"No, no, a thousand times, NO!"
"Oh come on, you're the quietest of us, you're a natural at this!" Lisa said.
"This is bad. I mean, even for you, it's just spectacularly BAD," Sara groused. "And I wasn't even there as part of the bet, so why do I have to do it?"
It was mid-spring, and the choir from Franklin High had gathered for a weekend retreat at a summer camp that rented out during the off-season at the base of the Cascade mountains. Sara was 18, a senior from the Alto section. She was about five seven, with black hair falling to the middle of her back, and creamy tanned skin that reflected her Polynesian ancestry. She tossed a strand of hair over her shoulder and had her arms crossed, determined not to go down from the peer pressure without a fight.
"That's why." Deb grinned, "You weren't there, you didn't get a say. Besides, it's tradition. One girl and one boy is chosen, and the one who makes it back first has to buy the pizza. We do this every year."
"Forget it! I'm not running around in the middle of the night and risking a detention for something I wasn't even a part of!" Sara snapped.
The girls in her cabin merely looked at each other in amusement. "Well, if you don't want to do it we can always run your bra up the flagpole," Lisa said.
Not relishing the idea of being humiliated in front of the entire choir, Sara sighed, "FINE. What do I have to do again?"
"Sneak into the boy's cabin and steal a pair of underwear and get back here by midnight."
******
So of course, after the teachers had made sure they were all in bed and had lights out, she was crouched in the bushes beside the cabin on a cold, drizzling, dismal spring night, watching the beams of the flashlights swinging back and forth across the compound. Sara ran that scene over in her head again and kicked herself again for giving in. She flicked some of her hair, that was already damp, out of her face. Her pajama top and jeans were getting soaked and her thighs were getting sore from crouching. The boy's cabins were on the opposite end of the compound, beyond an expanse of open muddy lawn in between.
The flashlights of the patrolling teachers were fading, and she stood up slowly. She rubbed her legs to get the blood flowing again, and with her heart pounding, she started moving across the edge of the compound. She stuck to the edges and the shadows, trying hard not to step and slip in the mud or rustle any of the underbrush and attract attention. It was right then from the opposite side of the compound, another dark shape moved. She stopped and crouched again, biting her lip. It was a person, she was sure, but not a teacher. They were moving the same way she was across the edge, like they didn't want to be seen. She thought it might be a boy, but she wasn't sure.
Well, whoever they were, they obviously hadn't seen her, were coming straight for her, and they were going to trip over her in a minute if she didn't say something. Just lovely, she thought.
"Who's there?" She asked in a loud whisper.
The person in front of her gasped and jumped almost a foot in the air, then nearly tripped over a bush. "Holy shi--Who's there?" he whispered back.
"I asked you first."
"It's Matt," he whispered, sounding a bit irritated at being taken by surprise, "Who're you?"
"It's me, Sara. What the hell are you doing?" she asked.
"Same thing you're probably doing," he said, still sounding annoyed, "Getting blackmailed into becoming a fucking underwear thief."
She had to giggle a bit at that. Matt was one of the baritones, and sometimes she hung out with him before and after class. She had always had a bit of a crush on him. His hair was cut just between his chin and his shoulders, dyed black with blue streaked bangs, and his clothes tended towards black and blue coloring as well. A silver ring pierced his left eyebrow and ear. He wasn't tall, only about an inch taller than she was, and his face had delicate features, with a thin and wiry build. His piercing brown eyes and a wicked sense of humor offset his small stature, and he was known for his biting sarcasm and being kind of a jerk. But he was nice to her, and always tried to make her laugh.
"Ok, so this is awkward. Are we supposed to swear gender loyalty and subdue the competition?" She asked.
"Hell if I know."
"How about we make a deal? We go back to our cabins, steal our own underwear, and make a trade."
"Why bother going back to the cabins? We can just take them off right here," he said, sounding mischevious.
"You're sick. I like that."
He opened his mouth to say something, then they both heard the crunching of leaves and the scuffle of shoes. A beam of a flashlight was turning around and starting to walk back their way.
"Oh shit," he swore softly, "Come on, let's go to the storage shed, we can hide in there."
"Where's that?" Sara asked.
"It's down the back trail, come on." He said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. The people with the flashlights seemed to pick up that they were there, and Sara tried not to slip in the mud or trip over any of the hidden tree roots and rocks in the dark. Then they finally saw the looming shape of the storage shed. They were both breathing hard by the time they got there.
"Help me find the door," He said, and they started running their hands over the wood of the old cabin. They could see the flashlight coming through the leaves down the trail. Finally they found the latch and scrambled inside. The one room of the old cabin that was now being used for storage was cluttered with stuff. There was a spare bunk with mattresses, some blankets, boxes of lightbulbs, campfire utensils, a shelf of cleaning supplies, and not much else.
Matt secured the door while Sara fumbled with blankets and hauled clutter around that could hide them. She wedged herself down tight behind the spare bunk, pulling what she had gathered around to camouflage them. Matt slipped in beside her, helped her arrange the junk so it looked haphazard, and then huddled with her in the dark corner. It was a tight fit, and she ended up on the floor underneath him. They were pressed together like white on rice as they heard shoes crunching along on the opposite side of the wooden walls. Sara could hear him breathing hard in her ear, and smell the rain, mud, and forest that was clinging to his clothes. She took a moment to inhale his scent. Underneath that, was a hot, musky, undefinable smell, something warm in spicy, that she couldn't quite place. Then she realized it was him. She was so close, she could smell him. The unique scent of his skin made things low in her body tighten involuntarily, in spite of the circumstances.
Matt hissed softly for quiet, since she couldn't quite see what was going on, as the teachers came to check the shed. The door creaked open and she saw from under the bunk the flashlight beam waving over the wood floor. They held their breaths and scrunched down tight behind the bunk. It was very uncomfortable, but they held still, and finally, the door clicked shut and the sound of crunching boots faded into the dark once more.
