⌚ 3:50 AM

"El? Are you awake?"

El is trying not to wake up to Finn breathing into her ear. She's trying very very very hard.

"El!" Great, he's shaking her now. Still trying not to wake up.

"WAKE UP!" What did El do to deserve this? Oh right, she didn't pass Psychology. Great.

"Wake up, Elizabeth." Grace. She's still face-down on her pillow. "Leave me alone."

Not that El takes orders from Grace, but she opens her eyes. Upon seeing Finn standing over her, she feels a little better about waking up at dawn. Finn reminds El of her mother. Who was crying when she called El. That memory gets stomped down.

"This better be good," El groans.

She's still half-asleep when she rolls out of bed and feels around for her shorts. Finn can probably see her underwear as she pulls her shorts on, but like, half-asleep. So whatever. This means she's not in the right state of mind to be caring about the state of her hair, or how toxic her morning breath is, or how crusty her eyes are or how that trail of dribble on her chin. Way to look attractive to a cute boy, El.

"Where are you taking me?" El feels gross tickle her feet - she vaguely remembers jamming them into some flip-flops.

"We're having a picnic."

"Wait," El says, suddenly feeling more awake. "Are you - are you pulling a Troy Bolton on me?"

Finn's lip twitches a bit and El catches it. "...I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do!" El untangles herself from Finn's arm (when did that happen?). Whenever High School Musical comes into the picture, El's full attention is captured. She's awake now. "You obviously know what I'm talking about!"

He tries to deny again but El's not having it. Her mouth is running lose so when Finn stops abruptly, she collides right into him.

"Look," Finn says and El notices he's trying to block her view. "If I say that I'm pulling a Troy Bolton on you, will you shut up and eat?"

El nods.

"I'm pulling a Troy Bolton on you."

"I knew it!" 

Finn rolls his eyes, finally getting out of El's way, revealing a red-checked picnic blanket with a basket on it. She mutters another "Troy Bolton" before sitting down and peering into the basket. Upon finding a tupperware of strawberries, she digs in.

"Hungry?" Finn tosses a blueberry into his mouth. Upon chewing, the juices stain his lip a slight bluish tinge. Not like El's looking there or anything.

"No," El replies sarcastically after a pregnant pause, swallowing the last of the strawberries (every single one of the tupperware eaten by her and only her).

"I guess not, then," Finn says. He rolls a blueberry between his thumb and forefinger before bringing it to his lips. The absolutely orgasmic expression on his face does not make El's lungs collapse on themselves. She's only able to glare at him.

"I hate you."

"If you do, why are you having a picnic with me?"

The rate that El's heart is pounding is probably illegal in all fifty states of America. She's not sure if she likes it or not. "Well considering you dragged me out here - "

"You didn't protest!"

"Didn't have the energy to," El dismisses.

"Okay," El doesn't like Finn's grin, "what if I told you that you're actually sitting on poison ivy right now?"

Take note that El is still slightly sleepy, full of strawberries and is gullible when it comes to the opposite gender (see also: Finnegan What's His Last Name). Please, please remember that as her butt shoots right off the picnic blanket and immediately leads back on the grass in a majestic swirl of awkwardness. And forgive her while you're on that.

"Y-you actually fell for that?" Finn says in between chortles, his face scrunched into a bundle of pure bliss. "I got you so good!"

"Ha ha," El deadpans, brushing herself off. "You got me so good."

"I got you so good!"

El rolls her eyes. "That was cruel."

"No," Finn's laughter has significantly died down but the occasional giggle escapes from that pretty little mouth, "that was hilarious."

"You really can't blame me for going batshit crazy, with the poison ivy crotch incident being pretty traumatic." She's attacking the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (where did those even come from?) now. El can't help but let a significant amount of blood rush to her cheeks.

This causes Finn to explode in a new fit of laughter. Hyperventilating and face-scrunching included.

Most probably, El's daily eye rolling limit has long been surpassed.

