Chapter Fourteen: It Only Takes A Moment

The first bell rang, but Sarah was already awake. She didn't sit up too quickly, not wanting to look suspicious, just rolled over and watched. But she didn't even need to watch to tell her that she'd succeeded at least in part, because there was a distinct odor wafting through the cabin.

Spoiled milk.

She pulled the blanket up over her mouth so no one would see her grin, as Hotshot got out of bed and sniffed suspiciously, then began to examine her bunk. "What the hell is going on?!" she demanded.

Sarah, of course, didn't answer. But she did keep watching. Everyone else was waking up now, and noticing the smell, and Hotshot roused Smurf. Waking up Smurf was never an easy task, and she was always the last one out of bed, but finally she did roll over and sit up.

Half of her face was bright red.

Sarah bit her lip to keep from cracking up, took a breath to try and compose herself and slipped out of bed.

Chauncey glared around the cabin dangerously.

"I want to know who's responsible," she declared. "If the culprit will step forward, the consequences will be lightened. But I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in this bunk, ladies. Who ever is responsible has until noon to come to me."

Yeah, Sarah thought, like that's going to happen.

Chauncey strode off to the shower; Hotshot stomped over to Sarah and Shakes's bunk. "You're going to pay for this."

"We'll see."

Sarah looked at Shakes. Shakes grinned, and Sarah smirked. Hotshot just glared.

"Just you wait."

And she went off to claim the second shower stall, to try and get rid of the stench.

On the other hand, Smurf was fairly unaffected: there was no mirror in the main part of the cabin, only in the bathroom; she hadn't yet seen her skin. Sarah wished there was some way to keep her from going to brush her teeth and seeing in the mirror, because walking into the dining hall and not knowing why everyone was laughing at her would make it even better.

But even so, it was going to be great.

Sarah got dressed and ready for the day feeling much more cheerful than she had since arriving at camp.

They tromped down to the dining hall and arrived as the third bell was ringing. Sarah watched as Smurf stomped past Blink, who saw her and started cracking up. She turned around and glared.

"Not one word," she hissed at him.

He caught his breath enough to answer, "I didn't say anything! But now that you mention it, your face kinda clashes with your hair."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not going to lower myself to your level, Blink. You know why?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"It's only two weeks until the first race. And you're going down." She tossed her blue and black hair over her shoulder and flounced off to her own table, leaving Blink still snickering behind her.

He looked over, caught Sarah's eye, and grinned. She smirked back.

*

No one stepped forward to fess up to Sarah's crime, of course. But Chauncey wasn't going to let it go and by lunch had caught up to Sarah in the bunk. "Look, I know you've been very frustrated, but you have to understand that such behavior is not acceptable–"

"It wasn't me," Sarah answered.

"Sarah–"

"Do you have any proof?"

"No." She crossed her arms. "I have no proof so I won't be punishing you. But I will be paying very close attention to your actions. Do you understand that?"

"Of course."

"Good. Keep it in mind."

Sarah flounced off to change for swimming, grabbed her deodorant and paused to apply it, then felt a shooting pain. She stared at the tube for a second and saw a small metal point among the white, and pulled it out to reveal a straightened paper clip.

It had hurt, but not much. She tossed the paperclip in the trash and didn't think of it again. If that was the best Hotshot and Smurf could come back with, she had no problems.

*

"You up for round two?" Blink asked cheerfully at the evening snack.

"Round two?"

"You don't think they're just gonna let it go, do you?"

"Well, no, but–"

"You've gotta be ready to come back again."

"Oh, great."

"Don't worry. I got it covered."

"How long is this going to go on for?" Sarah asked.

"Until someone gives up. You're not gonna give up on me, are you?"

She shrugged. "I don't want to get in trouble or anything."

"Don't worry. No one gets in trouble for prank wars."

"Chauncey seemed pretty serious."

"She's always serious, but she won't do anything. There's an official prank week later in the summer, so it's not like anyone cares."

She sighed. "Fine. So what's next?"

