I Don’t Wanna Be Famous
A Total Drama SI story
Disclaimer: Total Drama belongs to Fresh TV Inc. I’m simply borrowing it to tell some stories.
Author’s Notes: Well, we’re finally starting to veer off from canon a bit in this one. In all likelihood each new chapter will be less and less canon as the butterflies do their thing. I didn’t get to feature every character all that much, but then, that’s understandable both because the fic’s written in first-person and because that’s pretty much how it is in every season of Total Drama until people start getting voted off in droves and they can give more air time to the ones who remain. If I tried featuring everybody to their fullest potential right from the get-go I’d probably be looking at twice as long chapters and to be perfectly frank I think I would burn out quickly if that were the case. For now, go forth with the promise that there will be deeper and more fleshed-out character interaction as the numbers dwindle.
Chapter 2: The First Challenge
After making our way to the top of the cliff, we were allowed to rest for a bit. Whether it was because Chris wanted to give us the time to properly appreciate the sheer insanity of jumping off a high cliff or some other reason I did not know; either way, I took the opportunity to check out my fellow campers. In doing so, I confirmed something I had already suspected: I was the third or fourth buffest guy there, after DJ and Geoff… and arguably tied with the self-absorbed pretty boy who kept looking at himself in his hand mirror. Where did he keep pulling that out from, anyway? Hell, did I even want to know?
Hey, I knew guys could be just as vain as girls, but that guy annoyed me simply by existing. Pretty boys were the natural enemies of average-looking guys like me, after all, and doubly so if they were vain about their appearance like that guy.
Turning my attention to the females, I did what every straight guy did in the same situation, whether they admitted it or not: I determined which ones were attractive and which ones were not.
Now, again, the cartoon aesthetic – or at least this particular cartoon aesthetic – didn’t appeal to me overmuch, but it was still easy enough to tell which ones were supposed to be attractive as opposed to not. The hot girls were Gwen, the Goth girl; Heather, the Asian chick; Izzy, the redhead; Bridgette, the blond surfer chick; the… other blond girl, whatever her name was; and the something-or-other Hispanic girl… who I could swear was sneaking glances at me. I hadn’t quite managed to catch her red-handed, but she was looking away just as I turned in her direction far too often for it to be a coincidence. Then again, I might just be imagining it; it wouldn’t be the first time I misinterpreted a woman’s actions.
Moving on, the semi-attractive ones were… Eva, the possibly Eastern-European gym girl; Leshawna, the black girl; and the slimmer of the two cry-babies, even though her whole demeanor gave me the heebie-jeebies. The rest were uninteresting, as far as physical appearance went.
Hey, just because I personally cared more about personality than looks didn’t make me blind. Besides, as soon as this competition thing was over ROB was going to send me back to my own world, anyway, so it wasn’t like there was a point in me trying to build up anything beyond casual friendships.
Actually, that was kind of depressing, now that I thought about it. Huh.
“Okay, today’s challenge is three-fold,” Chris spoke up suddenly, jolting me out of my thoughts. “Your first task is to jump off this 1,000-foot-high cliff into the lake.”
“Piece of cake,” Bridgette said. Unlike the rest of the girls, who wore bikinis or swimsuits, she wore a full-on wetsuit, as befitted a surfer. I stood between her and the cliff, looking down at what appeared to be a small circle surrounded by a larger half-circle, going out from the beach into the water. It was really far down.
“If you look down, you will see two target areas,” Chris continued behind us. “The wider area represents the part of the lake we have stocked with psychotic, heh heh, man-eating sharks!”
“You did what, now?” I asked, looking back at the host in sudden alarm.
“You heard me,” Chris replied, grinning. “Inside that area is a safe zone. That’s your target area, which we’re pretty sure is shark-free.”
“Pretty sure?” I echoed in a questioning tone.
“Yeah, excuse me?” Leshawna chimed in.
