Virgin Camp

Ryan’s POV

The only thing that was stupider than Virgin Camp was the three other girls assigned the same cabin as me. Daisy was the epitome of pathetic, with her bright hair and mouth full of metal. Big-nose Holly seemed a little shy, and hardly talked to anyone. The worst of the lot, however, was Natalie. From what I could tell, she was a real fucking bitch.

She was exactly the type of girl that Reed would have his way with and then dump, only to have chase after him for weeks later, to the point where he’d have to get a restraining order. It was amusing for me, to just watch all of them and the way they reacted to things. They were all so melodramatic and freaked out about every little thing.

The first night in our shitty cabin had been eventful, to say the least. Daisy freaked out because she thought she saw a rat, and then all of a sudden demanded that Holly let her have the top bunk, when she’d been fighting her for the bottom one to start with. I stayed on my bunk, watching it all with an amused look on my face, completely relaxed. If I was going to be stationed in this hell-hole, I might as well look on the bright side.

My roommates were a never-ending source of entertainment. Especially Daisy, who was one of the most gullible people I have ever come across in my entire life. She believed everything I told her, and was so paranoid that she slept on the top bunk, underneath four extra blankets, in spite of the soaring temperatures and lack of air-conditioning in our shitty cabin.

Natalie pretended like she was repulsed by all my trouble-making, but I could tell she secretly liked it. She was extremely easy to read, and her thoughts were always written all over her face. It was like she wasn’t even trying to hide her feelings and it was blatantly obvious that she hated myself and Daisy. She seemed to not care at all when it came to Holly.

I guess I was the same. I was sort of indifferent towards Holly because she faded into the background and didn’t bother making a nuisance of herself. Not like Daisy, whose personality was too big for her body to handle. Natalie was just a bitch, plain and simple, and I loved winding her up. She got pissed off so easily and so quickly. I’d been making little bets with myself, trying to beat my personal best times.

Waking up at Virgin Camp and accepting that it was the place I was spending my summer was surprisingly not that difficult. I guess I’d talked myself into believing I’d make it out before the day was out. A part of me was enjoying the camp. I finally had a platform to annoy the fuck out of people and get away with it.

I did not, however, appreciate the wardrobe options. I had expected to wake up on that first morning of Virgin Camp and throw on my own clothes, before strolling over to the dining hall to fuck some shit up over breakfast.

Unfortunately, this was not the case. When I jumped from the top bunk to the floor, I saw four, separate, neatly folded piles of clothes on top of the desk in the room with a piece of paper on top of each of them. On closer inspection, I saw that the papers said our names on top.

I picked up the pile with my name on top and started unfolding the clothes. I was immediately disgusted by just what the camp expected me to wear. The black skinny jeans looked like they’d cut off all blood flow to my legs and tee-shirt they’d left for me was at least ten sizes too big. Were they trying to make me look ugly? On the bright side, the shirt had a star wars design on the front. I was busily trying to decide whether it was some sort of joke when I heard someone else get out of bed.

I turned to see Natalie sit up in bed, before throwing a dirty look my way. I smiled sweetly back at her, just to piss her off, and threw her clothes at her.

“What’s this?” she asked, looking down at the clothes now scattered on her bed.

“Uniform,” I said with a shrug, pulling the pocket knife from my pyjama short’s pocket before heading to the communal bathrooms all the group four girls were forced to share. It was only 6am, and not many people were up, so I had the place to myself.

I started with the skinny jeans, slashing the front to pieces so that my legs would actually have room to breathe. I then cut the sleeves off the tee-shirt, a whole lot off the bottom, and I cut the neckline so that it was wider and wouldn’t choke me. Then, I put it all on. I looked at myself in the mirror and laughed, nearly giddy with the thought of Pat freaking out about my haphazard appearance.

As I was walking out of the bathrooms, I was met by Natalie, who didn’t look happy. She raised her eyebrows at me, examining my outfit. I stared back at her in silent challenge, daring her to say something, anything.

“Did you do that to your clothes?” she asked, her eyes landing on the tears in my jeans. I just smirked at her. To my surprise, her lips curved up into a small smile.

“Nice,” she said, before pushing past me to get to the bathroom. I just stood there, completely confused for a few moments, before heading back to the cabin. I saw the others had already put their clothes on and that all of our bags were gone.

“Really, what was the point in even bringing our stuff if they were just going to take it away?” I heard Holly complain as I walked through the door. I chuckled and threw myself on Natalie’s bed, not bothering to climb up to my own. I stared at Daisy, who was wearing a bright yellow tee-shirt and short shorts which did nothing for her plump figure and bright hair. If anything, it made her look worse.

What was happening? I thought the point was to make us look more attractive, but the more I looked around, the more I noticed the changes in everything. On the way to breakfast in the main dining cabin with all the other groups, I noticed that the groups above us were all dressed much nicer, some even wearing designer labels. It became apparent to me that not only were they prettier, they were treated better and received better clothes.

I found myself wondering what their cabins were like. It wasn’t fair that just because they were pretty, they got treated better. Then again, nothing was ever fair. You just had to suck it up and be all cynical about it. It sure seemed to be working for Natalie.

