Stephanie Johnson

This shit sucks.

I stared at my phone, determined to look anywhere besides the boy on my left. This is all that jerk's fault. I wouldn't be in this stupid situation if he didn't exist. My excitement for my dad and his girlfriend's engagement a few months ago quickly faded as soon as I met the son. The boy, asshole being a much better term, is a sincere pain in the rear. Even though we're the same age, he's had at least ten times the amount of girlfriends as I had boyfriends. Or boyfriend, since I've only had one. As if reading my mind, the boy next to me had the gall to snicker.

Immediately, I had to fight the urge to slam my phone into his head. This little... I could almost feel his smug aura filling the car. Honestly, I wish he'd go die in a ditch somewhere, but that would be unfair to Juanita.

Furrowing my brows, I focused back onto the screen. It just so happened that Miranda King had come out with her new video, this one being, 'How To Get Abs In Just Three Weeks'. This, of course, made my current predicament suck even more. Sure, I may have snapped, but it's because of that asshole's provoking. I figured given his tough-guy personality, stabbing him with a pencil would only deflate his ego a little, not get us stuck on a seven-hour drive to who knows where. I breathed in and out in a poor attempt to calm myself before I lost my temper again. I could be getting that summer body right now instead of being stuck gazing out the window at a never-ending wall of trees. I caught my reflection in the glass, puffy green eyes due to tears of frustration and a rat's nest of flaming red hair. A sharp contrast to the person 'oozing with summer' as my friends had described, beside me. I stared at myself as if daring the reflection to move.

This summer was supposed to be perfect. My friends and I planned to go to the mall every weekend, and there was a new makeup place that I really wanted to try out. I wanted to see if the new rosy pink lipstick worked well with my gold eyeshadow before I blew this week's paycheck on it. We were going to go to the beach later this summer, set on getting the warm glow that radiated off of Miranda King. She was, after all, the beautiful independent woman almost every girl was hell-bent on becoming. Although, as far as I was concerned, my father wasn't going to magically become the Secretary of Defense. If only...

"Move your flat ass." I was quickly startled out of my daydream to see my 'brother' standing outside the open car door. His dark hair was as perfectly styled as ever, and dimples reflected off his copper skin as he smiled, despite how forced it was.

"Santiago!" My stepmother admonished her son as I glared at him. Juanita was such a sweet lady, how she could've given birth to the devil's child, I have no idea.

"Shut your mouth, dear brother, before I shut it for you." Without realizing, my temper had flared and my hands were in fists at my sides.

"I'd like to see you try vampire bitch." His usual insult wasn't far from an accurate description. With my dark eyes, red hair, and pale skin, I very well could've been a gothic monster. Bitch, however, was uncalled for.

"Oh go to hell!" Before we could get in each other's faces, we were quickly pulled apart by our respective parents. My father's hand tightly gripped my shoulder, reminding me of the promise I made a month ago.

"Steph, I want you to promise me that you'll love your brother. Santiago is having a really rough time and Juanita feels terrible about it." I could see in his eyes that he really meant it. I had only met Santiago once, and the impression he left was less than stellar.

"I'll do my best, but he's a huge jerk."

"I know Steph, but he's a teenage boy with family problems-,"

"Sounds like a crappy romance novel," I muttered, recalling a few of the worst books I've read. "All he needs is a leather jacket and to brush up on his tragic backstory."

"STEPH!"

"Okay, okay. Got it."

Clearly, I went back on my promise, but it was well worth it. I turned to take in my surroundings, only then did I notice the huge black gate in front of us and several other teens in line. Going down the line, I noticed a pink-haired duo as well as a tall Asian kid with an amazing jawline. I would've gone up to touch it, but that would be weird. No matter where I looked, they all held a similar position, one of utter arrogance. A few of them glanced at us, disdain clear on their faces.

Santiago and I were shuffled to the end of the line, which wasn't all that long. A man with shocking blonde hair held a hand in front of our parents.

"No parents past this point." His gruff voice spoke with a faint trace of something that made my stomach turn.

"But surely we need to help with check-in?" My father, still wide-eyed, questioned. The man appeared to be amused as he responded.

"Haven't you been briefed on this camp?" His tone was slightly condescending, but I knew better to start a scene, even for the sake of my father's pride.

