Perfect All-American Bitch!

by MrAdequateBar

Summary:

Grace Chasity is your typical teenage girl. She gets good grades, goes to church every Sunday, and is even in a courtship with the star football player- so you can imagine her shock when her parents decide she's gay, and ship her off to Camp Idonwannabang to "cure" her.

Luckily for Grace, there's a whole crew of teens in the same boat as her: including the mayor's rebellious, outlandish, and undeniably pretty daughter, Stephanie Lauter.

It was coming, we all knew it. But I'm A Cheerleader AU.

Chapter 1: Chick Habit

Grace is used to coming home and seeing her parents on the couch.

 

What she’s not used to is seeing her parents, her two best friends, and a man in bright blue she’s never met before all sitting around the living room, waiting for her to enter.

 

“Hi, Grace,” the man in blue stands. “Come have a seat. Your friends and family want to have a chat with you.”

 

---

 

EARLIER…

 

“Hey, Grace.”

 

Grace closes her locker to see Jason, her boyfriend, smiling down at her.

 

It’s still weird to call him her boyfriend. Her parents call it “courting”, but Grace has learned that calling it that in Hatchetfield High School earns you a nice swirly, and she hated explaining to her mother why she came home in her gym shirt with her nice clothes in a wet plastic bag.

 

“Hi, Jason.”

 

Jason leans down to kiss Grace on the lips, but she turns at the last second and he catches her cheek.

 

“Are you excited for the big game tomorrow?” Grace smiles. “I’m excited to watch.”

 

It was true. Grace actually liked going to football games. She especially loved watching the cheerleaders, Brenda and Stacey had been really nice to Grace since she and Jason started going out, and they were exceptional at cheering- sometimes Grace foregoes watching the game and just watches the cheerleaders!

 

With a wince, Jason nods. “Yeah. We’re gonna crush those Chemists.”

 

“Heck yeah, we are. Fudge Clivesdale!”

 

Some of her peers standing in the hall don’t seem to hear her entirely properly, because they replace “fudge” with an expletive that Grace is entirely uncomfortable with. And then Jason extends his arm for her to take and she freezes. But then, after a second, she takes it, looking up at Jason and nodding, swallowing the lump in her throat and nodding at the kids she passes in the hallway. 

 

“I was thinkin’, since today’s rest day, we could go get milkshakes at Miss Retro’s after school,” Jason proposes. “What do you think?”

 

Truly, Grace is excited to get home and read her book. And her parents let her pick out a new CD, and she hasn’t listened to it yet. And frankly, she doesn’t care for the way Jason acts whenever they go to Miss Retro’s. Miss Holloway always gives them fries on the house and Jason eats them all, doesn’t even ask Grace if she wants any.

 

But lately… Grace doesn’t know. It was around this time that her parents started doing things like that- and her parents have the perfect relationship!

 

So why doesn’t it feel right?

 

“Sure,” Grace forces herself to say. “Sounds like fun.”

 

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

 

Grace dodges another cheek kiss as Jason drops her off at her English class. Miss Mulberry is erasing the whiteboard as Grace walks in, spotting Brenda and Stacey sitting at the front group of desks and joining them.

 

“Jason keeps trying to kiss me,” Grace laments, pulling out her notebook. “I wish he wouldn’t be so publicly affectionate at school.”

 

Brenda shrugs. “I think it’s sweet when Kyle kisses me in the hall. Like he’s not afraid to show everyone that he loves me.”

 

A blush crawls onto Brenda’s cheeks as she gushes about her boyfriend, and Grace can’t help but watch the delicately painted nails on the finger twirling through her perfectly styled hair, freshly glossed lips talking into oblivion…

 

Riiiiiiiiiiing!

 

The tardy bell goes off. Grace snaps herself out of it. She’d been staring at Brenda for a full minute and twenty-four seconds. Grace supposes she’s just a really good listener, but doesn’t pay any mind that she wouldn’t be able to recall a single word the cheerleader had said.

 

The lights flicker off and Miss Mulberry turns on the movie version of the book they’d been discussing in class. Just yesterday, Orlando had been an estate man, working on his poetry in Elizabethan times, but now she’s a woman of the times, fighting an unfair lawsuit against her estate.

 

Grace breathes heavily. She wrings her fingers together, reminding herself that it’s just a movie and she doesn’t have to participate in this class discussion if she has a religious conflict with the material- that’s the reason why she’s starting to sweat, why her mouth feels numb, why she feels… wobbly.

 

The movie can’t end soon enough. The girls start working on a review worksheet, but Grace doesn’t want to talk. She folds her arms and watches Stacey lean over Brenda, pointing out a piece of information in the book and pushing soft blonde locks out of her face.

 

“Grace?”

 

Back to reality. Once again.

 

“What?”

 

“It feels like it could be an allusion to the Adam and Eve story, right?” Brenda posits.

 

Grace shakes her head. “No. Woolf’s work is actually severely lacking in religious content. Interesting, considering her homosexual lifestyle and connections to occultism, you’d think there would be conflict, right? Nope. She was remarkably agnostic. No battle between the omnipresence of the Church and the life she lived. Weird.”

 

Brenda and Stacey just stare. Stacey points to the paper. “That’s good. Write that down.”

 

She shuts up for the rest of the class period.

 

She’s quiet in Jason’s car, too. He hasn’t tried to kiss her since she dodged him that afternoon, which is good- Jason is seriously serious about consent. Grace remembers the time Brad Callahan grabbed Stacey in the hallway, and Jason gave him a totally righteous sucker punch.

 

That’s why she smiles all throughout their Miss Retro’s date. Sure enough, Miss Holloway brings them a free plate of fries on the house, and sure enough, Jason eats all of them, but Grace can’t even complain. This is just how life is, surely. The American Dream, good as it’s ever gonna get.

 

“Do you wanna turn on the radio?” Jason asks as they drive back to Grace’s house.

 

Grace shakes her head. “I don’t wanna risk something Satanic like Taylor Swift coming on before I can change the station.”

 

The rest of the ride back to the Chasity house is awkwardly silent. Grace tries to say a few things, but Jason doesn’t seem all to interested in making conversation.

 

Jason walks her to the door of her house, but she doesn’t make it too far in before she stops in pure confusion.

 

---

 

Grace gawks. “There’s no way. No heckin’ way.”

 

“I know it can be hard to consider,” the man in blue, Jerry, presses on. “But acceptance is the first step to healing, Grace.”

 

“How can I be a-“ she lowers her voice. “A lesbian ? I’m courting Jason!”