Alas, the host ignored us. “For each member of your team that jumps and actually… survives, there will be a crate of supplies waiting below. Inside each crate are supplies that you’ll need for the second part of the challenge: building a hot tub! The team with the best one gets to have a wicked hot tub party tonight. The losers will be sending someone home.”
Looking back down I could see that there did indeed appear to be two piles of what could possibly be crates on the beach. It was rather hard to tell from this height and angle, though.
“Wait, hang on,” I said, turning to Chris. “We are really high up. Are we high enough for terminal velocity?”
The host shrugged. “No idea.”
I felt my eye twitch slightly, but I said nothing, instead turning my attention back to the edge of the cliff and the sheer drop beyond. Cartoon physics or not, that looked like it would be painful. And were there really sharks down there?
Okay, so, I’ll need to maximize air resistance, and then-
“Let’s see… Killer Bass, you’re up first,” Chris spoke, once more interrupting my thoughts.
“Oh, wow,” Bridgette said, having joined me in looking over the edge of the cliff. She looked back at the rest of our team. “So, who wants to go first?”
As was appropriate for a cartoon, I heard crickets as everyone on our team looked away awkwardly. At least it was good to know that we didn’t have any suicidal people on our team.
“Hey, don’t sweat it guys,” the fat guy – Owen – said suddenly, bringing my attention to the other team, the Screaming Gophers. “I heard that these shows always make the interns do the stunts first to make sure it’s survivable.”
“Is that a body down there?” I half-joked, peering downward. There were some scattered, nervous laughs in response.
“So, who’s up?” asked Eva, looking around.
“Ladies first,” Duncan said slyly, glancing at Bridgette.
“Fine, I’ll go,” she said.
“All yours,” I told her, stepping back from the edge.
“Thanks,” she said, giving me a wan smile. She took a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just an insane cliff dive into a circle of angry sharks.”
“Exactly! Not harrowing at all,” I agreed cheerfully, crossing my arms and nodding.
Bridgette gave another wan smile, then jumped, performing a perfect swan dive into the middle of the smaller circle. A couple seconds later, she resurfaced, waving up at us.
“Oh, hey, she didn’t go splat,” I said aloud as a boat pulled up to get her out of the water, prompting multiple people to let out sighs of relief. “Alright, guess I’m nex-”
“She did it! Yeah! I’m next!”
Before I could even get into position, I saw one of my teammates – the overly enthusiastic sports jock, Tyler – run past me and dive off the cliff.
“Cowabunga!”
“Hey, I wanted to say that!” I complained as the boy fell… only to smack face-first into a buoy at the outer edge of the smaller circle. That had to hurt. On the bright side, he didn’t go splat either, and apart from what was possibly a concussion looked to be all right, so the fall was definitely survivable even without a perfect landing.
“Okay, now it’s my turn,” I said, shooting my teammates a pointed look. Turning back to the cliff’s edge, I took several quick breaths, psyching myself up… then ran and jumped, doing my best to aim for the smaller circle. As I fell I angled my body to maximize my air resistance and slow myself down as much as possible, then gradually changed my angle of descent so I would fall feet-first into the water.
What? I was more concerned with survival than artistic grace, so sue me.
I hit the water just inside the smaller circle, and immediately I felt pressure on my ears as I descended far below the waterline. After what felt like seconds my feet hit the muddy bottom of the lake, and I bent my knees and kicked off to hurry my ascent. I broke the surface soon after, pulling back a breath. I hadn’t been low on air or anything, but it seemed appropriate.
“Good job landing in the circle,” Bridgette said as she extended a hand. I took it and she helped me up on the boat that was parked right outside the circle.
“Thanks,” I said, grinning at her as I climbed onto the boat. Doing the jump – and surviving without injury – felt exhilarating, not gonna lie. I looked behind her to see Tyler, lying in a heap on the deck, groaning pitifully. I winced in sympathy, then waited for the intern driving the boat to let us off on the beach before turning my attention to the top of the cliff to watch the rest of our team do the jump.
