A/N:

It just gets better and better.

<3

Morning comes and Chlo and I are awake before anyone else in the camp.

"No one's even out here," I say to Chlo after we had snuck outside the cabin.

"I know, not even Kim," Chlo adds, looking around. "I thought she would've been awake already."

"They're probably still asleep because of how late we got back yesterday."

She suddenly turns to me, grinning mischievously.

"You know what that means?" She says.

"What?" I ask, grinning back.

"It means we can eat all the food we want,"

"Does it now?"

"Yes"

I grab her arm and yank her behind a cabin just as someone walks out of the dining hall.

"Who was that?!" she whisper-yells in my ear.

"Maybe one of the chefs?"

"Well, then I think he just locked the dining hall for the day," Chlo adds,

"Perfect, then we have so much time," I say.

When the coast is clear, we tiptoe up the side stairs and try the door.

"It's locked!" Chlo whispers.

"Well yeah, he's probably taken the key with him."

"Let's look around though, it's probably around here somewhere."

Sure enough, after less than five minutes we have the key, having found it dangling on a hook next to the door.

I step in and shut the door quietly. Delicious smells swirl around us as we look around the dining hall.

"Woah."

We follow the wonderful aroma to the kitchen. On one long counter, we see four silver trays full of hot, golden-brown cinnamon rolls, with freshly placed icing oozing down their sides and dripping onto their trays. On the left side, there is a large cooling rack, lined with rows and rows of warm, perfect-looking muffins, half chocolate and half blueberry, so fresh that you can see the steam rising off of their soft tops.

Chlo and I look at each other, and we dash toward the pastries. I grab the first muffin I see and stuff it in my mouth. I look over at Chlo, who is stuffing her face with one muffin after the other. The warm and velvety texture calms my taste buds as the luscious, mouth-watering flavor seeps down my neck. My eyes light up like a six-year-old at 4 a.m. on a Christmas morning, and I snatch three more.

Chlo taps me on the shoulder, and I turn and look at her. She points at something behind me and I see the door at the other end of the kitchen begin to open. We exchange panicked glances, and I pull Chlo into one of the cabinets under the sink. I close the cabinet door just as I hear the kitchen door swing shut and someone walks in.

"Where are all my muffins?" a high-pitched, throaty voice says. Footsteps come towards where we're crouched and I hold my breath. The sink is switched on and the water rushes through the pipe next to my ear. The person finishes washing their hands, walks away and I hear a fridge opening. I let out my breath.

"Good thing I kept the extra batter." The voice says. "How did an entire tray of muffins go missing?"

I'm wondering the same thing. I ate four, and Chlo ate . . . probably all the rest.

The person moves around all over the place. I hear them mixing something, the slosh and clank (of a dishwasher), clinks, clanks, and things shutting. Until finally, I hear the beep of an oven's button being pressed and all the sounds stop. The door opens once more and I hear the person walk out.

I open the cabinet door slowly and quietly, checking if the coast is really clear. We must have been in there for at least an hour or two because my back feels just about as flexible as Dora the Explorer when she got run over multiple times on a busy highway.

I straighten myself up, my back audibly cracking.

"That was close," Chlo says, stretching.

"Let's get out of here."

The door abruptly opens and someone walks in. I freeze and my breath catches. It's Sam. She shuts the door and stops, noticing me. Her hair is up in a messy bun again, revealing her glorious undercuts that accentuate her face so well. It feels like hours passed by before anyone says anything.

"What are you doing here?" Sam says slowly, her gaze fixed on me.

"We could ask you the same thing," Chlo says, folding her arms. I forgot about her.

Sam narrows her eyes and folds her arms, noticing Chlo.

"I was helping Mckenna clean the kitchen for breakfast."

My jaw drops even further. "Those were yours?" Chlo asked in disbelief.

Oh right, I remember. It's Mckenna and Sam's turn to make breakfast this week.