 

“You won’t even kiss me, Grace.” Jason deadpans.

 

Jerry nods. “Refusal of traditional gender roles.”

 

“You seem to know an awful lot about Virginia Woolf…” Brenda says dimly.

 

“Queer iconography.”

 

“You constantly stare at the cheerleaders,” Stacey adds. “At first, I thought maybe you wanted to join the team, but you’re really uncoordinated.”

 

“Inappropriate fantasies?” Jerry questions.

 

Grace shakes her head wildly. “Absolutely not! I may like to watch the cheerleaders, but that doesn’t mean I fantasize about them in ungodly ways!”

 

Karen shakes her head. “We know this is hard, darling. It’s hard for us, too. But we just want you to be healthy.”

 

“This is the best course of action, pumpkin,” Mark adds. “It’s only a few months. They can heal you of this ailment.”

 

“There’s no ailment!” Grace asserts. “I am not a lesbian!”

 

“Grace, this camp will help you, I promise.” Jerry assures her.

 

“I don’t need any help!” Grace cries, standing up.

 

She tries to go to leave, but her father stands in her way. “Grace, are you going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” 

And she tries. Grace tries so hard to be defiant. Her parents and her friends all seem to be in agreement on this. Grace is broken, and she needs fixing.

 

Jerry claps his hands together. “We’ll be expecting you at camp tomorrow morning.”

 

“Tomorrow morning?” Grace asks. “I don’t get any time to say goodbye?”

 

“We need to start treatment as soon as possible,” Jerry assures her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We will get through this, Grace. Trust me.”

 

---

 

Her mother waves as the car skids away, leaving Grace and two suitcases standing under the large wooden sign welcoming her to Camp Idonwannabang.

 

“Oh, welcome, welcome, welcome!” she hears. Turning around, Grace sees Jerry approaching with a woman in a bright pink shirt and her hair in pigtails. 

 

Jerry takes one of the suitcases. “Grace, we are so happy to have you here.”

 

“Yes, any later and we’d have lost you to college,” the woman shakes her head. “I’m Jeri- with an R-I. But you can just call me Girl Jeri.”

 

Grace isn’t sure if she’s supposed to shake Girl Jeri’s hand, but neither one tries to attempt one, so she just nods. “Okay.”

 

“Boy Jerry will take your bags to the Pink Bunk. Let’s get acquainted, shall we?” Girl Jeri offers, leading Grace down the beaten camp path in the direction of a large staff house.

 

Pink and blue flowers in two separate lines clearly mark the path to the various areas of the camp. Grace can see a few folks playing with a dirty tetherball, in similar pink and blue clothes. A girl with long hair and dark lipstick catches Grace's eye and winks.

 

Shaking off the sinking feeling in her stomach, Grace walks up the creaky stairs and follows Girl Jeri inside the old house.

 

Camp Idonwannabang has seven kids in its current program- three boys and four girls, including Grace. She sits across from Girl Jeri in the camp director’s office and shifts uncomfortably as the rules get explained to her. There are five steps she’ll have to make her way through before she will be fully heterosexual again.

 

“The first step is Admitting You’re A Homosexual,” Girl Jeri explains. “Sounds easy enough, right?”

 

Grace shrugs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t lie. I’m not.”

 

“I know it’s hard, Grace, but we’re here now. You don’t have to worry about what people think. We are all here for you.”

 

“That’s great, I guess, but I am seriously not a lesbian. I don’t need any of this.”

 

“ Can you just say it?!”

 

Girl Jeri opens her eyes, realizing she’s slammed her hands on the table. Wincing, she sits back down and leans forward towards Grace.

 

“I don’t think this is working, Grace. Why don’t you come with me? Let’s meet your fellow soldiers.”

 

Grace stifles a groan, following Girl Jeri down the hallway in pure reluctance.

 

The six kids are sitting in a semi-circle, waiting for her, like some sort of cult welcoming. A pink ribbon tied around a green chair waits for her, Boy Jerry extending a pair of scissors in her direction.

Chapter 2: Admitting You're A Homosexual

Summary:

Grace settles into Camp Idonwannabang, meeting the other nerdy prudes she'll be spending the next few months with.

“Why don’t we start with some introductions,” Girl Jeri starts once Grace sits down. “Remember kids, your name, something fun, and your reiteration.”

 

“Um- uh- okay, I’m Peter, o-or Pete, if you want,” the boy on the far left starts, fiddling with his glasses. “I don’t really have any fun facts. I’m diabetic- does that count?  And technically, I’m bisexual , but they wouldn’t let me leave their office yesterday until I said I was a homosexual.”

 

“Fuckin’ real, man.” The girl on the other side of the line stands up and high-fives Pete. Boy Jerry glares at her and she sits back down.

 

The next boy looks at the Jerrys with a cold stare, until he finally just relents and turns to Grace. “Max. I play football.”

 

“And…?” Girl Jeri persists. “Your reiteration, Max. It’s the most important part.”

 

Max stomps his foot on the ground. “I’m a homosexual.” he murmurs.

 

“I’m Richie,” the next boy speaks up. “I’m gay, but I also like Naruto, and One Piece, and Death Note, but I don’t like Black Butler- ”

 

“Alright, we get it!” the girl next to Richie shoves him on the arm and readjusts the curls sticking out of her headgear. “I’m Ruth, and I do theater… and I’m a- a homosexual.”

 

Next to Ruth sits a girl in a black beanie, with heavy eye makeup, picking at her fingernails. “I’m Rose. I’m in a rock band. And I guess I’m a homosexual.”

 

Rose elbows the last girl in the lineup- it’s the girl who winked at Grace from the tetherball court, the girl who’d just high-fived Pete. She smiles at Grace again, precisely lined eyes dancing right into Grace’s. “I’m Steph. Luckily for you nerdy prudes, I swing both ways.”

 

“Stephanie!” Girl Jeri interjects. “What have we said about inappropriate language?”

 

“I’m just telling it like it is, Jeri,” Steph says. “Give a girl a break.”

 

“Your turn, Grace.” Girl Jeri turns to Grace in a huff.

 

Grace frowns. “Well, the first part’s easy. My name’s Grace Chasity and I’m very devoted to my parents, my church, and my boyfriend. Hear that? Boyfriend. There is no way that I’m a homosexual. There’s been some kind of horrible mistake.”

 

“You guys boned yet?” Rose asks, deadpan.

 

“Absolutely not!” Grace exclaims. “I am a Christian .”

 

“So am I. What’s your point?” Pete says.

