Author Games Compilation [Cycle 2]

Task 2 - The Canoe Lake [MH]

SCREAM: CAMP WATTPAD - TASK TWO

The sun was only high enough to provide that nostalgic walking-to-the-school-bus atmosphere that half these kids hadn't felt since the first day of summer, and for Mick, since the punctuation of his youth. It was bright enough, but pink still stretched itself out underneath the scattered fluffs that science called clouds. It reflected down upon the lake - a sheet of water so still and untouched that anyone could've bent over (ooh-lah-lah) and seen themselves just as they would through a mirror - in hues of blue and orange.

Standing so close to it and all, Mick felt rather at ease, even though the "sand" they'd all been shuffled towards was more dirt and rocks than anything. If he had to swim in this water, he thought he'd be okay with it, actually. And swimming required physical activity. So that was something.

Yawning the grogginess away, Mick turned back to his group, finally tuning into the hubbub of conversation that Oak would never let die. It was mostly Tyler and Ethan; Ryan kept to himself, arms crossed over his chest as he stared off at some distant point in a tree. The latter was the only one with an actual shirt on, too, as the others thought the summer heat was already too much for basic human decency.

Mick wasn't complaining, though. He even whistled. "If only I had my camera. Momma'd love this for her special scrapbook."

Seven took internal complaint with this, nose scrunching in irritation. "And why won't you take your shirt off, hm?"

"As I've told you before, I have body issues." With flair, he spread his arms out in a delicate curtsying manner.

In response, the boy scoffed. "It's gonna get hotter."

"And your white ass is gonna burn," Mick punctuated. It was particularly ominous - with a perky smile to boot. A bead of sweat trickled down his cheek, and he wiped it off along with the grin. "Where's the damn canoes, though?"

This time, Tyler stepped up, balling the shirt in his hands. "Well, the counsellors need to set them all up by the water first."

Mick's nostrils flared; he huffed. "But I don't wanna wait. I'm a millennial, I need things now!"

Still, it went as Tyler said: Maeva and Jeremy shoving the red and green canoes up to the waterline, Maple crawling in, the counsellors pushing them off. Again and again, this process occurred; the sun was bright and the sky blue by the time they got to Cedar, and poor Ryan was shedding liquid all through his clothes.

Eventually, though, the two designated Oak canoes shimmied up beside them, and Mick sat himself right squat in the middle of one, right on the floor, paddle ready to give a great spankin' to the water. Ryan sat himself at the front end, and Tyler situated himself at the back. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a little blessed that the other canoe happened as it did. I'm going to throttle that Seven boy. I swear I will.

With a little push from Jeremy, the canoe was cast adrift in the lake, and it was up to the three to paddle their way out. Mick was genuinely disappointed that he'd have to split the stillness of the whole thing, but the ripples that branched out proved to be just as, if not more satisfying. Like those videos on YouTube where they cut things in half. It wasn't one of those clear lakes, either, where you could see straight to the bottom if you wanted; it was dark underneath, fogged up slightly by the general on-goings of nature. Briefly, he wondered if anything could even live down there, but then he saw something slimy wriggle on by, and he took that thought away.

His paddle jutted out to hit the fish, but Tyler began to speak, then, and Mick went back to rowing. "So, how do you guys like camp so far?"

Ryan replied with a mere, "It's fine," but Mickey waited before answering for himself.