Chapter Text
Everything sucked.
This was why summer would forever be marred for Duncan. He used to love summer—loved it like he loved tinkering with the old cars down at the junkyard. But, no, those wonderful days just had to be ruined the moment he entered high school, the moment he made the worst possible mistake in all of history: Duncan had become a counselor for a children's summer camp.
Damn Geoff for talking him into doing this two years ago. Damn him for getting him stuck doing this for every goddamn summer. And, most of all, damn this stupid bus and everyone in it—and he was not cranky because of this stupid motion sickness or anything like that.
"If you vomit on me, I'll rip your dick off and make you wear it like a sock."
Duncan bit back a retort, opting to focus on not regurgitating what little breakfast he had that morning. He hadn't asked to sit next to Heather, the biggest bitch he ever had the displeasure of meeting. He hadn't asked for the bus to have a seating chart, and he certainly hadn't wanted the seating chart to be sorted alphabetically by last name.
The bus ran over a pothole, sending the entire vehicle and all its passengers involuntary hopping up and down. Duncan felt another wave of nausea and grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest.
He hated everything right now.
Duncan dragged himself to the Bass cabin, a firm scowl set on his features. He kept repeating in his mind how much better this was than spending an entire summer at home with his parents, who would almost certainly be up his ass the whole time.
The wood of the cabin held the familiar scent of pine and must, and he hated every bit of it. Ignoring the nostalgia of the carvings on the wall, he strolled over to his bed—the only non-bunk bed, cause there was no way in hell he was going to share with one of the gremlins he would be assigned to.
Picking up the linen, he studied his "home" for the next few months. The pillows were disgusting. Duncan made a mental note to switch his cases with the cleanest ones in the room before anyone noticed.
"Hey, D-Man!"
Duncan promptly turned to give his friend a "fuck off" look because he was so not in the mood to deal with his shit right now.
"What do you want, dude."
Geoff shrugged, moving from his spot at the open door to hop onto Duncan's bed. Much to dismay, the entire mattress wiggled and wobbled like a vat of gelatin. Great.
"I wanted to say 'sup. That bus ride was fun, huh?"
Duncan roughly shoved him off the bed using his foot. This didn't seem to bother Geoff in the slightest.
"Be a good boy and go play somewhere else—I have things to do."
Geoff smirked and stood, brushing himself off. "Like what? Hiding your porn? Y'know, the kids found Gramps' stash last year."
Duncan snorted. "That's 'cause he put it in a really suspicious box that had "Keep Out" on it. What, did he expect those little shitheads to listen?"
Geoff opened his mouth and promptly closed it, deciding that Duncan had a point.
"Well, well, if it isn't Thing One and Thing Two."
A familiar girl appeared, leaning against the doorframe. Gwen. His ride-or-die since he started working at this hellhole.
"Hey, Ghoulie," Duncan greeted casually.
"Hey."
"Gwen!" Geoff tipped his cowboy hat at her, then proceeded to continue his discussion with Duncan about good places to store erotic magazines and whatnot.
"You two can flirt later," Gwen interrupted. "I came here to tell you guys that they're serving lunch at the Mess Hall right now." She snickered as she turned on her heel and left.
"Wait—it's pretty early for lunch, isn't it?" Geoff scratched his head.
"That's what bothers you?"
It seemed like everyone had also gathered at the Mess Hall in hopes of receiving an early lunch.
Duncan studied all of the familiar faces all around, stabbing his macaroni with a plastic spork. It was surprisingly good. Seriously—if the mac and cheese from summers before was anything to go off of, the noodles should have been hard and stale, and the cheese should have smelled like socks. Glancing at his friend from out the corner of his eyes, Geoff's reaction was identical to his own.
"Whoa, who made today's lunch? It's actually edible!" He poked his tuna sandwich with a careful finger, half-expecting the food to bite it off.
As the two were dissecting their food, a pair of familiar girls came to a stop in front of their table. Upon noticing their presence, Geoff's face lit up instantly, and Duncan—well, he lit up as well. Just not for the same reason.
"I made lunch for everyone since Chef hasn't made it here yet," Bridgette informed them, smiling.
"Holy shit," Geoff cursed, hopping up from his seat with his tray. "Bridge, babe, you gotta hook me up with some more of that!"
Duncan watched Bridgette and Geoff head towards the kitchen with an amused expression before turning his attention to the brunette before him—AKA, the very last person he expected to see at this summer camp. His eyes roamed over her figure; he took in her long, tan legs, her ample—ahem—assets, and, of course, the scowl on her pretty little face, plush, pouty lips twisted into a frown. He leaned back in his chair, taking in the way her camp shirt emphasized her curves in all the right places, as well as the way her curly hair cascaded over her shoulders.