One by one, they did… with varying levels of grace and injury. Unsurprisingly the sportier ones like Geoff and Eva did a better job of it than the likes of the lanky, potentially asthmatic Harold… who somehow managed to land split-legged on the surface of the water, quite literally jumping in balls-first. His drawn-out screams echoed across the lake, to be silenced only when he sank beneath the waves.
I no longer felt sorry for Tyler.
After Harold was fished out of the water came the two cry-babies, Katie and Sadie – who were supposed to be on different teams. Did they convince Chris to let them jump out of order? Well, in any case, they successfully completed the jump to land in the smaller circle… and after that there was a long period of nothing from up above.
“What are they doing up there? We’re still missing some people, aren’t we?” I asked, looking around. There were nine people on the beach, including the two girls Katie and Sadie… who I’d found out had convinced Chris to let them both be on the same team, with Katie switching out with the ginger girl, Izzy. Which was unfortunate; she seemed like a way more fun person. In any case, that meant we were still missing two people: the big guy, DJ, and… something-or-other. The Hispanic girl.
“DJ chickened out,” Duncan said. “Miss ‘Prim and Proper’ probably did, too.”
“Aww, man,” I said. “We’re not gonna lose the first challenge, are we?”
Eventually, the members of the Screaming Gophers started falling from the sky, starting with the Asian girl, Heather. Though for some reason her fall was particularly unceremonious and out-of-control, almost like she’d been thrown off. She still managed to land in the smaller circle, though. Weird.
One by one, the Screaming Gophers jumped, often while screaming in terror. Seriously, was someone up there just throwing them off against their will?
Actually, that was probably a smart tactic, if so. Couldn’t chicken out mid-air, after all.
Eventually, it was the turn of the self-absorbed pretty boy of the competition… whose name I still couldn’t remember. He was the first to land outside the smaller circle, and as I watched what appeared to be two sharks made a beeline toward him, their dorsal fins sticking out of the water.
The lot of us on the beach cried out warnings… and then something happened that I would never have expected in a million years.
The pretty boy turned toward the sharks just as their heads broke the surface, and he smiled, his perfect teeth dazzling in the sunlight.
Instantly, they were… charmed. Enamored. Apparently, the guy was so freakin’ hot that even the females of other species fell under his spell. Or at least I hoped the sharks were female. The larger of the two let the boy ride on its head as it carried him onto the beach, where he jumped off and graced them with another dazzling smile before walking up to join the rest of us.
I felt my eye twitch as I forcibly suppressed the impulse to punch the guy in his perfect face. Seriously, the fact that this was a cartoon was probably the only thing that prevented me from doing so; if something so outrageous had happened in my own world, I may not have been able to keep myself from pummeling the offender for the crime of existing.
… No, that wasn’t true; I had more self-control than that. It would have been incredibly tempting, though.
Muttering curses under my breath, I turned my attention to a sudden disturbance in the foliage at the end of the beach; it was DJ and the Hispanic girl, coming to join us from the land route. And for some reason they had bright yellow rubber chickens stuck to their heads.
The sight was bewildering enough to make me instantly forget about the pretty boy. “What the hell are you guys wearing?” I asked as they walked onto the beach.
DJ hung his head while the girl looked away, both clearly ashamed.
“We chickened out,” DJ said. “So Chris gave us chicken hats.”
“I see,” I said, taking a second look at their headwear. Now that I looked closer, it did indeed appear that the rubber chickens had openings at the bottom to let people wear them as hats. “Why?”
“I can’t jump that, man!” DJ exclaimed, suddenly waving his arms in the air in the general direction of the cliff. “Do you see that cliff?!”
“Yeah, and I jumped it, too,” I said, rolling my eyes. Then I smirked as something occurred to me. “I guess in this case, black men can’t jump.”
As DJ groaned and buried his face in his hands – whether in shame or because of the bad joke – I turned to the girl. “So what’s your excuse?”
She immediately began sputtering. “Wha- I’m not going to risk life and limb when we’re going to win the challenge anyway!”
I gave her a quizzical look. “We are?”