"Elizabeth!" Grace's shrill voice cuts through Finn's wailing (his laughter is sounding very much like the cry of a dying seal). "Take a bath before you kill Finn with your stench!"

If it were possible, Finn laughs even harder.

"I hate you," El repeats, her peanut butter and jelly-coated middle finger erect in agreement to her words.

"Elizabeth!"

She hates how she feels obligated to stand up. "Coming, your majesty!"

⌚ 7:07 AM

El is lacking sleep and full of strawberries and half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This means she is in no mood or form for any more food to be piped into her stomach.

"You better eat up," Will nudges her.

It's a shame the breakfast is actually looking edible. If it means anything, even Grace is eating the veggie omelet. El figures a few bites won't hurt. Turns out it will hurt, as her stomach rumbles in protest at her first swallow. "I can't," she says faintly.

"You're hiking, though!" Finn grins, omelet chunks spilling from his mouth.

El glares at him with enough fire to burn the entirety of Camp Ashwood; he did this on purpose, she thinks, he probably wants me to collapse halfway up the hill later.

Isaac is the first to finish his food. "I can finish that for you, El," Isaac sneers, "since you're absolutely stuffed."

He's in on this! El accuses internally. He totally knew this was happening! Isaac probably told Finn to stuff me silly so I wouldn't be able to hike. They're ganging up on me, obviously. But why? I haven't been winning, like at all (screw Lionel) and hiking isn't even going to be a competition. He's just - 

"You okay?" Louise mutters to her.

"Yeah," El exhales. "Fine."

Louise looks like she's about to question her further but as El's eyes widen a fraction, she shuts up.

"So...are you eating or what?" Isaac pipes up after a beat.

El rolls her eyes and slides the tray towards Isaac. "Bon appétit."

⌚ 9:36 AM

Hiking is just as horrible as El recalls. It's probably even more horrible now that she's a counselor. The complaints she once spat out at her counselor are drenching her now:

"It's so hot!"

"I'm tired!"

"My legs hurt!"

"Spider!"

"Did I actually just step in actual shit - "

"Water! I need water!"

And so on. That paired with physical exertion is not a fun time. El's legs feel like they're about to fall off, her head is spinning from the heat, her breaths are short and rapid. Keep in mind that they've only been hiking for a little over an hour. There's seven hours to go.

"Fun times," El says under her breath. She miscalculates; her foot gets caught on a tree root and she lands on her knees.

"Whoa," that's Bianca hooking El's arm through hers, helping her up.

"Thanks," El says.

"Tired?" Bianca raises her eyebrows.

It's no fair; how is a twelve year old less exhausted than nineteen year old El? She can barely stand, honestly. Physical activity and she have never really had a good relationship. "No," El replies defiantly. She's not admitting that to these little brats, though.

"Ellie," a ten year old whose name El vaguely recalls is Sarah pulls at her soaking shirt, a knowing smirk on her small lips. "I'm hungry."

Luckily, El is too tired to retort about "Ellie" so she gives Sarah a lopsided grin. "So am I, kid."

"Can I have a cookie?"

El frowns. If she recalls correctly (and she's certain of it), Will snuck the zip lock bag full of shortbread into her backpack for, well, her. "Since we know hungry you can get," was what Will joked as he zipped her backpack.

There is no way in hell that she's going to give this kid a cookie. "Okay." El reaches into her bag (a true feat, really, since it's hanging on her back). Damn Sarah's puppy dog eyes.

This, unfortunately, causes the rest of Cabin A to think that El is generous enough to give them nearly all of her cookies. She does, by the way. Because she actually feels for the girls. She just doesn't appreciate that she's left with only a measly piece of shortbread for herself.

Sarah tugs at El's shirt again. "Can I have another cookie?"

El's stomach grumbles in response.

Sarah repeats her question, tugging more aggressive.

El keeps the cookie in her hand. She avoids Sarah's eyes.

"Ellie...can I have another cookie...?"

Thats it; she's had enough. "No," she snaps, "you can't have another stupid cookie." And she gobbles it up like a horse. A horse that hasn't eaten for weeks.