 

“Then you should know, Peter, that premarital sex is a sin! The worst sin of all!”

 

“Really? I would’ve thought it’d be, I dunno, murder?” Ruth posits.

 

“It’s different from denomination to denomination.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Steph groans. “You don’t wanna have sex with him 'cause you don’t even like him.”

 

“I do like Jason!” Grace insists.

 

“You love him?”

 

Grace looks up at Max, who’d asked the question. She hesitates. 

 

“I- that’s not important.” Grace huffs. 

 

Boy Jerry leans forward. “Your cheerleader friends said you stare at them a lot. What do you think about when you look at them?”

 

“I dunno! They’re good dancers, and their uniforms are nice.”

 

“You curious about what’s under ‘em?” Ruth asks.

 

“Never!” Grace shakes her head. “Well, unless… but that’s not- every girl wants to have the body of a cheerleader. It’s in all those inappropriate magazines I’m not allowed to look at, right?”

 

“Not when you’re thinkin’ about rubbing your hands all over someone else’s body,” Richie says, staring at the floor. “A girl’s body, in your case.”

 

“And the Virginia Woolf?” Boy Jerry adds.

 

“I work hard in English class, is getting good grades a gay thing now?” Grace asks. She’s hyperventilating, because underneath it all, she knows the truth is threatening to escape her mouth.

 

“It’s all about context, Grace,” Girl Jeri says. “Think: is that really what everyone thinks? Or is that just what you’ve told yourself?”

 

Grace bursts into tears. Ugly, blubbering, snotty sobs escape her mouth as it hits her all at once.

 

“Grace…?”

 

“Am I- am I-”

 

“You can say it, Grace,” Boy Jerry persists. “Take that first step.”

 

“ I’m a homosexual! ”

 

No one really helps Grace as she crumples to the floor in tears, slobbering all over herself- it’s almost like they expected this to happen. 

 

And that’s where they leave her. Lying on the ground, crying into her shirt, Grace Chasity faces her new reality.

 

---

 

The satin nightgowns are the first pink thing that Grace encounters. It slips over her head as Girl Jeri takes off with the clothes Grace came in. Then, she enters the Pink Bunk, which is decorated top to bottom with flowery, glittery, pink everything.

 

“It looks strangely like my bedroom.”

 

“Oh yeah, princess?” Steph says, walking in behind Grace. She’s in the same satin gown, looking out of place in the delicate thing.

 

Ruth appears on the other side of her. “At least it’ll help you assimilate.”

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s just the thing she needs,” Steph flops onto her bed. “The color pink kept you straight at home, it’ll definitely make you straight here.”

 

“I don’t think a color can affect your sexual orientation.” Ruth says.

 

Steph glares up at them both. “It was a joke, Fleming.”

 

“Right,” Ruth nods, wandering over to her own bed. “I knew that.”

 

“Two fuckin’ months,” Steph grumbles. “Guess we better get used to it, ladies.”

 

“Not me,” Rose insists. “I’m getting saved. As soon as possible.”

 

“Really? How are you gonna manage that?” Ruth asks.

 

Rose shrugs. “I’ve got Needy Beast.”

 

The other three girls stare at her in confusion.

 

“My bandmates,” Rose continues. “They’re all old and have, like, apartments and stuff. They said they’d come get me.”

 

“Right,” Grace scoffs. “Do you think that’s safe?”

 

“Safer than here.”

 

Grace gets the last open bed, in between Ruth and Rose, and discovers her suitcase underneath it. It’s been rummaged through, some of her items missing, including her stuffed bear, Darla, that she’s slept with since she was a little girl.

 

“Alright, girls,” four heads turn to see Girl Jeri entering the cabin without knocking. “It’s lights out time. Are you all ready?”

 

“Um, Girl Jeri…” Grace approaches the counselor, lowering her voice. “I had a bear in my suitcase, but I can’t find him.”

 

Girl Jeri shakes her head. “We don’t allow things like that. It invites too many inappropriate thoughts.”

 

“...What?” Grace asks. 

 

“Yeah, can’t risk you humping your teddy bear in a room with three other girls.” Steph calls out from her bed.

 

“ Stephanie! ”

 

“I wouldn’t do that!” Grace cries. “I would never!” 

 

“I’m really sorry, Grace,” Girl Jeri tries to assure her. “But there’s nothing I can do.”

 

Grace shrugs. “Well I guess I’m ready for bed then.” She trumps off to her bed dejectedly.

 

Girl Jeri turns the lights out as the girls try their best to get settled in the squeaky plastic sheets, covered in the cheap comforters that don’t comfort anyone. When Grace is sure that the counselor is gone and the cabin is mostly silent, she lets the tears start to fall from her eyes.

 

The next morning, the kids line up for breakfast and sit around the single table outside the mess hall. It’s clear the Jerrys had expected more people, considering the scale of the camp, so it’s eerily quiet with just the two counselors and seven kids.

 

“How did you guys sleep?” Ruth asks, quickly following it up with “I didn’t.”

 

“Me neither,” Max groans. “Richie wheezes like a bitch.”

 

“I have asthma, genius.” Richie replies, wincing when Max gets in his face.

 

“Ladies, ladies, we all slept like shit,” Steph cuts in. “Get over yourselves.”

 

“What comes after this?” Grace asks. “Like, where are we supposed to go?”

 

“Group therapy.” comes a rousing response.

 

Right. Grace had arrived to camp a day late. She has no idea why. But she was an outsider among a group of outsiders, and it was starting to really feel like it.

 

That morning, Girl Jeri introduces them to the concept of a “root”. Each of the kids will have to think and journal about what they think is the root cause of their homosexual tendencies.

 

“I don’t think anything causes it, though…” Ruth trails off. “It’s just kind of… a part of you.”

 

“That’s what those bird-brained liberals would have you think.” Boy Jerry says.

 

“It’s very important that you take these roots to heart, so we can learn to undo them,” Girl Jeri adds. “Every effect has a cause, right? And we’ve got some big causes to find.”

 

Grace thinks. She really doesn’t know what might’ve caused her to think this way, because she didn’t think she was a lesbian until yesterday anyway.

 

As she looks around the room in pondering, she meets eyes with Steph across the room, who gives her a small wave. Smiling, Grace waves back.

 

“Steph? Anything you’d like to share with the room?” Boy Jerry asks, clearly catching onto the interaction.

 

“Yeah, I’ll share,” Steph smiles at her peers. “I think I became bisexual when the Hatchetfield Ape-Man crawled into my bedroom window as a child and injected me with gay drugs.”