"IceyHot."

"What?"

"IceyHot cream poured into a shampoo bottle."

"Okay, but I don't have any IceyHot lotion."

"Got it covered. Triage keeps lots of it stocked up in the infirmary."

"If it's in the infirmary, how are we supposed to get it?"

"Leave that to me." He grinned. "I'll let you know what's going on tomorrow. Hey, Mush!" And he jogged off to catch up with Mush, who was about to run away for the evening, as his stalkers were walking in the door.

Sarah kind of stared after him. It was nice to have help and all, but Blink was a really strange guy.

*

"You owe me," Mush commented on their way off to morning activities.

"I know."

"I mean it. I'm exploiting my talent for you."

"Think of it as a test. If you're good enough to pull it off, you're just plain amazing."

"And if I mess up?"

"Well, sucks to be you." Blink shrugged.

"Oh, you so owe me. You got a thing for Sarah or is this just to piss off Smurf?"

Blink didn't answer.

"Ooooh, Bliny's got a cru-ush."

"Shut up."

"Don't worry about it. She's cute."

"Like you'd know."

"What?"

"Like you even like girls."

"Blink, I should point out again that I am doing you a favor, and that you shouldn't joke when you know full well I'm straight."

"Right." Blink nodded. "Sorry. Thanks for the favor, pal."

"Well, you owe me."

Their paths diverged then, Mush to go to the theater and Blink to head to sailing. Blink pounded his back gently and they walked off.

Mush sighed and wondered how he'd gotten talked into this. Okay, so Blink was his best friend at camp, but still. This was a stupid idea. But he'd agreed to it because… He thought about that for a second. He really had no reason. He hadn't ever really talked to Sarah and had no feelings about her one way or the other; he had always gotten along with Hotshot all right, and Smurf… Okay, he was good friends with Blink which meant that Smurf was perpetually suspicious of him, but he really had nothing against her and no urge to get involved with the Feud.

And yet here he was, planning to help with Blink's scheme.

Medda greeted him with a hug and tickle from the feathered boa she'd found back stage and made a habit of wearing. He gave her a semi-grin and sneezed, then wandered over to go wait for warm ups to begin as more people trickled in, Trixie among them, who immediately grabbed his arm and refused to let go.

He shot Maverick a pained look as he joined them in the circle to warm up. Maverick grinned; he'd actually been through that himself. Something about boys and theater… "Okay campers, everyone on your feet. Come on, let's go…"

Grudgingly, the group stood. Mush stepped away from Trixie and maneuvered himself so that Grammar was standing between the two of them, thankfully. He liked Grammar; she was intelligent, and, more importantly, didn't stalk him.

"Okay, make your faces really big… now really small…"

Same warm ups every day. Not that he was complaining. After all, that was how he knew he'd be able to put Blink's idiotic plan into effect.

"…Loosen your necks; gentle now, okay, moving down stretch your arms…"

Yeah, Maverick could have lead the morning warm up in his sleep. But then, Mush could have done it in his sleep. He stretched his arms.

"…deep breath, turn as far as you can. Okay, let the breath out and turn farther…"

He exhaled, turned, came back to center, and did it in the other direction, and waited.

"And now your legs; stretch your–"

"OW! Owwww, oh, God–"

"Mush?"

Okay. Right. He was overacting. But still, he was selling it. Mush stopped flailing and hopping on one foot, but kept grimacing in pain. Or rather, 'pain.' Because he'd never hurt himself stretching in his entire life, and really couldn't even imagine how he'd hurt himself stretching. But that didn't really matter too much, because everyone was looking on in concern.

Especially Trixie. Which hadn't been part of the plan. But he ignored her and threw a pained look at Maverick. "I must've over done it or something, I think I pulled a muscle…"

"Can you stretch it out?"

Mush grimaced and attempted to stretch his leg again, yelped in pain and shook his head quickly.

Maverick sighed. "You want to walk it out?"

Mush took a step, limped, and didn't say anything but winced in agony every time he put weight on his leg.