“Yes! Did you see the other team? There’s no way they’re all going to jump!”
“They don’t have to; if only one of them chickens out, you guys cost us the win. And I’m pretty sure some of them got thrown off by their teammates, so there’s that.”
A look of uncertainty passed over the girl’s face. “Oh… well…”
I shrugged. “Eh, it’s no big.”
“It’s not?” DJ asked, looking up from his hands while the girl blinked in surprise.
“It’s a three-part challenge,” I said. “As long as we win the other parts, it’s okay.”
“Hey, yeah, that’s right!” the girl said, looking more cheerful by the minute. “We can still do this!”
“Right. Just don’t mess up again and we’ll be fine. Maybe.”
“Yeah, we- Wait, what do you mean by ‘maybe’?”
“Hey, you two screwed up this part, others might screw up other parts. There are no guarantees, yeah?”
There was a moment of silence as we all looked at each other, and then the girl spoke.
“No offense, but motivational speeches aren’t your strong suit.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. “I was never much of a speaker,” I said finally, lamely.
The pair of them chuckled at that.
“Hey, it’s alright, man,” DJ said, giving me a pat on the back. “Thanks for trying.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Hey, um… I was wondering something,” the girl said as DJ walked away to join the rest of the team.
I turned, giving her a quirked eyebrow. “What?”
“About your, um… And I hope this isn’t too personal or anything, but… your scars.”
“What about ‘em?” I asked lightly, glancing down at myself. As a cartoon character, my scars stood out more against my skin than they did before, and most of them were clearly visible now that I only had swimming trunks on.
“How did you get them?”
“Oh, is that all? Let’s see…” One by one, I pointed at my scars. “Surgery, surgery, construction accident, sword, axe-”
“You took an axe to the head?!” she asked, her eyes fairly bugging out as she stared at the small, thin scar on my forehead.
“Hey, it wasn’t that bad. It didn’t even cut all the way through the bone,” I said, chuckling. “My brain are good.”
“You- But, you-” She paused, swallowed, then tried again. “Why?”
“Let’s just say I’ve lived some interesting times,” I said, giving her a wink. “Anyway, the next one is-” I cut myself off upon noticing movement out of the corner of my eye, and I turned to see people were once more jumping off the cliff. “Oh, looks like they’re almost done.”
I walked closer to the edge of the beach for a better look, just in time to see Owen jump off the cliff. He hit the water belly-first, and his admittedly fairly vast bulk inexplicably created what amounted to a small tsunami that quickly swept toward the beach… and even carried along the boat that had been carrying people ashore.
Fucking cartoon physics, man, I thought as I dimly noted the girl walking up next to me.
“Um, also, about your tatt-”
And then the water swept over us, cutting off whatever she was going to say.
It was odd, in a way; despite knowing fully well this was a cartoon – the visual appearance of, well, everything, was a testament to that – I was still taken aback every time something happened that would have made no fucking sense in my own world, like a single overweight boy creating a tsunami just by belly-landing in the water. Clearly, I still needed to adjust my headspace, as it were. On the bright side, I’d at least found out why the Hispanic girl kept glancing at me before; she wasn’t used to people with scars, was all.
Such were my thoughts as I climbed down from the tree I’d found myself in following Owen’s makeshift tsunami, doing my best to ignore the shark clinging to the next tree over.
The second part of the challenge awaited.
After we’d changed back into our regular clothes, the challenge continued with its second part: hauling crates along the beach back to the camp. And it wasn’t quick and easy, either; there were four crates in all, and they were fairly hefty.
True, some of us – including myself – were strong enough to lift and carry a crate each for short distances, but others most definitely weren’t, and the pace was unfortunately set by the slowpokes.
“Ouch! I think I just got a splinter.”
Like the Hispanic girl. She looked fit enough, but she was fairly light on muscle, and wasn’t making much headway with pushing one of the crates.
“Shut up and pick up your crate,” Eva said, having apparently had enough. She picked the crate up over her head then dropped it back down, kicking up a small cloud of sand. She fixed the Hispanic girl with a glare. “Chicken.”