I didn’t see my Virgin Slayer, Damon, at breakfast, though all the others were there. He wasn’t even at my first “class” of the day when I arrived, and I surprised myself by being kind of disappointed about it. All I had to do was make trouble and he’d show up, but I found myself not wanting to do that, either, which was weird.

I didn’t need Damon around to fuel my sarcasm. Natalie was good for that, and coincidently, she was in my first class. I soon discovered that every girl that attended the camp had to attend all the same classes. As a result, the classes were huge. I was early for once, and arrived first at the cabin I had been directed to after breakfast. The cabin was massive and looked like the inside of a university lecture hall. I took a seat at one of the desks at the very back of the room and watched with amusement as everybody else came in and took seats up the front.

The idiots actually looked eager to start and sat bright-eyed and bushy-tailed up the front. Morons. Natalie was the last to enter, and was forced to sit beside me as there were no other seats available. She sat with a scowl on her face and stared straight ahead. My eyes fell on the dress she was wearing. It was hideous and the very worst shade of green. I almost laughed, but stopped myself, instead looking towards the front, where the group four Whitie was preparing herself to address the class.

“Good morning, everyone!” she said excitedly. “Welcome to your very first class at Virgin Camp! Today, we’ll be working on step one in the four-step program you’ll be completing over the course of this summer.”

I groaned. Natalie sighed loudly. Everybody else actually looked excited, and some leaned forward on their desks slightly, as if what our Whitie was saying was the most important thing in the entire world, which, of course, it wasn’t.

“Please raise your hand if you have ever kissed a boy,” the Whitie said. I almost choked with laugher. I raised my hand and covered my mouth with the other, feeling like I was about to die from the hilarity of it all. When I looked up, I noticed that no one else had raised their hands. They all stared back at me, some with horror, and others with annoyance.

The Whitie did not looked impressed. I think she was disappointed I was the only one who had raised my hand. Perhaps she’d been hoping for someone else, anyone else but me. I already knew she didn’t like me – most people at the camp didn’t, and I’d been there for barely 24 hours. I honestly didn’t give a fuck what they thought of me. I was there to screw with their minds and leave them all feeling stupid.

“Lorraine,” the Whitie said. “Please come up the front.”

I raised my eyebrows and pushed out of my seat, taking my time to walk up the front, my chin held high, a smirk on my face. I felt the stares of my fellow campers burn into my back as I passed them, but I ignored it, focusing only on the Whitie at the font of the room.

“It’s Ryan,” I reminded her when I reached the front, staring out at the girls in front of me. The smirk stretched even further across my face when I came to the realisation that I really was the only one in the entire room that had actually kissed a boy before. Maybe some of them had, but were too scared to raise their hands. Either way, I sure as hell was making a scene – which was what I liked most.

The smirk disappeared from my face and was replaced with a deep-set frown with an internal groan to go along with it when all the male Virgin Slayers entered the room. My eyes immediately found Damon’s and he winked at me, making me feel disgusting. I rolled my eyes at him and folded my arms across my chest.

“Since you’re so confident, you can demonstrate your skills with your Slayer,” the Whitie said. I stared at her in disbelief. There was no way in hell I was going to lock lips with Damon. Anyone but him and I would have been happy to oblige. But not Damon. I couldn’t stand the thought of actually kissing the guy I despised.

He was thrilled. He swaggered over to me with a ridiculous grin on his face that made him look like he’d just won the fucking lottery or something. I stared at him, my eyes full of resentment. He just kept smiling, which to me, was the most irritating thing in the entire world.

“Go on, then,” the Whitie said. “If you think you know everything.”

I hated her. Why was she doing this to me? Oh, right. Because I wasn’t exactly liked. She’d been looking for an opportunity to make me look like an idiot and put me in my place and I’d walked right on into her trap. Stupid bitch.

I rolled my eyes and turned to look at Damon. He reached out and took my hand roughly, tugging me closer to him. Whatever cologne he was wearing was much too strong and I held my breath, looking away.

“You know you look like you’ve been mauled by a fucking bear,” he chuckled under his breath. I rolled my eyes and looked up at him, still frowning.

“You should work on your pick-up lines,” I replied bitterly. “They suck.” He laughed.

“You’re just making this more difficult for yourself,” he said under his breath. “Let’s just get it over with, yes?”

I looked back at him and raised my eyebrows. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me. I felt embarrassed, which was so strange for me. Lorraine Ryan, infamous for being shameless, was actually embarrassed. It was madness.

“This is madness,” I muttered.

“Welcome to Virgin Camp, mate,” Damon said with a wink, before taking my face in his hands and crushing his lips to mine. I debated with myself whether attempting to slap his chest to get him off of me would be acceptable. I quickly decided it would make me look like a fucking idiot, and I just wanted to prove the Whitie wrong. She’d crossed me, and now she’d pay.

I hated Damon. I hated the way his lips felt against mine even more. I hated the fact that my whole body started to feel warm, and that his hands slipped down to my waist. I hated the way my hands moved up to grip his neck. I hated the way I ran my hands through his choppy, brown hair and I hated how gloriously soft it felt. I hated the way I felt like I was on fire, like my soul was erupting within me. I hated that he was such a fantastic kisser.

But most of all, I just hated Damon.