 

“Which kinds of drugs are gay, Steph?” Pete asks, laughing.

 

Steph scoffs. “Oh, black tar heroin, for sure.”

 

The kids burst into laughter, even when the Jerrys start snapping at them.

 

“Drugs are no joke, Stephanie,” Girl Jeri insists. “Drugs lead to lower inhibitions, which leads to premarital sex, which leads to babies and homosexuality and homosexual babies!”

 

“I think Homosexual Babies should be your new band name, Rose!” Ruth proposes, which makes the group laugh even harder.

 

“All of you shut up!” Boy Jerry shouts. “You guys wanna spend the next day in solitary? Shut up and do what we tell you, or else you are gonna regret it!”

 

The room quiets down. Grace watches Max and Richie scoot closer together as Richie quietly helps Max spell the word “gymnasium” on his paper.

 

Through it all, Grace’s paper remains blank. Even when the therapy timeslot ends and the other kids move on to lunch, Grace sits where she is and taps her pencil against blank paper, wondering, thinking too hard, trying to find something that made her this way.

 

She gives up after twelve more minutes and places the pad and pencil on the floor in front of her, disappointedly joining the others for lunch.

 

“The conversion therapy is bad,” Steph laments. “But the food is a close second for ‘worst part of camp.’”

 

“Right? I can’t wait to get out of here.” Rose reiterates.

 

“I’m just biding my time,” Pete says quietly. “I’m leaving as soon as camp is over.”

 

“Where will you go?” Richie asks.

 

“My brother’s already got a room set up for me. He lives downtown.”

 

“Lucky!” Ruth says. “I wish I had a cool brother.”

 

“Oh, he is cool,” Pete clarifies. “In fact, he’d make the Jerrys run screaming. And, he’d never send me here.”

 

Grace keeps herself quiet as the others talk about their parents. Max’s dad is mean. So is Ruth’s mom. Richie and his brother have bounced around foster homes since he was thirteen.

 

As Rose is explaining her parents rampant Catholicism (which nearly makes Grace vomit), she looks over at Steph- the only other person who hasn’t mentioned their parents.

 

There’s a reason for this, obviously- everyone knows Steph’s dad, Solomon Lauter. He’s the mayor of Hatchetfield. He allows for things like Camp Idonwannabang to run. He’s the enemy and best friend of every household in the town, and Steph probably doesn’t want to talk about someone everyone feels like they already know. 

 

They’re finishing up their meals and running them through the kitchen when Girl Jeri appears, clapping her hands together to get the kids’ attention.

 

“Alright, folks- afternoon activities time!” she beams. “Girls are with me, boys with Jerry. He’s gonna take you down to the woods- girls, let’s head to the arts pavilion.”

 

For a camp intended to turn kids straight, they really did separate the groups by gender a lot. But that’s not at the forefront of Grace’s mind as she, Steph, Rose, and Ruth make a shoddy single-file line (per Jeri’s instructions) and head in the direction of the arts and crafts pavilion.

Notes:

other kids are here other kids are here yayyyy

wait until you guys see why i included rose in this fic. because ofc its for comedy purposes (as well as just needinganother person)

underscore-jude on tunglr signing off cause it's 2am YIPPEE

Chapter 3: Rediscovering Your Gender Identity

Summary:

Reorientation lessons go awry for both the boys and the girls. Away from the prying adult eyes, both Grace and Steph and Max and Richie share private moments.

Pete, Max, and Richie stand in a line in a clearing of the Witchwood, a little ways off from the main camp area. They wait for Boy Jerry, who arrives with a dull, rusty ax over his shoulder.

 

“Alright, boys. Nothing like a little manual labor to straighten out those crooked brains, huh?” Boy Jerry posits, adjusting his posture.

 

He demonstrates the process of how to properly split a log of firewood, the three boys sharing a look.

 

“How the hell is this supposed to make us straight?” Max whispers.

 

“I have no fucking clue.” Pete replies.

 

“Now, this is white oak,” Boy Jerry explains. “Not that that matters, but some people like detail. What you’re gonna want to do, as beginners, is follow the preexisting cracks in the grains of the wood. Just find the groove, prepare yourself, and…”

 

Thwack!

 

Jerry swings down the hatchet and makes a crack in one of the logs. He points, allowing the boys to observe, and then swings a second time, fully splitting it in half.

 

“See? Easy as one, three, five.”

 

Max goes first. Unsurprisingly, he excels at the physical task and splits his log in two clean swings. When Pete and Richie go to clap for him, Boy Jerry glares.

 

“Clap like men, boys!” Jerry says.

 

Absolutely confused, Pete and Richie resolve that he just means to be louder. It seems to satisfy Jerry, so Pete takes the hatchet from Max and they move on.

 

It takes three swings, but Pete manages to split his log as well. Awkward, loud clapping plays out and Richie prepares to go last, wiping his hands off on his shorts.

 

“Sweaty hands,” Richie chuckles awkwardly. “Sorry.”

 

Boy Jerry doesn’t say anything, just hands off the hatchet and steps back. With a deep breath, Richie raises the hatchet and aims for the groove in the wood. 

 

See, the hatchet isn’t really sharp at all; that makes Richie lucky, because if it was any sharper, then he’d have ended up much more hurt than he did.

 

Missing the log entirely, Richie manages to slam the hatchet into his knee, sending a shockwave up his entire body. He falls backward, dropping the hatchet and letting out a pained wail that reverberates across camp. 

 

Jerry extends a hand, stopping Max and Pete from rushing forward to check on Richie. He shakes his head and kneels down in front of the injured boy.

 

“The skin breaking won’t be a huge issue,” Jerry says, almost nonchalantly, inspecting the gushing wound. “It’s the possible dislocation I’m worried about. Can you extend your knee at all, kid?”

 

Richie tries, but searing white hot pain shoots up his body again, so he weakly shakes his head instead.

 

“Ah, beans,” Boy Jerry scratches his head. “Alright, then. Let’s get him up to the medic’s cabin.”

 

Pete and Max stand on either side of Richie, helping him up. As they stumble back up the path it becomes clear that Pete’s going to be of no help and Max just picks Richie up bridal style, hoofing it in the direction of the medic’s cabin, much to the chagrin of Boy Jerry.

 

---

 

“Now, each doll has been outfitted with dyed water, so you can know if you’ve done it right!” 