I eventually found my words. "Well, thank you for that. We were just leaving." I say, strutting out the opposite door, leaving Chlo behind. I walk out of the dining hall and back to the cabin, and I'm only about halfway there when I realize Chlo's not with me. I race back up the steps, through the dining hall and the swinging kitchen doors, bumping right into Sam coming out at the same time. We look at each other for an awkward moment, then I continue into the kitchen. I find Chlo standing around opening cupboards.

"Chlo!" I whisper-shout. "What are you doing? We have to go!"

"Sam said we could help her and Mckenna," she says.

"And you said yes?" I ask.

"Yeah." She says, looking up at me.

I cover my face with my hands. "Why would you want to help her?"

"I mean we're not really doing anything,"

"Yeah, but . . . but―"

"What's wrong with Sam?" Mckenna asks, walking into the kitchen holding an empty silver tray.

"Nothing, I just—"

"What's wrong with me?" Sam asks, coming out of nowhere and joining in the conversation.

"Nothing! Nothing is wrong with anyone!" I almost yell, storming out of the kitchen and into the dining hall. I lean against the counter as people start filing into the hall for breakfast. Okay, calm down Victoria. Chlo comes out with a serving platter and a lid, an amazing smell wafting from it. She puts it on the counter on the left of me, just as the rest of the campers start to line up.

"Can you go help Mckenna in the kitchen? I'll ask Sam to come help serve everyone if you guys have beef."

"Sure, thanks Chlo. You're a great friend."

I walk back into the kitchen and help Mckenna put together two big serving dishes of eggs and bacon.

"I'm gonna go take these out to Chlo and Sam," She says, taking the large serving dish filled with the eggs. She leaves, and I finish cooking and drying the bacon. Mckenna comes back in.

"Sam wanted me to tell you to meet her by the lake after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I don't know, she just said she wanted to talk to you."

Oh crap. I know what this is about. I'd been avoiding this subject since we got back from the caves.

I hand the platter of bacon to Mckenna and start washing the dishes. I scrub the pan that had the bacon and eggs, and the mixing bowls for the muffins and put them in the dishwasher, then I wipe down the counter. I then take two of the four trays of muffins, carry them out waitress-style and put them on the counter in the dining hall, next to the platter of bacon, avoiding eye contact.

I walk back into the kitchen, take the remaining two trays of muffins, place them in the dining hall next to the other two, then go back in for the cinnamon rolls. After I finish, I take a deep breath, walking out to the lake and sitting on the dock, my legs dangling over the ledge. She comes out a few minutes later and sits next to me.

"So, uhm..." I clear my throat and look down at my lap. "What did you want to talk to me about?" We are way too close to each other. I think as I pick at the cuticles of my fingers.

"I know you've been avoiding me," she says, searching my eyes.

"What do you mean?" I ask, reluctantly meeting her gaze.

"You don't talk to me at all, and you act like I don't exist, "

"I—" I suck in a breath. "Why'd you kiss me?" I blurt out.

Sam looks down at the water. "I—I don't know. I didn't want you to die, and I just . . . got carried away."

"Oh."

I need to get out of here.

"You kissed me back, Victoria." She says, looking at me once again.

"It was spur-of-the-moment," I answer, staring so hard at the water I can almost water-bend. Sam nods slowly, like she doesn't believe me.

"It's just . . . I'm not . . . I'm sorry, okay?" I say, still avoiding her eyes. "I know you didn't mean to, and you know I didn't either. We both made a mistake, apologized and now it's all good. So can we just . . . forget about it and move on?" I look at her.

"Of course." She says. She gazes off into nothingness. "I already forgot."

⚢

When we get back to the dining hall, Kim tells us about the plans for today, but I'm not listening.

" . . . meet down by the lake at 2 p.m. today."

As she finishes talking no one reacts, so I decide that it isn't important.

"What's up with you and Sam?" Mckenna says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What do you mean?" I say.

"Earlier you guys were, like, avoiding each other," She says, squinting at me. "Then I asked her what you guys talked about, and she said you guys were in some kind of fight and had just made up."

"Yeah, no, she's right," I say, frowning. "I guess we're . . . good now."