“Hey, I’m the only one with CIT camping experience here. You need me!”
I cocked my head at that. “What’s CIT?”
“Counselor In Training,” the Hispanic girl replied, turning to me. “Like a summer camp counselor, but a trainee.”
“Oh,” I said, nodding. After spending a moment thinking about this, I added, “How’s that gonna help with the crates?”
She hesitated. “Uh, well…”
“It’s not gonna help at all,” Eva spoke up, sending another glare at the girl. “She’s useless. Come on, let’s pick up the pace. The Gophers are way ahead of us.”
It was true; as their reward for winning the first part of the challenge with only a single “chicken” to our two, the Screaming Gophers had received wooden carts to help haul their crates. They were so far ahead of us they would probably be halfway done with the third part before we even reached camp.
It was kind of a bummer.
“Ugh, I gotta take a whiz,” Tyler spoke suddenly, putting down his crate. The quickest way forward was exactly that: Tyler, DJ, Eva, Geoff and myself taking turns picking up and carrying a crate each for a bit before putting them back down to avoid straining ourselves, and the others trying in vain to push the crates forward while we rested. I had actually wanted us to just concentrate on carrying one crate at a time then running back for the next one, but when I suggested it earlier Chris had said it was against the rules, for some reason, so we were stuck doing this snail’s pace.
“Well, hurry up,” Eva complained, “We’re already behind.”
“Oh, I have to go, too,” Skinny Cry-baby said suddenly.
“You do? Oh my gosh, me too!” Not-So-Skinny Cry-baby chimed in.
I sighed as Tyler and the two cry-babies went off into the woods to do their business. At this pace, we were gonna lose for sure.
“Ouch! I think something just bit me.”
And the bad news just kept coming. I turned again, seeing the Hispanic girl rubbing her right eye. When she lowered her hand I saw the area around her eye was already swelling up in an angry red.
“Uh, you’re not allergic or anything, are you?” I asked hesitantly.
“Only to pollen,” she replied. “Is it bad?”
“Kinda. Hold still,” I said as I leaned in closer.
“Hey, wait-”
“Oh, wait, I think I see a stinger,” I said as I peered closely at the welt forming around her right eye. There was a tiny, tiny black stinger-like object stuck in the skin, and what’s more the object was attached to what looked like a tiny, pulsating sac; most likely some kind of venomous gland that was still pumping venom through the stinger. Very carefully, I grasped the offending object between the nails of my thumb and index finger and pulled. For a split-second it pulled on the skin before coming loose, and I flicked it away. “There.”
“Oh, um, thank you,” she said, giving me a small smile… that was only slightly marred by the angry red welt taking up a good portion of her face.
I decided not to mention it. “No worries. Now, let’s go get this challenge done, eh?”
“Yeah! Um, I’m Courtney, by the way.”
“Jason. Nice ta meetcha.”
Once Tyler and the girls returned, we continued on our way. We didn’t get very far before Chris rolled up on a 4-wheeler. Why he felt the need for a vehicle when camp was quite literally a few hundred meters away I had no idea.
“You guys are way behind the other team,” he said. “Like, way behind. What’s the problem?”
“Their butts are itchy,” Courtney said, gesturing to the two cry-babies who were, indeed, quite busy scratching their butts.
Come to think of it, they’d been doing that ever since their pee break. The hell was up with that?
Chris, turning in his seat to face Courtney, physically recoiled at the sight of her swollen eye. “Oh, my boxers, that’s bad!”
“Could’ve been worse,” I said, deciding to join the conversation as I was resting anyway. “At least I got the stinger out.”
At that moment, Bridgette walked up to the two cry-babies. “Did you guys squat down when you peed in the woods?”
“Yeah…” Skinny Cry-baby said slowly.
“Did you happen to notice what kind of plants you were squatting over?” Bridgette continued, and I groaned as I realized where she was going with that.
“They were kinda oval-shaped and green and all over the place,” Not-Skinny Cry-baby replied.