 

Sitting in front of Grace and Steph is a ratty old baby doll on a rolling cart, across from Ruth and Rose, who have the same. Girl Jeri lifts a bag of diapers into the air, the same as the dolls are wearing, and the four girls share a collective batch of nervous looks.

 

At first, it doesn’t go too badly. Rose and Grace are first up, following Girl Jeri’s instructions as best they can. Grace ends up with something remarkably close to the demonstration, and Rose isn’t far behind. It’s when Steph and Ruth are up to the plate that things go awry.

 

Steph drops her doll, but Girl Jeri completely forgets about that when Ruth’s doll starts to malfunction and she screams about it.

 

“It’s buzzing at me! It’s buzzing at me!” Ruth shrieks.

 

Girl Jeri makes a face. “It’s not supposed to do that. Let me see.”

 

The two wrestle with the doll, as the buzzing noise gets louder and louder. Just when it’s almost too late, Steph, Grace, and Rose hit the deck as the thing explodes, covering both Ruth and Girl Jeri in dark purple ink.

 

“...Girls, we’re going to come back to this tomorrow.” 

 

The girls nod. After a moment of silent confusion, Steph puts down her doll and heads for a roll of paper towels.

 

“Ruth, we’ll have to take off your headgear. Can you do that?” Grace asks, helping the temporarily blinded girl to sit down.

 

Ruth nods, pulling the thing off her head. Rose comes forward with a wet washcloth but stops when Ruth sets the headgear on the table. “You don’t even have braces.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Ruth shrugs. “I haven’t needed the headgear since eighth grade. But it kept people from slamming my head into walls, so I kept wearing it.”

 

“That’s… really fuckin’ depressing.” Steph comments. They’re sure Girl Jeri would protest Steph’s language if her head wasn’t stuck under the sink. None of them really comment on the fact that all three of them ignored Jeri in favor of helping Ruth.

 

Grace takes the washcloth from Rose and starts wiping ink off of Ruth’s face, while Steph pats her hair dry. The two meet eyes in contented silence, and Steph smiles at Grace. Grace smiles back.

 

“Okay, I’ve done your eyes as best I could,” Grace says. “Can you open them?”

 

Ruth can, blinking out the last of the ink in her eyelashes, and smiles as the two taller girls continue their ministrations. “You guys are being really nice to me. It’s weird.”

 

Grace raises an eyebrow. “Are people usually not nice to you?”

 

“Nope!”

 

“God, you nerdy prudes really are miserable,” Rose says as she reenters the art pavilion. “Grabbed you a new shirt, though.”

 

“Really?!” Ruth squeals, blushing.

 

Rose nods. “Yeah. You have ink all over yours.”

 

Ruth breathes heavily. “Wow. Is this what it feels like to have friends?”

 

“We’ve known each other four days, Fleming,” Steph tosses a wad of ink-covered paper towels in a nearby trash can. “Easy on the f-word.”

The other three girls chuckle at each other at that. Grace knows she shouldn’t promote that kind of profanity, but it feels nice to join in on the laughter. So she does.

 

---

 

In the nurse’s cabin, Max sets Richie down on the cot and flips the lights on. Pete follows them in but catches sight of Richie’s full wound as he pulls the leg of his shorts up and runs back outside heaving.

“Jerry not come in?” Richie asks, looking out the doorway as best he can from his current position.

 

“I guess not,” Max answers, looking for their counselor and only seeing Pete running away. He turns back to Richie, pretty useless to himself. “I guess- uh- do you…”

 

Max doesn’t finish his sentence. He simply turns around and starts fishing around in the cabinets, managing to find some gauze and tape and stumbling to deposit them on the counter.

 

“Oh! Wait!” 

 

Richie watches Max rip through even more cabinets to find gloves, pulling a pair on and flipping on the sink to run a paper towel under cold water. Turning back to Richie, Max’s smile looks just a little bit mad.

 

“So you don’t get sick, right?” Max clarifies. “I saw a guy on the news whose cut wasn’t clean and his leg got all green and filled up with pus and they had to cut it off. I don’t wanna have to cut your leg off.”

 

Richie shakes his head. “No, I don’t want that either.”

 

“...But you’d look kinda cool with a peg leg.” Max guffaws.

 

“I could be a real Edward Elric!” Richie beams.

 

“Hell yeah!” Max nods. “Is that, like, a pirate?”

 

“Uh… almost.”

 

The two look at each other for a moment too long.

 

“... Oh my God, your leg!” Max shouts, running forward. He looks Richie in the eyes. “This might hurt, okay?”

 

“I’ve felt worse- yeowch!”

 

Max starts patting at the wound, getting as much blood up as he can so he can see the actual cut underneath. Knee injuries are always the worst- they’re the most important joint, in Max’s humble opinion.

 

“Where did you learn how to clean a wound?” Richie asks, watching Max delicately dab at the cut. 

 

“Football, bro. I’ve seen more injuries than you’d ever believe.” Max answers.

 

“Oh, I’d believe you,” Richie assures him. “I’m, uh- the mascot at my school.”

 

Max smirks. “Man, that’s cool. I mean- it’s not cool, not as cool as football, but… I dunno, man. If we went to school together, I’d have bullied the shit out of you.”

 

“I had an inkling,” Richie replies. “You’re a bit of a jock.”

 

Max doesn’t say anything as he wraps a bandage around Richie’s knee.

 

“That’s a good thing, by the way,” Richie adds. “It’s fine to be a jock.”

 

“Sure,” Max says with a scoff, patting the bandaged knee. “Let me find you some painkillers, then we can get the hell out of here.”

 

“Does this really seem like the type of place that believes in medicine?” Richie jokes.

 

Max laughs at first but stops when he comes across something in the cabinet that doesn’t quite belong. He lifts the thick black book to show Richie, making a face. “The hell is this?”

 

Curiosity getting the best of them, they spend a solid five minutes sifting through pages in what seems to be an old camper’s journal. Stories, diary entries, and drawings of what is undoubtedly a program at Camp Idonwannabang like the one the boys are in right now.

 

Max looks up at Richie. “Dude, this urban legend shit is freaky.”

 

“Not that scary. I’ve played Corpse Party.” Richie folds his arms. 

 

“This is what they should be scaring us straight with!”

 

Richie bursts into laughter.

 

“You laughin’ at me?” Max asks, genuinely a little sad.

 

“No, no, not at all!” Richie insists. “I was laughing at the story. I think we should use this.”

 

“Use it? How you mean?”

 

“Find those painkillers,” Richie says, pointing back to the cabinets. “Let’s talk.”