"No, my friend recommended it to us." Dad's friend, Mrs. Niven was actually the CEO of some company overseas. Her son, after getting sent to this particular camp ended up gaining some intern something or another at the White House. Nevertheless, there was a lot of paperwork and vague wording involved with signing up.

"Well, this will be interesting," The man smiled at us, "Don't worry, we've got all the necessary information on our happy little campers." Not wanting to drag this on any further, I hugged my father and said goodbye. Juanita gave me an awkward hug, though the sentiment was still there. As they got back in the car, Santiago stiffened beside me, dropping his brotherly facade.

"This is your fault." Santiago had a beautiful voice, but that didn't cover up the stupidity that came out of it. The blonde man had mysteriously vanished, probably having walked away as we argued.

"Excuse me? Who called me a bitch in the middle of class?" My voice gradually rose in pitch as I stared at him in disbelief.

"You were whining like one, plus you were the one that initiated physical contact." Santiago gestured to his bandaged arm as if I had kicked a puppy. It hadn't really needed that big of a bandage, but my father insisted on it.

"Sometimes I wonder how you and your amazing mother are related."

"I didn't ask for your white-ass dad to be marrying MY mother." Really? Hung up on the fact we're white?

"So this is what this is about? You're pissed that my dad's white? NEWS FLASH, race doesn't matter!"

"Why don't you tell that to the last dude!" Before I could counter, the Asian boy from earlier had turned around.

"Why don't both of you shut the hell up?" His voice was calm and sophisticated as if he had asked about the weather. Running a hand through dark hair, he turned back to the guard, responding to a question before having a wristband slapped on and being shuffled onwards.

"Truce until we get through?" Santiago held out his hand. I almost looked at it in disgust prior to the realization that we wouldn't get anywhere otherwise.

"Truce."

I waited for my turn to get through the gate, looking around at the other so-called delinquents. There didn't seem to be many of us, or at least the standard amount expected to be at a camp. Then again this is "Camp Progress". Where junior delinquents and teens with "issues" are supposed to "overcome" their challenges and be reentered into society. At least that's what Mrs. Niven said. Most of the kids I saw looked like the type you expect to be here though they were accompanied by expensive clothes and sneers belonging to "first-class" citizens. If you ignore the last part, my "brother" fit in with them perfectly.

One girl, in particular, caught my eye. She stood behind me with a slightly heavier set and round glasses. Her height implied that she would be the one bullied at school with her books thrown onto the ground, but her looks suggested she ought to be treated like a princess. She must've caught me staring as she opened her mouth.

"Hey, I'm Becky!" She smiled as if she had won some grand prize, but her eyes remained downcast. Oh God, she probably thinks I'm some sort of creepy person.

Mustering up a smile I responded, "I'm Stephanie, nice to meet ya." Nice to meet ya? Really? You couldn't sound at least moderately professional?

"What're you here for?" She tilted her head slightly, large eyes seeming to stare through me.

"Oh, I stabbed my brother," I said in the most nonchalant manner possible. It wasn't that big of a deal, was it?

"Oh!" She looked at me with a mixture of horror and disbelief.

"With a pencil," I said as if the information would somehow put her at ease.

"Oh."

"Why are you here?" I asked in a poor attempt to change the subject.

"Drugs and the other usual stuff," she replied, not quite meeting my eyes.

Before I could press her further, it was my turn to get a wristband.

"Phone in the basket. The alarm will sound if you walk past this line with any cellular device." The guard pointed to the tape on the ground in front of me. Begrudgingly I placed my phone alongside the almost full basket. As I stepped over the tape, he roughly grabbed my arm and, with a forbidding click, secured a bracelet to my wrist. Giving it an experimental tug I asked the guard how to remove it.

"You don't," he replied with a smirk.

I took a couple of steps off to the side and studied my new bracelet. Santiago clearly hadn't felt the need to wait behind for me. The band was completely smooth with the numbers 262 engraved on the side. There wasn't even a seam where it snapped together.

Becky walked over staring at her wristband.

"There must be some sort of tracker in it," she muttered. She looked up at me curiously. "We're supposed to go meet everyone in the dining hall, you ready?"

"I guess." Hey, I have one friend, at least.

Together we walked towards our doom.

A/N Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed, please vote if you did!