's. Her father Alistair's beard is wild and thick - El can barely see his eyes through the deep bush of it. Both are dressed laid back - shorts and tank tops and flip flops.

"You must be El," Dina greets, shaking El's hand eagerly.

El tries to sound polite amidst her confusion. "How do you -?"

"Oh, I know your mom from work," she replies. El wonders why she hasn't seen Dina before. (Then again, she has heard her mother talk ill of some Dina the Dreadful.) "I specifically asked for you to be Bianca's counselor."

El glances at Bianca, who says, "I did not know that."

"Thank you," El tells Dina. "Bianca's been great." She hopes she doesn't come off as too attached.

Alistair takes Bianca's bags. "I hope so," he says jokily.

"Dad."

"Say bye to El, now," he tells his daughter, changing the subject. "Your mom and I'll be waiting in the car."

"But I'd like to talk to El a bit more - "

"Didi..."

"Okay, fine, fine! It was nice talking to you, El!"

"Same here."

"I suck at goodbyes,"Bianca says earnestly once her parents are out of earshot.

"So do I." El is not looking forward to the rest of the goodbyes she has to give away later. "How about we call this a 'see you later'?"

"Isn't that a quote from a Nicholas Sparks movie or something?"

"Don't ruin the moment, kiddo."

"I have a name, you know."

"Yeah." El ruffles Bianca's now shaggy pixie cut. "I know. See you later, Bianca."

"See you later, El."

"Counselor El."

"Not happening!"

⌚ 5:38 PM

El should have known it was too good to be true when the campers were let off early. Really, it was stupid of her to think the day would end once the campers were gone. Back when she was a camper, she really didn't think much of the remnants of the summer she'd stayed at Camp Ashwood, who'd clean it all up.

Now, El has the answer.

She does. She has to clean it all up.

It's as if someone pressed rewind on the entire summer - ten counselors are doing the opposite of what they did on the first day of camp. El recalls perfectly well winding these streamers around the trees (of course now, they're all torn and muddy) and getting stuck in the colorful strips of paper, causing Grace to show her first act of kindness to El.

She pries the crusty streamers from the bark of a skinny tree and sighs. After this, she still has to sweep the stage and organize the Sports Shack. This will be a long night.

"You up for a break?" and that's Finn, suddenly, leaning against the tree El is trying to un-decorate.

"I have to - "

"Come on, don't act like you haven't been sighing for the past hour."

"I wasn't - !"

"Yadda, yadda, let's go." He grabs El's wrist, making her let go of the blue streamer she's been tearing off a particularly attached branch and pulling her away.

"Yo, Finnegan, no funny business, 'aight?" Grace calls from where she and Sky are taking down the "FAREWELL, CAMPERS!" banner. Sky currently has half the thing draped over her head.

"Calm down, Gracie! If you think I'm whisking your girlfriend away to some deep part of the woods to make out with her - "

Grace flashes Finna perfectly manicured middle finger. He laughs and leads El into a mass of trees.

The feeling of the twisted branches looming above her is one El will yearn for later. The dewey scent of the grass crunching under her old hiking boots overwhelms her, reminding her that this will be the last time she'll be able to smell this.

Finn finally stops, and it's by the lake, with S.S. Taylor bobbing idly near the shore.

"No," El says immediately.

"C'mon, El, for old time's sake!" Finn pleads. His grip on her wrist gets tighter - she didn't even notice he hasn't let go yet.

"I hate boats," she says as if the three words suffice as a reason.

He gives her those damn puppy dog eyes - the ones she used to swoon at. Now, she certainly doesn't swoon at his bright blue irises, but they still do the trick. "Fine," she mutters, climbing into the boat.

Finn grins, helps her in, and gets in after her. He rows smoothly across the lake.

"Finally found a castle to whisk me off to, Prince Charming?" El asks after a significant amount of silence. She isn't gripping the sides of the boat as fiercely as she used to, but that doesn't mean she's not terrified.

"Sadly, no. I don't know. I just wanted to row you around."

"Why?"

"Because I want to enforce my stereotype as the love interest of the protagonist of a teen fiction novel, I don't know!"

"That's oddly specific."

"I just want to forget this is ending, that's all."

"Don't get all philosophical on me, now. You know I can't deal with that shit."

Finn snorts, shaking his head. "I'll miss this."

El bites her lip to stop a grin from creeping onto her lips. Her stomach is churning but that's probably because the boat is swaying slightly. "Miss what, exactly?"

"I can't tell you, or I'd get too philosophical."

"Ha ha," El rolls her eyes, "you're hilarious."

He lets the oars rest at the sides of S.S. Taylor and spreads his arms. "You know you love me." He beams at her, curling his fingers in his direction, inviting her into an embrace.

El rolls her eyes but obliges. She marvels at how tightly Finn's bulky arms are wrapped around her torso, how he smells of campfires and lakewater. "Maybe a little bit," she says into his shoulder.

The boat tips slightly under their weight. "As long as we don't fall into the water," El adds as an afterthought.