"Okay, uh… Right. Why don't you go up to the infirmary and ice it, then?"

Mush nodded and whimpered a little as he started off towards the door of the theater, impressed with himself for selling it.

"Trixie, you go with him."

And Trixie scampered up next to him and threw an arm around his shoulder for support–allegedly–and he wondered if maybe he hadn't sold the performance as well as he'd hoped. But it was too late for that now, and he limped with Trixie out of the theater and up the dirt path to the infirmary.

She chattered inanely and kind of annoyingly as they walked, and he figured that even if his leg didn't hurt, he'd have a legitimate complaint of a headache the way this was going. She was starting to irritate him… Okay, she'd started to irritate with twenty-four hours of camp beginning, but he had a fairly high tolerance for annoying people, as he also had four siblings and three of them were younger. And younger siblings were sort of annoying by default. But between Trixie and Smartass, he was really having trouble enjoying the summer as much as he should have.

He wondered if all theater boys had that problem, and if so, wondered if that was why there was an unusually high percentage of gay men in the theater. The girls drove them away from the female gender forever.

Okay, that was probably not it, he figured as they finally approached the infirmary. He turned the drama back on, having settled for a mild limp to hurry the hike along, and actually let himself cling to Trixie (since she insisted on clinging to him anyway) and began to groan with pain at every step again.

Triage had just returned from finishing her morning rounds of cabin inspections and gave him a serious look through her glasses. "What's the problem, Mush?"

Girls, he thought, but answered, "My leggggggg, I think I pulled a muscle and it huuuuuuurts."

Hmmm. That was whinier than he'd wanted; he was hoping for pathetic and in pain. But it would have to do.

"Well. Have a seat then," she said, and gestured to one of the many chairs that littered the main infirmary room. "I was just about to put on a movie for the sick kids; I'll be back in a moment." She disappeared into her own room and produced a stack of rented, G-rated Disney movies, then went off down the hallway. Minutes later, sleepy campers with chicken pox still visible on their faces and limbs wandered into view, sat down, and she turned on the movie.

Jack and David were the last two to show up. Jack's hair was unbrushed and without the bandana to hold it back it was falling so far into his face that there was no way he could see through it. Which was sort of similar to David, who couldn't see because his eyes weren't actually open. He looked kind of like a zombie, stumbling through the hall.

"Hey!" Mush greeted them cheerfully.

"Mmphs. Imasleep lemmelone."

Jack managed a slight laugh at David and translated, "I think that means, 'hey, what's up?' but it's so hard to tell before he's had coffee."

"Shuduhhhh…"

"Hey, Davey," Mush answered.

"Hey." It was the first coherent word he'd managed all morning.

Jack sat down near Mush and David sat down next to Jack. "So," Jack said, "what's up?"

"Pulled muscle." Mush made a face, and Trixie stood behind him and began to give him a back rub, which he really didn't want to and winced away from. She pouted at that, but he didn't see because he didn't care enough to turn around and look. Jack chuckled a little; like most of Mush's friends, he found the poor guy's girl problems hysterical.

"That sucks," Jack said, as Triage started the movie and shushed them. She unceremoniously handed Mush an ice pack and sent Trixie back to the theater, and the group lapsed into a quiet. Mush glanced over at Jack and David, wondering just how sick they were, but really they didn't look too bad anymore. Just a few scabbed over pox on Jack's face and arms; it was a lot harder to see David's face, because he'd promptly leaned over on Jack's shoulder and had fallen asleep again, and Jack's hair blocked the view.

Jack was very careful not to move and wake him.

Mush's leg went numb after about twenty minutes, and Triage asked him how he was doing. "Uhhh… I think it's okay for now but… I dunno, if I really hurt it it might be worse again later."

"You can come and ice it again, then," she answered.

"Yeah, okay." He ran a hand through his hair. "Just, if it's at night or something, y'know, it would be a stupid thing to wake you over."