 

---

 

From the window of the camp office, Grace watches the other campers enjoy their free time while she sits on the phone, her parents updating her on everything she’s missed in the past week.

 

“ And Mr. Woodward’s daughter is back in town, remember how you two used to play together as kids? ” Karen asks.

 

Grace resists the urge to roll her eyes, as this is her mother, whom she respects above all else, but yes , she remembers Alice Woodward. She remembers Alice all too well. 

 

Alice is two years older than Grace, but the two were thick as thieves as little kids, playing in the church garden and whatnot- that was until Alice hit middle school and dumped Grace entirely. Then, she fell into her homosexual ways, and Mr. Woodward didn’t even send Alice to someplace like Camp Idonwannabang, he just supported her unconditionally and loved her no matter what and tried his best to understand her and-

 

“Yes, Mother, I remember,” Grace answers glumly. “She bring Deb?”

 

“ I haven’t seen Deborah around, I suppose she couldn’t get the time off. It’s rare those two are apart, they’re such good friends!”

 

Of course, Karen thinks Deb and Alice are only friends. 

 

“ But enough about us, darling- how’s camp going? Those Jerry’s any good?” Grace hears her dad ask.

 

Grace sighs. “Yeah, Daddy, they’re good. I’m- they’re gonna fix me soon.”

 

“That’s great, darling. We can’t wait to have you back home, all better.”

 

In the distance, Grace spots a pink paper airplane soaring through the air and hitting Ruth in the back as she’s heading over to sit with Pete and Richie. She readjusts her headgear- which she’s put back on, for some reason- and picks up the paper airplane, unfolding it and reading something. From the direction of where the paper airplane came from, Grace can barely make out the disappearing figure of a person in a bright tie-dye shirt scurrying off into the distance.

 

“Uh, yeah, Daddy, I’m excited too,” Grace says, cutting off whatever her father was in the middle of saying. “Hey, listen, I gotta go, but I’ll see you on Saturday for family therapy, right?”

 

“Of course, dear, we wouldn’t miss it.” Mark says.

 

“Yes, anything we can do to help our little angel.” Karen follows.

 

“Alright. See you then. Love you.”

 

“We love you too, Gracie.”

 

Grace hangs up.

 

“Why, I’m just doin’ my very best to be your perfect little straight girl, Daddy! ” Steph exclaims in an exaggerated Southern accent. 

 

Grace jumps. “Don’t you have better things to do than eavesdrop?”

 

“Not really,” Steph laughs. She puts the accent back on. “Besides, sweet little Gracie is just the peak of entertainment, pretending she doesn’t constantly think about the feeling of a woman’s breasts against hers.”

 

“Gross!” Grace frowns. “You are so disgusting, Lauter.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Steph asks sarcastically. “At least I’m not lying to myself .”

 

Grace shakes her head. “I wouldn’t lie. Lying is a sin.”

 

Steph leans in close. “Then what do you call ‘trying to convince yourself that you can be fixed’? Cause I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen.”

 

"I am convinced of one thing, Stephanie," Grace reaches out for the other girl's hand. "That whatever the Lord's plan is will be truth."

 

"And if that plan isn't what your parents want it to be?"

 

Grace pauses. "Then I don't know what I'll do. But I don't think that's going to be a problem."

 

"Sure."

 

Their eyes linger on each other for just a little bit too long for it to be a genuine taunt. But, in the same instant, just as Steph has looked at Grace, she’s turned away, heading over to the nerds at the picnic table.

Notes:

So fun fact, I’m a senior in college rn and simultaneously working on my thesis while i work on this. you have no idea how hard it is to balance the macbeth critical analysis swimming in my brain fighting against the lesbian grace chasity shark.

ziggs be like *scurrys away*

Chapter 4: Family Therapy

Summary:

Grace learns about her fellow campers' home lives. Max and Richie pull a prank. Grace makes a discovery (and a bad decision).

“Alright,” Boy Jerry sighs as the kids settle into the couch of the group therapy room. “Root reports. Who’s got something to share?”

 

“You didn’t like my gay drugs excuse?” Steph asks. “That one usually works.”

 

“No, Stephanie, we didn’t like it. At all.” Girl Jeri reiterates through gritted teeth. “Max. You’re up.”

 

Max groans. “I spend a lot of time in men’s locker rooms. That work for you?”

 

“Shower time after sports can be traumatizing for many young boys,” Boy Jerry says. “The open stalls, towel games, hot, steamy bodies…”

 

“Something he’d like to share with the class?” Richie whispers to Max, the two laughing.

“Richie? Your root?”

 

“Uh…” Richie looks to Max, then back to the Jerrys. “I don’t have parents, man. Hard to have a strong maternal figure keeping me on the right track…?”

 

Girl Jeri puts a hand to her heart. “Yes, a lack of affection can lead to some devastatingly bad choices made in young adulthood, unfortunately.”

 

Richie shuts up after that.

 

Drearily, the conversation makes its way down the line.

 

“Same as Rich, dude. My mom died in a freak accident when I was nine, you think any of that made me normal?” Steph says, but winks at Grace as if to let her know that she’s completely lying.

 

“My brother’s bisexual. Lead by example, right?” Pete murmurs, fist-bumping Ruth.

 

Ruth chuckles. “So’s my dad. That’s why he left.”

 

“You can’t have me idolize the Virgin Mary my entire childhood and expect me to not be some form of queer.” Rose says.

 

All eyes in the room turn to Grace. 

 

“Um…My parents are… And I…” Grace thinks out loud. “Is it possible that I just… don’t have a root?”

 

The rest of the kids all glare at her. They’ve all made up some bullshit to appease the Jerrys, and Grace might just ruin this for them. 

 

“Everyone has one, Grace,” Girl Jeri explains. “Abnormalities like this just aren’t human nature.”

 

Grace racks her brain. She thinks back on her childhood, her school years, every time she spoke to another woman, and seriously, honestly, truthfully… can’t think of anything. It sits in her brain for minutes, to the point where the others in the room are getting seriously annoyed with her, and she starts to panic.

 

“Grace, we’ll come back to this tomorrow,” Boy Jerry decides, standing. “Try to have a root by then, okay?”

 

Nodding silently, Grace looks to her fellow campers, who look more dejected and sympathetic than they did before.

 

Girl Jeri joins Boy Jerry. “Alright, kids, we need to partner up. These people will be our buddies for the rest of camp. Steph and Grace.”

 

Grace looks over at Steph, who nods curtly.

 

“Richie and Max.”

 

Max tries to hide his excitement. He doesn’t do it very well.