⌚ 6:40 PM

"You're welcome," Grace spits into El's face once she and Finn return from the lake.

"What?" El asks, still giggling slightly at the image of Finn tripping out of S.S.Taylor and landing on his face.

"I did all your work for you," Grace replies. "Took those damn streamers down, and swept the damn stage, and organized the damn sports shack - the bows are looking fucking pristine, if I so say so myself - "

El's eyes widen. "You didn't have to - "

"But I did!" Grace screeches. "I did because you were too busy frolicking in the woods and ignoring your responsibilities - "

El pulls at the strap of Grace's tank top, so the blonde kind of trips into El's arms. She lets her lips brush briefly against Grace's glossy ones, smiling feebly. "Thank you," she murmurs as she pulls away.

Grace is red and Finn whistles low. Grace kicks him harshly in the shin.

"What's gotten into you?" Grace asks earnestly.

"Camp's ending, hormones, you're extremely attractive when you're angry," El shrugs. "You know."

"This is weird," Finn says.

"And you're a perv," Grace replies. Then to El, she says, "By the way, Lionel called you to his office."

"Shit, someone's in trouble!" Finn taunts.

"Did he say why?" El addresses Grace. No way she's even going to acknowledge Finn.

"Maybe because of something like this?" Grace holds up a fancy-looking envelope, "EXTRA CREDIT FORM: GRACE UPLAND" written on the front of it.

El almost forgot about that. The thought has been sitting at the back of her brain for the entire month, for sure, but with everything that's going on, it's kind of slipped her mind that the reason she's done all this is for extra credit. "Does Finn have one?" she asks Grace.

"I'm standing right here, you know."

"No, he doesn't. Finn volunteered for no reason. He's just one of those people."

"I can hear you!"

"Go," Grace ushers El away. "Lionel's been waiting awhile."

His office is a lot neater than the last time El was here. Lionel's papers and the various knickknacks previously dotting the space are in boxes under his desk, the small shack feeling a lot emptier than before.

"Take a seat, El," Lionel tells her upon her entry.

She does, the leathery surface of the chair she settles her butt on sinks. "Hey," she says to no one in particular.

Lionel takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Here," he produces an identical envelope to Grace's from a drawer in his desk. He holds it out to El, a small smile beneath his gray moustache.

"Thanks," she says, taking it from him. "I hope you wrote good things about me."

"Oh, yes. Impatient with children, unstable emotions, slaps her own dad across the face - great things."

El blinks. "I actually believed you for a second there."

"How do you know I'm not telling the truth?"

"Because if you did write that, mom would personally come here and stab you."

"That's true. Lisa's fiesty," he says. El catches a hint of fondness in his voice.

"You can visit, you know. Check up on mom. You guys could talk again."

Lionel grimaces. "I'm not sure - "

"Just think about it, is all I'm saying."

"Okay - okay. I will."

"At least I have this now." She raises the envelope holding her extra credit triumphantly. "You've finally done something for me."

"Excuse you, I've done plenty! Who do you think paid all the bills when Lisa was waiting tables - "

"Lionel. I'm kidding."

"I - I know."

El is not very good at awkward silences, and even worse at breaking them. So imagine a bomb going off in a serene city - this is how El's next statement comes out. "What you said about the Ashes and the Woods thing awhile ago was cool, by the way."

Subtlety is not a strong point of El's, if that hasn't been blindingly obvious.

"I only learned from the best." Lionel winks.

"What an accomplishment - getting two misogynistic males to realize the error of their ways and get them on the right track!"

"I wouldn't call myself misogynistic now..."

"You so were."

"Who's the other one?"

"Isaac."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"I always thought the two of us got along quite well..."

"Except awhile ago."

"Were the hotdogs really that bad?"

"They kind of were."

Lionel and El laugh simultaneously until the pair have tears in their eyes and knots in their sides. El is probably laughing because she's overjoyed that she and Lionel are actually getting along, something she would never have thought was possible since finding out he'd impregnated her mother at the ripe age of nineteen.

El should probably let go of that thought, quick, or she might actually puke. Laughter and vomit do not seem like a good combination.

⌚ 8:20 PM

"This is it, then?" Will says.

"I guess so," Luke says.

Ten counselors (though technically, they aren't counselors anymore) stand in the gravelly parking space. El can barely make them out in the moonlight. It's kind of weird, actually, the ten of them stood in a circle like this. Like they're about to perform some sort of ritual. All that's left is some sort of animal to sacrifice at the center of the circle and someone donning priestly robes or something.

"Shit, guys, I think I'm actually gonna miss y'all," Sky says.

"That's reassuring," Louise says under her breath.

"We'll be keeping in touch, okay?" Jason insists. "We're friends, right?"

"Some of us here are more than friends," is Isaac's input.

"Look, dude, just because you're single doesn't mean you have to be bitter." Will shoves Isaac by the ear.

"And just because you're finally banging a hot chick doesn't mean you have to rub it in."

"Isaac, we talked about this," Grace says. "You do not bang."