“Were they low to the ground? About this big?” the surfer girl asked. When the cry-babies both nodded, she said, “You guys squatted on poison ivy.”
“This is why I hate city folk,” I muttered as the cry-babies started panicking. At first they incoherently screamed, then decided to follow up with dragging their itchy asses on the sand. It was… a sight. “Five minutes in nature and they might as well be dead.”
“Hahahaha! No way! That’s awesome!”
Chris, however, was more amused than anything, even laughing and pointing at the pair.
Honestly, if they weren’t on my team I probably would have done the same, so it wasn’t like I could fault him for it.
Still sucked for us, though.
By the time we finally reached camp, we discovered the Gophers were… actually not as far ahead as feared. Sure, they’d gotten all their crates open, but from the look of things they had only just gotten started on actually building the hot tub.
We might still have a chance!
“Alright, let’s get these crates open, pronto,” I said, turning to my team. They were all in various states of sitting or lying on the ground, exhausted from hauling the crates. Aside from myself and Eva, they all looked about ready to give up permanently. In most circumstances I would have balked at taking the leadership role, but there were stakes here, dammit!
Courtney raised her hand. “What about Katie and Sadie?”
I blinked. “Who?”
“The itchy girls.”
“Oh. Eh, they’ll get here when they get here,” I said, shrugging. The two cry-babies had begged to stay behind at the beach so they could cool their asses in the water, and frankly I didn’t miss them one bit. “Come on, let’s do this! We can still catch up!”
“Yeah! Now we’re talking!” Eva agreed, flexing and pumping her fist in the air.
“Right on!” Geoff agreed, standing up. “Let’s do this!”
Between all of us, it was fairly easy to get the crates open and empty their contents. There were boards, nails, tubes, pipes, tarp, tools and all sorts of stuff, all laid out in four uneven piles on the ground. We spent a bit more time getting everything sorted to make it easier to find what was what, then stepped back.
“Okay, that was fun, but now what?” Courtney asked, glancing over at the Gophers. “They’re still way ahead of us.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m Swedish.”
My teammates exchanged confused looks before turning back to me. Courtney, apparently being designated the unofficial spokesperson, asked the question that was likely on all their minds.
“What?”
“Let me put it this way: Do you have any idea how much Ikea furniture I’ve put together over the years?”
“Um-”
“Exactly. Now, stand back, I’m about to go Ingvar Kamprad on this bitch!”
“Again: what?”
I sighed. “Just gimme the damn instructions, already.”
“The campers are neck-and-neck!” Chris’s voice echoed across the camp, courtesy of the megaphone in his hand. At some point during the proceedings the host had decided to play sports commentator, and he was just as annoying as the real deal. “The Screaming Gophers had an early lead, but thanks to the carpentry efforts of Jason, the Killer Bass have closed the distance! Who knew being Norwegian could be so useful?!”
“I’m Swedish, you ass!”
“Oh, but the Gophers aren’t out of the competition yet!” Chris continued, either unheeding or uncaring of my complaints. “It may have shrunk, but they still have the lead! Can the power of teamwork overcome the power of cheap Swiss furniture making?!”
“Swedish, dammit!”
“Look at that, the Gophers are forming a bucket brigade to fill up their tub! Can the Bass catch up or will Jason be forced to swim back to the land of the polar bears in disgrace?!”
“Is it against the rules to throw stuff at the host? I am dead serious. I have a hammer and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“And the Gophers’ tub is full! Gophers win!”
“DAMMIT!”
“These… are awesome hot tubs!” Chris declared after finishing his inspection of the hot tubs. Although the Gophers had completed theirs first we were allowed the time to fill ours up, too… and since I’d put the last nail in at the last second, ours was just as good as theirs. Well, on the outside, at least.
I really hoped nobody screwed anything up. Sure, I did the lion’s share of the work, but I had delegated some of the more straightforward stuff to the rest of the team, and there had been no time to double-check much of anything.