"Well, if it isn't Courtney Reyes herself," he smirked. "I assumed you'd be working at your parents' bougie law office for the summer. Daddy finally kick you out?"
Duncan only knew Courtney (and the rest of the camp counselors, really) through school, and not only did she immediately throw him the "holier than thou" vibes before even learning his name, she also had to go and find the most trivial things to get on his case about.
Unfortunately, that was exactly his type.
"I'm not even going to dignify that last part with a response." Her chocolate brown eyes narrowed, and the devious smile on his face widened. She crossed her arms over her chest. "But if you must know, I'm doing this for volunteer hours."
Duncan raised his brow. "Volunteer hours? Don't think Miss Perfect of all people wouldn't already have reached her hours."
"I do. I just like to go above and beyond."
He snorted. "Should've figured."
Courtney scoffed at him. "And, what, you're working here out of the goodness of your heart?"
"Nah, just needed the cash."
"You're going far in life," she told him sarcastically.
Duncan shook his head disapprovingly. "Better keep that attitude in check if you wanna keep your job."
Courtney growled, stepping closer and—
"Uh, am I interrupting somethin'?" Another familiar face joined the two, awkwardly glancing between them with his dark eyes.
"As if." Courtney ended the conversation there, scoffing again and turning on her heel. She totally wants me.
"DJ." Duncan finally acknowledged him, and the two of them went in for a dap. "Nice to see you again, man."
DJ started to speak, but was quickly cut off by a voice booming out from the speakers. All eyes fell on the smiling, middle-aged man standing in the middle of the hall, microphone in hand. Duncan pulled away from DJ and rolled his eyes, barely listening to the annual "Welcome Back" speech from their quirky, flamboyant leader.
He found his eyes wandering towards a certain figure again, who was situated on the other side of the hall. Catching her gaze, he winked at her; Courtney glared back at him before tearing her eyes back over at Chris.
"—and that's why we'll be pairing you dudes and dudettes up for more interpersonal interactions." Chris' mischievous smile looked suspicious. "I've already taken the liberty of choosing your partners, so go see Chef for the list. That's all. Enjoy the rest of your day, because the little monsters—er, I mean, children will be here tomorrow!"
Partners? Oh, great. He hoped he wouldn't get stuck with any of the geek-wads or nerd-lings. God, what if he got paired up with Harold—
"Hey, looks like we're gonna be partners this summer."
Duncan's head snapped up at the familiar voice, eyes landing on the curvaceous girl before him. Her weave was kept back with a plain headband that matched her blue shorts. Oh, she was Gwen's friend—Leshawna, was it?
The two had just finished exchanging brief introductions when Duncan was roughly pulled out of his seat and dragged out the door, leaving a very confused Leshawna behind.
"Ow—what the hell, Ghoulie?" Duncan glowered at the culprit, rubbing his wrist.
Gwen didn't meet his glare, instead choosing to toe at the ground with her boot, kicking up dust and rocks. "Your partner is Leshawna, right?"
Duncan crossed his arms. Why did she care? Unless… His eyes widened and a smirk tugged at his lips. Could it be?
"Oh, I see. The Ice Queen's got a crush." He nudged her in the ribs until she finally snapped.
Slapping his offensive arm away, Gwen scowled, looking rather conflicted. "Shut up. I don't."
"Oh, really? Then why'd you—"
"Switch with me."
Duncan blinked. "What?"
"I said switch with me, dipshit."
He put his hands up in defense. "No need to be so rude, Gwen. I'll switch—but what do I get in return?"
"My foot not up your ass."
"I dunno, it doesn't seem fair enough—"
"I'll take over your dish-washing shift for two weeks," Gwen offered.
"A month."
"Three weeks."
"A month."
"Fuck off."
"Well then, I guess I'll just head back to Le—"
Gwen glared at him. "Fine. A month of dish-washing. Deal?"
Duncan grinned, greatly enjoying his moment of victory. Who knew that the brooding goth, Gwen, would have a thing for the bold Leshawna?
"Deal."
The two re-entered the Mess Hall, where everyone else was partnering up—some counselors looked miffed, while others seemed relieved.
"So," Duncan asked Gwen, "who was your partner?"
Gwen suddenly stopped walking, a smirk stretched onto her pale face as she pointed towards the far corner of the room. His eyes settled on Bridgette, who was talking to—
"Courtney Reyes."
Day one of summer camp—things were already looking to be interesting.