"And I'm not just a 'hot chick.'" Louise rolls her eyes. "Even though I am hot."

"We're keeping in touch," Jason repeats. "You have to promise we don't forget about each other."

Mari snorts. "Please, Jason, how can I forget about the amount of times I've walked in on you and Luke - "

"Don't you dare - !"

"I'm scarred for life!"

El hasn't said anything; she doesn't feel that she has to. For once, she's satisfied with watching everyone interact, laugh, play around. It'll be strange to not have this sort of thing going on for awhile. But then again, if what Jason wants will happen, El will be having this sort of thing go on again pretty soon.

"We'll meet up again in like, two weeks," Finn assures Jason. "Bowling, a sleepover, one big, hot orgy - "

"Christ, Finn, you don't even like kissing," Grace says.

"I can't believe I'll be seeing you the most," he replies.

"Please, you'd be lost in Economics 101 if it weren't for me."

"Don't talk about college," Will cries. "I'm not ready to get back to that shithole."

"Neither am I," Mari says.

Everyone agrees.

"I can't believe this is actually over," El says - the first thing that's come out of her mouth in the last fifteen minutes.

"Don't cry on us, now," Isaac says.

"Fuck you."

El drowns out Isaac's retort and the rest of the conversation as she takes everything in a final time. All the stars visible in the sky - something she never gets to see living in the city, the almost invisible moon, the rustle of the leaves around her, the hum of crickets in the distance. She's suddenly enveloped in a mass of arms and chests and she realizes she's been pulled into a massive group hug and this is when she lets the tears fall. Just two, though; one from each eye. She'd done enough crying in this place already.

"Sayonara!" Mari calls from her black convertible - her car almost as luxurious as Grace's.

"Bye!" Isaac and Will say simultaneously before they drive away in Isaac's old Jeep.

A few goodbyes resound in the parking space and one by one, the cars empty out of Camp Ashwood and it's empty save for El and Grace.

"Ready to go?" Grace asks her.

El hops into Grace's pink BMW. (Good thing it's dark so the color isn't as blinding.) "Not really. But let's get outta here."

⌚ 9:42 PM

"You're actually serious about moving away?" Grace asks as she takes a left.

El likes the feeling of wind in her hair (she has the window down) as Grace's car zooms farther and farther from camp. They turn to a highway now, pairs of red lights scattered around them, the faint hum of different engines almost singing to El.

"Yeah, I think so." El shrugs, which is hard to do when she's strapped to her seat.

"Where?" Grace turns the volume of the radio down to a silent murmur.

"I don't know yet. My mom doesn't even know about this."

"But like, don't you live in a dorm during the school year?"

"No," El says slowly. "Never saw the need."

"You could move in with me," Grace offers.

It's as if everything around El stops all of a sudden. "What?"

"I mean, I live in a dorm with this irritating girl at college, but I could totally just get an apartment, you know?"

"With me?"

"Why not? We've lived together for a month already."

"That really didn't go well for the majority of the time."

"I'm just offering, god," Grace says, sarcastic frustration in her tone. "I just thought it would be cool."

"Take a right there."

"I think I know how to get us home, Elizabeth."

"You just missed the turn."

"...No, I didn't."

"You can take the next right."

"I knew that..." Grace lets her turn signal flash before steering the car into the correct road.

"It would be cool," El says, returning to the topic at hand. "I think I'd like that. Yeah, why not? Let's move in together! Like adults!"

"Glad you think so," and El knows Grace means to sound ambiguous but she sounds just as excited as El feels.

"No pink, though."

"Seriously?"

"No pink."

"It's a classic color!"

"You know what, on second thought, I don't think moving in together doesn't sound like such a good idea."

"There will be pink in our apartment. I will make sure of it."

⌚ 10: 16 PM

"So I guess this is goodbye?" El asks Grace when she pulls up in front of El's house. The white staccato of the building is almost foreign to El.

"Don't sound so fucking dramatic." Grace waves her off. "I literally live two streets over."

El grins. "But I'll miss you."

Grace is usually very good at not blushing, but she fails at concealing the shade of pink her cheeks turn this time. "Right. Okay. Sure."

"See you soon, then?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, it is."

"Bye, Elizabeth."

"Seriously, don't call me that."

____________________________________

a/n: WELL THAT ENDED ABRUPTLY LOL AFTER ABOUT 120K WORDS (2 lazy 2 actually count lolzor) hope i didnt disappoint

instead of my usual apology for the quality of the chapter, i will just say this: thank you. really. without any of ur support i would never have gotten this far with all my tiny children. i've grown way too attached to el and grace and finn and even isaac and lionel lmao

also a huge thanks to @mehmory for the fucking amazing art at the top it gave me genuine feels

and a reminder: i will be holding a one shot competition so watch out for that!! (and pls enter so i dont look stupid)

once again, i'd like to thank each and every one of you who have been with me throughout el and grace's story; i love you all so so so much shit im actually getting kinda emotional wtf the fuck