"Mmm, that's true," Triage agreed. "Well, I'll tell you what; you remind me after lunch and I'll bring you a tube of IceyHot to use this evening if it's still bothering you. But really, if you're more careful when you stretch, it shouldn't be a problem."

"I'll be careful," he promised, and gave the icepack back to her, and stood. His leg was cold and wet and numb. He threw one last glance at Jack, who waved goodbye a little, and at David, who still hadn't shifted off of Jack's shoulder. He looked quite comfortable, really; and Jack had put an arm around him to sort of prop him up.

It looked very cozy. Mush supposed they'd bonded over being locked in the infirmary together, and started out. He didn't have to fake the limp this time; his leg was numb enough that walking was a little difficult.

But he'd have the IceyHot for Blink after lunch, so his mission was accomplished.

The things he did for his best friend…

*

It was their last night in the infirmary. Triage had informed them cheerfully that, while a few scabs did remain, everyone was basically healthy again and could return to life as normal. Finally.

On the one hand, Jack was thrilled; he was feeling better and more energetic and found lying around the nurse's cabin all day really, really boring. Except for when David was talking to him, because he hung on David's every word; it was like Dave never said anything that wasn't fascinating and eloquent. Jack could listen to David talk for hours.

But David didn't talk much. He was feeling better too, but unlike Jack he relished the chance to sleep in and spend the day dozing off. Jack sighed.

Maybe David didn't talk that much, but he'd miss the few conversations they had. He'd miss them a lot, but David was absolutely stuck on his 'no riding' policy, and there was no getting him to change that. Which meant that after they left the infirmary, they wouldn't be seeing much of each other anymore, and Jack couldn't help but be a little depressed about the fact.

But he had other things on his mind, too.

"Dave?" he asked, checking to see if his bunkmate had conked out for the night yet.

"Mmph?"

"I gotta plan."

"Uh… Okay."

"To get back at Sneakers, 'cause he set me up."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I remember that."

"You wanna help me?"

David rolled over on his side and gave Jack a strange look through the dim light. "Uh…"

"Don't worry, it's nothing malicious or anything, just… Ya know, all in good fun. And you wouldn't get in trouble, I'm the counselor so I can take the blame if we get caught. Which we won't."

"Uh… Why me? I mean, yeah, sure, I'll help but I'm not exactly… Experienced at that sort of thing."

"I need your help 'cause I need someone in your bunk and Race is too obvious." Jack grinned.

"Okay, then… Sure, I guess. What's the plan?"

So Jack told him.

*

Sarah was tired of waiting. She was tired of waiting and tired of being paranoid and just plain sick of everything. The only good news she had was that Jack was out of the infirmary, and back at riding and as gorgeous as ever; and at least he and David were still good friends so she'd be able to make David help her out on that front. But the situation in her bunk–and the situation with Blink–was starting to just get out of hand.

The problem in the bunk was that Sarah knew Hotshot and Smurf were planning something. It had been three days, and Hotshot still had the vague scent of spoiled milk, but there was no chance they wouldn't try to get revenge. And Sarah was ready for another round, but she couldn't do anything until they did. And they weren't doing anything. Just smirking knowingly, and waiting.

It was evil. She was starting to be as paranoid as, well, Mush.

Actually, her situation was more comparable with Mush's than she wanted to think about. Because he had his stalkers, and she had Blink. And she appreciated his help with the prank war, she'd have no idea what to do without him. And the pranks he'd suggested had gone brilliantly.

But he kept… Talking to her. Not that she really minded casual conversations, but his awkward attempts at flirting were just kind of sad. She was used to flirting, that was part of who she was at home, but he seemed to never, ever have done it before. But he insisted on trying anyway. And it wasn't just in her imagination, because Shakes had noticed too, and they'd discussed it at great length.

She felt almost bad for Blink but had yet to come up with a way to tell him that no, it just wasn't going to happen. Especially not now that she had Jack to gaze at again.