"Okay..." Sarah's eyes widen slightly; it's like El is clinically insane to her. Since no one wants to be near a clinically insane person, she steps back slowly as if trying not to unleash El's inner hulk or something.

"Let's go, ladies!" El grunts after swallowing the cookie. "We have a long day ahead of us!"

⌚ 1:41 PM

Her stomach full of refried beans, wheat bread, potato chips and water (thanks for the extremely healthy packed lunch, Campfeteria), El reaches the crest of the hill overlooking the entirety of Camp Ashwood (okay, maybe not the entirety; probably just fifty feet around). She can vaguely sense fourteen girls behind her but she's too busy feeling the sun on her back, the wind hit her face and all that jazz.

El almost feels like hiking for six hours was worth it. But as if on cue, her legs turn into useless marshmallows and no, it was not worth it.

She sits down (and not on poison ivy - she checked), ignoring the chatter going on behind her. El isn't one to get sentimental, now, still, she's overlooking Camp Ashwood. Her childhood. Winning activities, swimming in the lake, the Campfeteria's tacos, kissing Kimberly Jackson in her bunk (we don't talk about that) suddenly hit her like a dodgeball. As much as she hates to admit it, she does love this place. She just has a bitter image to uphold.

"Don't talk to me about a man's strength, Isaac!" Grace's shrill voice pierces through her blanket of thought. As always.

El decides that's enough of dwelling on the past - she might end up in tears. Glancing behind her, she finds that Cabin A are already comfortable and she figures she doesn't have to bother them now. El can do that later.

"You have four more chances!" It's refreshing to hear Grace's anger directed at someone else. El tries to spot the source of the argument...there! About twenty feet away, an eight foot long coil of rope on the ground, Grace looking up at Isaac and telling him off, Cabin B and Cabin F watching them like a wolf pack does when someone challenges the alpha (the alpha clearly Grace, of course). "Just give it to us!"

Isaac's voice quivers in a way that makes El surprised she even catches it. "It's not fair - "

"What's not fair?" Grace hands go on her hips - typical. "Do enlighten me, please."

"Lionel!" Isaac exhales in relief as the the camp director approaches them. "Tell Grace that it's not fair that her cabin won!"

El can imagine that Lionel's thick brow is furrowed. "Grace?"

Grace spits just as she would to El. It's very comical when El is not on the receiving end of it. "It's called strategy. We knew there would be seven rounds so my Cabin wore you out for the first two then BAM! we won. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, really."

The corners of El's lips only rise further up her cheeks. Grace isn't her favorite person in the world, sure, but she can admit that that is a prime example of burn.

Lionel has the same expression on his face. "Grace has a point, Isaac." (It turns out he is more fond of Grace then he is a misogynistic asshole.)

El hears her name from behind her. "Ready to go?" Brittany asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder. El holds up five fingers - five minutes.

"Fine," Isaac grunts. "You're going down, Upland."

"Oh, the irony." Grace giggles. "Let's do this!"

The two cabins take their places on either side of the rope; Grace and Isaac glare at each other at a safe distance of two feet. From El's vantage point, she can tell that Grace's glare is one of pure hatred (as she's been on the opposite end of this glare for years) while Isaac's is more of a god-you're-sexy-when-you're-this-mad (El has not been on the opposite side of this kind of glare from anyone; shame). 

"Oh, and Elizabeth?" Grace calls from the corner of her mouth. El totally doesn't almost bury her face in the dirt. She sits still, eyes wide at Grace's easy expression. "I can see you."

It takes El a full three minutes to recover, and that's with Bianca and Laura tugging each of her arms. She only speaks once Cabin A is halfway down the hill. "Can you believe she actually saw me?"

Bianca hums in acknowledgement. "You really weren't trying to hide, not gonna lie."

"Shut up," El says. Her legs are buzzing with energy, as if all the adrenaline in her body is telling her to run away. She tries to slow down for the sake of Cabin A.

"Oh my god, you're red!" Laura giggles, nudging Bianca. "El's so red!"