“However, there can only be one winner,” Chris paced back and forth between the teams as he spoke, a serious expression on his face. “Both tubs are functional, which was the goal of the challenge… but the Gophers finished theirs first, so they win!”
I sighed. I’d figured as much, but it was still disappointing to hear. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see DJ smiling down at me.
“Better luck next time,” he said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Yeah… next time,” I agreed.
“Tonight, the Screaming Gophers are safe from elimination,” Chris continued. “They also get to rock their hot tub for the rest of summer! Actually, both teams do! Double bonus!”
There was a widespread cheer at that, but I didn’t bother joining in. Sure, having a hot tub was pretty cool, but I was still feeling miffed about losing.
“Killer Bass, what can I say, hot tub or not: sucks to be you right now. I’ll see your sorry butts at the bonfire tonight. Don’t be late!”
Well, crap.
A couple hours later the teams were seated at their respective tables in the main lodge. Dinnertime was winding down, and for those of us in the Killer Bass the conversation turned to the night’s campfire ceremony.
“So, uh, what do we do now?” asked… Katie? Sadie? One of the cry-babies. The skinnier one.
“We have to figure out who we’re gonna vote off,” Courtney said, and I was glad she was taking the lead; I wasn’t the best at… well, pretty much anything social, really.
“Well, I think it should be Princess,” Duncan said, flicking a thumb first at Courtney, then DJ, “or the brick-house here.”
Courtney was clearly taken aback by this. “What?! Why?”
“Because unless I’m mistaken, you two are the only ones here wearing chicken hats,” Duncan replied, prompting everyone to look at the fowl hats that still adorned DJ and Courtney’s heads. “And if we ever have to lift a truck… I like our odds with the big guy.”
“But you guys need me!” Courtney protested. “I’m the only one with-”
“We know,” Bridgette interrupted, rolling her eyes. “You used to be a real CIT. So who would you pick?”
Courtney looked around for a moment before settling her eyes on Tyler. “What about him?”
“Nooooo!”
As one, both teams’ eyes went to the blonde in the Gophers’ team. Lindsay. Seeing everyone’s eyes on her, she promptly sat down.
“Uh, I mean, no salt. There’s no salt. On the table. Bummer.”
Huh. She really is crushing on the sports guy, huh? I mused, shaking my head before turning my attention back to the conversation at my table.
“Hey, at least he jumped off the cliff, chicken wing,” Duncan said, pointedly… pointing… at Courtney.
“Shut up!”
“Okay, let’s just chill out,” Geoff interjected soothingly as he got between Duncan and Courtney. “This is gettin’ way too heavy.”
“Eh, I’ve had enough prison food for one day,” Duncan said as he rose, making a show of pushing away his half-empty bowl of slop. “I’m gonna go have a nap.”
“Y-you can’t do that! Courtney protested. “We haven’t decided who’s going yet!”
“I don’t think he cares,” I pointed out as Duncan left the lodge.
Courtney turned to me. “Well, who would you pick?”
I blinked. “Me? Well…” I swept my gaze over my teammates, pondering. Eventually, it settled on the two cry-babies. “Those two were the most useless today.”
“What? You can’t mean that!” the skinny one said, aghast.
“Yeah! You can’t mean it!” the fat one agreed.
“You spent most of the competition cooling your asses in the drink,” I said flatly.
“Hey, yeah, that’s right,” Eva said, her voice rising dangerously as she looked over at the wonder twins. “Those two didn’t contribute at all.”
““B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-but-!”” the two girls stammered in unison. Their hands were clasped together and their cheeks mushed together like… something you mush together. Mashed potatoes?
“Now hold on, we shouldn’t just turn on each other,” DJ interjected, drawing everyone’s eyes to him. “It’s settled by vote, right? So we should just vote. Whatever happens, happens.”
I shrugged. “Fair enough.”
That night we had our very first campfire ceremony. It was a pretty cozy deal, not gonna lie; the campfire itself was nice and warm, and we were all sitting on stumps on one side of it while Chris stood on the other, facing us while holding a plate full of marshmallows. Behind and beyond him were lit tiki torches set up leading down to the dock, where a boat awaited whoever got voted off.