 

Ruth, Pete, and Rose go as a trio, much to Ruth’s delight. Boy Jerry passes out packs of flash cards to each of the groups and sends them on their way.

 

On a bench by the lake, Grace holds up a picture of a woman vacuuming to Steph. “What is it?”

 

“The ugliest dress I’ve ever seen.”

 

Grace frowns. “She’s committed to her role as a woman.”

 

“Her role? ” Steph scoffs. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“My mom always tells me that men and women have to fulfill their roles,” Grace presses on. “She’s the homemaker, while my dad brings in the money. It’s simple.”

 

“I hate to break it to you,” Steph leans in close. “But your mommy’s full of shit.”

 

“Language, Steph!”

 

“I’m not wrong, though, am I?” Steph asks. “And I think you know it.”

 

Grace lowers her voice. “I don’t care if you’re right or wrong. We’re here to learn how to do things a certain way.”

 

“Speak for yourself. I’m here cause my dad-” Steph breaks for a second, leaning back in her seat. “Never mind.”

 

Grace shuffles awkwardly, and puts the cards down at her side. “Um. What you said about your mom… is that true?”

 

“...What the fuck, Chasity.”

 

“I’m sorry, was that not an appropriate thing to ask-”

 

“Yes, it’s true, why would I make that up?” Steph continues, glowering. “And the past nine years have been a Solomon Lauter-branded hell ever since. Thanks for asking.”

 

Grace places a hand on top of Steph’s. “Gosh, Steph…I’m so heckin’ sorry.”

 

“Don’t be fuckin’ sorry for me,” Steph pulls her hand away. “Not like there’s anything you could do about it.”

 

The conversation falls into a lull from there. Grace tries her best, but there’s not much else she can think of to say. Her own parents had sent her here, sure, but at least they… well, suppose the camp didn’t work. Suppose Grace is cursed to be a lesbian forever. Would her parents accept her back home? The scariest thing of all to Grace is that she doesn’t know.

 

But Steph does know. She knows that the answer is no, Solomon will not take Steph back in if she doesn’t fix herself at Idonwannabang. She’ll be a forever outcast. 

 

Grace’s hand tingles where she touched Steph’s. She wants to do it again but doesn’t dare. The two simply watch the sun move over the lake.

 

---

 

“You ready for this, dude?”

 

“Ready!” 

 

“Jägerman! Lipshitz! Enough gossiping!”

 

Boy Jerry calls Max and Richie over to the fire pit, where the rest of the kids sit on stripped logs, hunched over. Jerry tries to stoke up the fire, while Girl Jeri appears in the distance, carrying grocery bags on both arms. 

 

“You kids better get hyped up. It’s cookout night!” Girl Jeri squeals, setting down the grocery bags next to a rusty old grill.

 

“We’re not seriously using that to cook, right?” Pete asks. “That thing probably has a litany of diseases I don’t feel like being introduced to.”

 

Boy Jerry scoffs. “Nonsense! If anything, the exposure will build up your tolerance.”

 

Pete shakes his head. “That’s not even a little bit true.”

 

“Take one for the team, Pete! If the diabetic dies from poisoned hamburgers, maybe that’ll give someone a reason to sue this place!” Ruth says, half-joking.

 

“Your death would not be in vain, Micro-Peter.” Max adds, saluting the nerd.

 

Pete rolls his eyes.

 

“I’ll get the grill started so we can have some supper under the stars!” Jerry heads over to the grill and takes a lighter from one of the grocery bags. 

 

“Shouldn’t I be doing the cooking, Boy Jerry?” Girl Jeri folds her arms. “Cooking is a woman’s business, you know.”

 

Boy Jerry pauses. “You know… but- but this is grilling, not cooking! And grilling is a man’s job.”

 

“Are they really so different? If we start to blur the lines, these campers here might start to get the wrong ideas about our roles in society.”

 

“If a boy makes a fuckin’ hamburger?” Rose whispers, earning a few laughs from the other campers.

 

Boy Jerry groans in frustration. “Playing with fire could get you burned, Girl Jeri. Why don’t I make the burgers, and you prepare the fixings? Much more similar to cooking.”

 

None of the kids miss the way Girl Jeri grumbles a little bit, but obeys. 

 

After a long enough while, the sun is comfortably sinking behind the trees of the Witchwood Forest and the campers are eating charred burgers around a small fire. The Jerrys headed back up to the dining hall to put away the rest of the food, so the kids have a little bit of time to themselves.

 

“Oh, that’s right, I have a story to tell you guys,” Richie calls the group’s attention to him. “When I hurt my knee the other day, I found this weird book in the nurse’s cabin.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Ruth perks up. “What kind?”

 

“It had all these stories about camp in it. Like the Axe Man.”  

 

Steph raises an eyebrow. “You mean the Ape-Man? We’ve all heard of that.”

 

“No, the Axe Man ,” Richie clarifies. “Different story. Very similar names, though. Anyways, the story goes that there’s a crazy axe-wielding maniac somewhere out there in the Witchwood Forest.”

 

The campers lean in as Richie reads from the old black book.

 

“ Unsuspecting campers report a distant whistling sound as the first sign. Then, the footsteps. The horrible, heavy crunch of leaves under feet. And then, before can even get a word in, The Axe-Man swoops in, stealing disobedient campers! They remain without a name, without a home, forever- just like him!”

 

The final beat of Richie’s story is accented with Max jumping up behind Grace and screaming, causing her to jump. 

 

“Max, what the fudge?!” Grace exclaims, catching her breath. “ Not cool.”

 

“Totally scared you nerdy prudes!” Max cheers, high-fiving a cackling Richie.

 

The other kids laugh, but Steph also puts a hand on Grace’s back to try and soothe the hyperventilating girl.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Steph asks, voice delightfully soft compared to her icy tone earlier in the day.

 

Grace huffs. She was okay when Max had scared her. But now Steph’s got a hand on her back, rubbing circles, and Grace never wants her to stop. It’s a feeling she could get used to, being cared for by Steph.

 

She shakes herself out of it. Grace can’t risk getting herself into trouble with the Jerrys over something so trivial, something she can try and work hard to get herself out of.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Grace gives Steph a weak smile. “I’m alright. Thank you.”

 

“There’s no way there’s a crazy monster out there,” Pete starts. The other kids stare at him. “It’s probably just a regular guy committing murders and passing it off as an urban legend.”

 

Everyone else murmurs in agreement. Before any more discussion of the monsters or men that might live in Hatchetfield and the surrounding woods can commence, the Jerrys announce their return by appearing over the hill- and any fun the kids had been having dies on the spot.