What was weird, though, was that every time she went to gaze at Jack outside of riding, there was David, right there next to him. They'd be talking or laughing or if nothing else, just together. She wondered how that had happened.

David had never, ever been friends with the cool kids. But at camp, Jack was undeniably the center of cool; he'd been there for too long, he knew everyone, he could get away with things no other counselor and no camper could. Everyone wanted to hang out with him; the little kids loved him, she was definitely not the only camper (or counselor, for that matter) who had a crush on him; and the administration doted on him.

It was kind of ridiculous.

But it was even more ridiculous because for whatever reason, Jack had apparently mistaken David for someone who was also cool. That was irritating. It was the sort of thing that would never happen somewhere normal, like school. She hated the differences between camp and school. She'd never expected to want summer break to end, so she could get back to classes, but she'd have given anything to be away from camp, and these people, and this social system that was the total opposite of everything normal.

Any place where David could be considered popular was not somewhere she wanted to spend time… All she could do was console herself with the fact that, with two weeks of camp finished, she was a quarter of the way through the summer.

*

David stared at the clock. He'd been staring at the clock for hours, since lights out, as it was the only sure way not to fall asleep… He had a much easier time readjusting to the camp schedule than he'd expected, thankfully, and had been out of the infirmary in time to audition for the third week's show. Which wasn't even really a show, just a collection of the songs from Schoolhouse Rock, with various solos and chorus numbers and some ridiculous dialogue to string them together.

It was almost one in the morning and he felt jittery and sleepy at the same time. Like if he took his eyes off the clock he'd fall asleep instantly, and leave Jack sitting out in the field waiting for him. It was Jack's night to patrol until one in the morning, and his plan called for David to meet him right after, with the ill gotten gain stolen from Sneakers's drawer after the laundry came in Monday morning.

In other words, all of Sneakers's pairs of boxer shorts except the one he had on. Jack had nabbed a bunch of safety pins off the clothesline behind the Higgins's house, there was a large flagpole up at the top of camp which could really be seen from anywhere on the camp property, and it was possibly the most classic prank in existence.

Twelve fifty-seven. Fifty-eight.

David sat up in his bed and yawned a little, tried to quietly slide down the ladder without injuring himself, stepping on Race in the bunk beneath him, or waking anyone up. It was a bit more difficult than he'd expected.

Twelve fifty nine. He pulled on the jeans he'd worn the day before, his sweat shirt, and sneakers.

One AM.

As quietly as possible, David crept out of the cabin. His heart was racing and he was afraid it might actually be beating so loudly it would wake up Sneakers. He'd never done anything like this before; he'd been dragged along that first night of camp, but here he was, willingly sneaking out on his own to pull a prank he knew he could get in trouble for. And that was not something he had ever pictured himself doing before.

David had always known he was a bit of a goody two shoes, he'd just never cared. He didn't like breaking rules, it made him feel guilty and nervous and he was always terrified of being caught. And even if he didn't get caught he always felt so bad about getting away with something he shouldn't have done that he would confess.

And yet here he was, out of his bunk long after curfew, stolen boxer shorts in a bag in one hand, trying to quietly follow the path up to the flagpole.

Jack had better appreciate this, he thought as he walked.

*

Jack was leaning against the flagpole, watching the path for David, a cigarette dangling from his hand. He could feel the dew on the grass start to soak through his shoes, but he was used to that. They'd be dry by morning.

He checked his watch. It was five after. He wondered if David had fallen asleep or decided not to come, or–

He took a drag on the cigarette and told himself to calm down. David didn't know the camp paths as well as he did, so even though the moon was just about full and provided plenty of light, he'd take longer than Jack would to get up to the flagpole. Nothing to worry about. David was a responsible, reliable guy.

He hoped.

And sure enough, a minute later David appeared on the path, silhouetted against the moonlight and its reflection in the lake. Jack bit his lip a little and wondered if this was a good idea after all… Him, the guy he had a crush on, a full moon and starry sky with a gorgeous view…

Right, well, he wasn't going to do anything stupid. Just get the prank all set up and send David back off to bed. No matter how much he wanted to do… Well, to do something which would, without a doubt, be stupid.