It would have been cozier if there weren’t teams of cameramen all over the place.
“Killer Bass,” Chris said aloud, beginning the ceremony. “At camp, marshmallows represent a tasty treat that you enjoy roasting by the fire. At this camp… marshmallows represent life.”
Figures they’d make it dramatic for the cameras, I thought, rolling my eyes.
The host continued on, explaining exactly how things were going to go down. “You’ve all cast your votes and made your decision. There are only ten marshmallows on this plate. When I call your name, come up, and claim your marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow tonight must immediately return to the Dock of Shame to catch the Boat of Losers. That means you’re out of the contest. And you can’t come back. Ever!”
I betcha they’re gonna edit in a drum roll or something there.
“The first marshmallow goes to… Geoff.”
One by one, we had our names called and went up to claim our marshmallow. Presumably, we went in an ascending order based on who got the most votes; I was third to claim mine.
At the last, the only ones who remained without marshmallows were Katie and Sadie. Chris did a bunch of long, needlessly dramatic posing and apparent pondering before finally pointing at…
“Sadie.”
She did not rise, however, as her arms were entangled tight with Katie’s.
“No! I can’t let Katie go!” Sadie said, teary-eyed. “Why her?!”
“Yeah, and I can’t leave Sadie behind!” Katie chimed in, equally teary-eyed. “It’s so unfair!”
“I so can’t do this! I’ve never been anywhere without Katie! We have to be together or I’ll totally die!”
“Can we just get this over with?” I asked aloud from where I was roasting marshmallows along with everyone who had already received one. “I wanna eat my marshmallow already.”
“Hey, that’s not nice!” Bridgette chided me.
“Not trying to be,” I muttered. “I’m hungry.”
“Amen to that,” Duncan agreed.
“Be quiet, both of you! You’re being disrespectful!” Courtney hissed, prompting us both to roll our eyes at her.
At that point, Katie disentangled herself from her friend’s embrace and held her at arm’s length. “Sadie, listen to me,” she said, her voice the most serious I had ever heard it. “You can do this. You are strong and beautiful and like, maybe even smarter than me. Plus, you’re, like, the funnest girl I know! You have to do it for both of us!”
“O-okay!”
“Aren’t they gonna see each other as soon as the other one gets voted off?” I asked quietly as the cry-fest continued unabated. “I mean, it’s not like they’re never gonna- Alright, alright, I’m shutting up. Touchy.”
With that, the campfire ceremony was over, and we were one team member less. Would it matter? Time would tell.
I bit into my marshmallow and immediately burnt my tongue.
Typical.
“Ah, so this is the ‘confessional’, huh? Well…”
Jason seated himself, facing the camera. By all appearances the confessional was little more than an outhouse, and there were several flies flying around, though the newcomer seemed to pay them no mind. He adjusted his unruly hair slightly and took a deep breath, then spoke.
“Okay, I’ll be honest: I don’t regret voting for Katie at all. She and Sadie were definitely the most useless members today, and since we lost… well, it makes sense, right? To be fair, I could just as well have voted for Sadie; it was pretty fifty-fifty.
“As for the rest of the team… Well, we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Hopefully there’ll be more of the former, but we’ll see. I know I have plenty of both.
“Also, I only took the leader role today because I knew what I was doing. I prefer working on my own, you know? I’m not against teamwork, but I’m not really good at it. I’m a loner. If the next challenge isn’t something I’m good at, I’ll just step back and try to stay out of everyone’s way.”
He then scowled as though suddenly remembering something unpleasant.
“Also, I’m Swedish, dammit! I’m not Swiss, I’m not Norwegian, and I’m not from the fucking North Pole!”
End Chapter 2
The roster
The Screaming Gophers: Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Izzy, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, Noah
The Killer Bass: Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Katie, Courtney, Jason, Duncan, Eva, and Harold