El's hands fly to her cheeks (they're burning) (with rage); still, she can't be as red as Bianca just turned. "I'm just dismayed, that's all."

"Big word? El? Saying?" Laura raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah right," Bianca mutters. "Dismay. That's it."

"And what are you implying, young lady?" El demands.

Bianca snorts (that "young lady" joke never gets old) and shrugs. "Nothing, ma'am."

"Shut up," El repeats quietly before stalking ahead of the group.

Laura and Bianca burst into a fit of laughter behind her. Okay, maybe El is grinning. She can imagine it's a grin of the deranged variation - one an evil scientist would wear upon plotting world domination. Frankly, El doesn't feel much different from that.

⌚ 7:00 PM

"Someone's exhausted," Louise says after El sits beside her.

"Yeah, hike for eight hours and if simultaneously take care of fourteen girls," El growls. She sinks her teeth into the Campfeteria's sloppy joe and nothing could taste better. "Then I'll throw myself into the lake if you aren't exhausted."

"And cranky," Louise adds under her breath. "Anything interesting happen?"

The image of Grace screaming her head off at Isaac flashes through El's mind. "Not much," she shrugs, "unless you count Tiffany running into a tree."

"I don't," Louise says, trying to hold back a laugh.

"How about here? What are the stats?"

"Stats? That makes the Ashes versus Woods thing sound a lot more interesting than it is."

"Don't;" El puts a hand up, "just tell me."

"Yeah, Louise," Jason pipes up from across them. "Tell her."

Louise's nostrils flare. "Well, Mari's cabin won against Luke's, Sky's lost against Finn's, mine lost against Jason's - "

"Hell yeah you did." Jason beams.

" - and uh, Grace's won against Isaac's." And then Louise sticks her tongue out at Jason.

El mentally scolds herself for even thinking yes, show Isaac who's boss, because that's Grace she's talking about. No matter how admirable her sass is, El does have a specific Grace-hating image to uphold. "What about Cabin J?"

"Will's cabin?" Louise looks amused. "I think they spent the whole day tying knots or some shit."

"That sounds a lot better than hiking."

Louise swallows the last of her sloppy joe. "Almost everything sounds better than hiking."

"How about death?" Jason says.

"Cancer?" Luke says from beside him.

"Period cramps?" is Sky's input.

"Losing an activity?" Will's smirk is unbearably punch-worthy.

"Blurred Lines?" Mari's is equally as infuriating.

"Diarrhea?" Isaac sings and El isn't even surprised.

"Poison ivy in the crotch," Grace concludes as she finishes the last of her tomato soup (her custom grilled cheese sandwich is long gone), licking her lips.

"Thanks for your input!" Louise says in her dripping-with-sarcasm-bright voice. "Way to be such downers."

Finn's face suddenly lights up in epiphany. "The worst sounding thing of all: people dissing Taylor Swift!"

⌚ 10:49 PM

After only eight nights at camp, it seems like El and Grace find themselves following something one could call a routine. El wouldn't say she's particularly happy with it but it beats trying to drown her parents' loud fights with even louder music back home. (That thought gets buried under the others about Camp Ashwood.)

It starts with Grace hogging the bathroom.

She goes in; impeccably done make up, bouncy hair, pink Camp Ashwood shirt, smelling slightly of sweat but in an annoyingly fragrant strawberry way, and comes out; bare faced (still gorgeous, damn her), hair brushed through, one of those pink things she likes to think is a nightgown, that strawberry smell back full-force. Grace vaguely gestures that it's El's turn, her tight expression reading, "hurry up, I need beauty sleep" and "you are the bane of my existence" at the same time.

El has no idea what Grace does once she's in the bathroom but she changes into her two night-old overly large shirt (today, featuring Chewbacca's face), splashes some water onto her face, and tries in vain to untangle her hair. It takes her about five minutes, then she's out and Grace is either scrolling through her phone or humming to herself in bed. Tonight, it's both.

Then Grace tells El to hit the lights and it ends there.