David walked up to him and dropped the bag in the grass, glanced up at Jack, who grinned. "Smoke?" he offered, holding up the remainder of the cigarette.

"That's disgusting, Jack."

Jack shrugged. "Bad habit, but hard to kick." He dropped the cigarette and smothered the embers with his foot.

"You should really work on that."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Do you know how many people die of lung cancer every year? It's–"

"Davey, come on," Jack interrupted. One the one hand, it was nice that David was so concerned about his health; on the other hand, there was no way for someone who smoked to not know the health risks involved, and having them repeated over and over was just irritating.

"Sorry," David mumbled.

"Don't worry about it." Jack thumped his back. "Let's get this show on the road." He reached for the ropes on the flagpole and began to hit latches and pull hand over hand and David wasn't entirely sure how the whole thing worked, but Jack clearly knew and seemed capable of doing it himself. "Okay; hand me the first pair."

David felt vaguely weird about handling someone else's underwear, but at least he knew they were clean. He handed the first pair to Jack, who clipped it to the rope and raised it a little, then held his hand out for the next pair. And on it went, until the flag was back where it belonged on the top, with seven pairs of boxer shorts strung up beneath it.

Jack grinned and looked up to admire his handiwork. David chuckled a little and followed his gaze.

It was… Well, majestic was the wrong word. 'Amusing,' was more accurate. But still, David felt kind of giddy and like he'd accomplished something he hadn't know he could do; Jack felt kind of giddy because of the smile on David's moonlight bathed face, the way the stars seemed to be reflected in his big blue eyes, and a whole lot of other nonsense which surprised Jack. He'd never thought of himself as poetic, but then, he'd never seen anyone with eyes quite as blue as David's before.

He looked down at David, and David was looking up at him. They were standing right next to each other, half-facing each other, so close they were very nearly touching. David was grinning. Jack grinned back and… Sort of leaned down a little bit.

David's eyes widened for a second, but he didn't shy away.

There was a pause that seemed like an eternity, and Jack could swear he felt something crackling in the air between them. He'd felt giddy before, but this was different. The giddiness, the vaguely hyper, excited feeling, was still there; but at the same time he was absolutely calm. He just felt this… thing… and he didn't know what it was, but it felt an awful lot like there was something about the moment, and who knew when a moment like this would happen again?

He had no idea how long he and David stood there, frozen. It felt like forever but he reasoned it couldn't have been more than a second. David was still staring up into his eyes, searching them like he was looking for an explanation; Jack gazed back down at David, hoping his expression was asking for permission.

He didn't shy away when Jack put a hand on his waist. And Jack figured that was as close to permission as he was likely to get, and the tension of the moment was killing him, and it was a stupid, stupid thing to do, but he couldn't help it. He leaned down just a little, tiny bit more, and right there under the not-quite-full moon and the underwear strewn flagpole, he kissed David. It wasn't much, just a quick, gentle peck on the lips, but it was definitely a kiss.

Suddenly, time started again and the moment was just gone.

David pulled away abruptly and Jack let his hand drop, then shoved his hands in his pockets. He stared down at the ground, up at the flagpole, over into the trees, anywhere but at David; he was too afraid to look at David and see… See a reaction, any reaction. Because he knew it wouldn't be the one he desperately wanted, if it had been David wouldn't have stepped away. And he couldn't bring himself to see David look at him with disgust, or fear, or whatever it was that David had to be feeling.

"I…" David started to say, and stopped, the words catching in his throat. "I should go… back… now."

"Yeah," Jack mumbled. "Yeah, okay, uh… Thanks for the help with… ya know, the… flagpole and all…"

"Yeah."

Jack didn't look up until he heard David's footsteps retreating, and watched as David disappeared down the path back to his bunk.

That had been a very, very stupid thing to do.

[End Chapter Fourteen]
Chapter Fifteen: Ill Communication
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