Tonight, though, both are feeling rather bold because Grace addresses El, "I hope you enjoyed that."

El's eyes pop open. "What?"

"That little thing that happened with Isaac that you caught."

"Oh, you mean your tug of war argument? Yeah, I did enjoy that."

Grace snorts. "Really...why?"

"Let me see," and El finds herself smirking, "it's always fun to see the two people you hate most interact, isn't it?"

"Aw honey," Grace says, her voice patronizing. "I'm one of the two people you hate most? That is too sweet."

"Only you, sweetheart." El might as well be choking on the amount of sarcasm in the cabin. "I have to applaud you for what you said."

"Isaac deserved it," Grace says bitterly. "Not fair, my ass. What, just because I have boobs and a vagina means I can't think of a strategy? Is his gigantic penis blocking his view of the truth? Christ."

"He deserves a paintbrush up his dick."

"OMG! That's so hilarious, El!"

"Joke's on you, Gracie. You just called me El."

"Oh, go fuck yourself. Wait, you already have! Like, twenty times with my calamine lotion."

And just like that, the almost tolerable sarcastic conversation between El and Grace has disintegrated. "Oh, I'm sorry! Should I have shared some with you? It's not as good as lube but it sure would help with that stick up your ass."

"Great comeback, Elizabeth," and the name sounds the bitterest it's ever sounded," you really hit home with that one."

"I appreciate the sentiment."

And that's the end of that.

Except...it isn't.

El has counted until seventy three until she's calmed down. (That included a lot of thrashing around in bottom bunk, biting her fists, pulling at her blanket just so it's about to rip in half, pulling at her hair, muttering enough profanity to last a decade and wiping the tears from her eyes - ugh, okay she's crying.) (Why? The last time she cried because of Grace was...well, graduation day. Confetti. Face. Explosion. Long story.)

"Grace?" she says at the same time Grace says, "Elizabeth?"

El is more startled than anything; stunned, even. "You first."

"I just," Grace exhales, "is anything going on...between you and Finn?"

The question actually sounds genuine. El hates that she feels the need to reply. "I haven't really spoken a word to him today - "

"What about this morning?"

This morning seems like an eternity ago. El is silent.

"Whatever. But no, I mean, going on?"

"Yeah!" El squeaks. (Really? Yeah go show your arch nemesis you're nervous. That's a great way to go.) "I mean no."

"Mm-hmm, that totally clears things up for me."

"Why do you care anyway?"

Grace sounds like she's choking on her own spit up there. "No reason."

"Really now?"

"Okay, I'll give you one reason: it's shut the fuck up."

El obliges, counting to ten before speaking again. "Grace?"

"It's getting late."

"I know."

"So can this wait?"

"That rhymed. And no, it can't."

"Shoot then." Grace yawns. "Make it quick," she warns.

El takes a deep breath. "Whydoyoucryinyoursleep?"

"I don't know if this ever occurred to you, Elizabeth," by the way her voice sounds, it seems Grace is already face down on her pillow, "but speaking involves opening one's mouth."

"Whydoyou...cry in your sleep?"

"...what?"

"You," and El is tired of this bullshit so she's saying instead of asking, "you cry. I wake up to you crying."

"I don't cry." Grace's tone is defiant. Too defiant.

"Uh yeah, you do," El insists, growing more impatient. "I wake up to it and it's annoying as hell. Just tell me why you cry."

"I don't."

"You do! Tell me for fuck's sake, it's not like I'm gonna judge you for it. Does Rob donate your Chanel purse to charity in your dreams?"

Fine, maybe El shouldn't have said that last part. She's tired. She can't think any straighter than Luke (or Jason) is. She doesn't care if she offends Grace. Why should she?

"I don't cry in my sleep."

"Come on - "

"Night, Elizabeth."

⌚ 11:56 PM

Grace cries in her sleep.

El doesn't have the heart to think I told you so.

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a/n: idek what this is sorry [insert excuses that ive said before blah blah] dedic goes to pho bc fanart!! whoa thanks again

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