 

---

 

A few days later, on Saturday afternoon, a few more cars appear on the gravel lot leading up to the main cabin of Camp Idonwannabang. The kids, dressed in their delicate blues and pinks, shuffle awkwardly down the path and spot their various parents and other family members appearing in the distance.

 

Steph and Max visibly stiffen up and make eye contact.

 

Solomon Lauter and Greg Jägerman are engaged in conversation as they walk up the rocky path. They couldn’t look more different, Solomon in a cleanly tailored suit and tie, Greg in a decades-old Hatchetfield High letterman and ripped jeans. 

 

“They must’ve found something to bond over.” Steph says quietly.

 

Max nods. “Yeah, how to ruin our fuckin’ lives.”

By himself on a nearby picnic table, Richie sits and watches a few nighthawks in the distance, pointedly not following the rest of the kids.

 

Ruth makes a face. “You not coming, Richie?”

 

Richie shakes his head. “Got no one to family therapize with. You guys have fun, though.”

 

“God, they got you kids dressed like Sycamore freaks,” Greg Jägerman comments as he approaches the group of kids, fiddling with the tie around his son’s throat. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

 

Everyone else watches as Max follows his dad into the main cabin.

 

Grace watches as Ruth’s mom arrives and immediately scolds her for not brushing her hair- despite the fact that Grace had watched Ruth take a brush to her curls that morning so violently that it nearly brought her to tears. 

 

Rose’s parents arrive and fuss over her, asking her how she’s doing, not caring about the answer, and reminding her how much money they’re paying for her to be fixed.

 

Pete’s dad is distracted, barely paying attention to his son, talking about everything from the drive to a recent football game to something Pete’s brother, Ted, had said over the phone recently. 

 

But mostly, she watches Steph. How her demeanor changed as soon as Solomon Lauter stepped out of his car. He doesn’t speak very much- he just watches his daughter, how she observes the others as if he’s trying to read her mind. It’s almost uncanny, like a facade of a father and daughter that couldn’t be real if they tried.

 

“Gracie!”

 

She’s rocked from her thoughts as her parents appear over the hill, the last pair of parents to arrive. She stands and races to them, catching her mom in a hug. It’s the first time she’s ever done so that it didn’t feel so comforting.

 

But, the Lord said to honor thy mother and father, and Grace must be obedient.

 

“Mama, Daddy,” Grace greets her parents. “I’m happy to see you.”

 

“We’re happy to see you too, Gracie!” Mark beams, pinching Grace’s cheek. “How’s camp been treating you? Getting enough to eat? Sunlight? Sleep?”

 

“Yes, Daddy.” Grace chuckles.

 

Karen pats her daughter’s arm. “That’s great, sweetie. Hopefully, these next few months will fly by and we’ll have you back home, all better, in no time.”

 

Grace ignores the tornado in her stomach as she meets eyes with Steph across the path. 

 

Quiet conversation fills the air until a slam of the main cabin door alerts everyone. 

 

“And don’t even think about coming home unless you’re fixed . You understand me?!” 

 

Greg pulls Max forward by his tie, growling in his face.

 

“Yes, sir.” Max nods.

 

Max hits the cabin wall with a thud as his dad lets him go, storming off down the path to his car. Grace doesn’t miss the way Solomon nods in solemn approval. She wonders how anyone could approve of that- the usually bold and outspoken Max, reduced to a scared mess by his own father. What else was happening when the Jägermans didn’t have an audience? Grace is worried she knows the answer.

 

Max storms down the stairs and back in the direction of the cabins as his dad’s car zooms away from camp, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. The other parents and campers just silently try to return to their inner conversations, except for Richie, who gets up and follows Max off.

 

The Flemings are next. There’s a lot less yelling, but neither Ruth nor Ms. Fleming looks very happy when they exit thirty minutes later. 

 

Then, it’s Grace’s turn. The Jerrys’ office is just as scary as it was the day Grace arrived at camp, but she sits, with her parents on either side of her, and tries to adjust her posture to hide her fear.

 

“So, Karen, Mark, Grace has been progressing perfectly on track here at camp,” Girl Jeri says with a smile. “She’s well on her way to being heterosexual.”

 

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Mark nods. “I can only hope that the progress continues at this rate.”

 

“Grace, would you like to report on what you settled on as your root?” Boy Jerry asks pointedly.

 

Grace gulps. “Uh… sure. You guys know how… How I would play with Alice Woodward a lot as a kid?”

 

“Of course, you two were the best of friends.” Karen smiles.

 

“Well, um. She’s gay now.” 

 

Karen reacts like this is news to her, but Mark seems to have already known. Grace doesn’t have time to unpack that, so she continues on with her explanation.

 

“A lot of the different games we played as kids. House, stuff like that. I guess I just never got over the idea of bein’ able to make a home with another girl. And seein’ Alice with her girlfriend now, it sorta… gave me the wrong idea, I guess.”

 

It’s a lie. Sitting there, looking her parents in the eyes, Grace is incapable of denying that she is lying- the feeling she gets when she sees Alice and Deb, their happiness, the lives they’ve made together out of Hatchetfield is far different from wrong , it’s… it’s almost jealous. Or euphoric . 

 

“Such a shame we lost that one to the world of college,” Girl Jeri laments. “You can only hope that she’ll become a cautionary tale for all the kids of today who want to keep on that straight and narrow.”

 

Grace makes a face. “You saying t- that Alice should… die ?”

 

Girl Jeri shakes her head. “No! No, not at all!”

 

“Well, if that’s what her debauchery leads her to, then maybe,” Boy Jerry cuts in. “But surely no fortune can become her if she continues to live in sin. Remember that, Grace.”

 

“I will,’ Grace nods. She wants out of her so badly. “Have either of you spoken to Jason recently? I miss him a whole lot.”

“We’ll pass the news along, darling.”

 

Grace tries to steady her breathing as the family therapy session passes her by. She answers questions as best she can, but isn’t really conscious the whole time either. It’s when a bell rings signifying the end of their thirty minutes that Grace returns to reality.

 

“I’m so glad you’re improving, pumpkin.” Mark says as the three of them exit the main cabin.

 

Grace watches Steph and Solomon make their way inside. She’s sure the look she gives Steph is pathetic and sad.

 

“Just keep working at it, and we’ll bring you home and celebrate this new chapter of your life.”

 

There’s a part of Grace that still finds comfort in her parents’ presence, clinging to their arms, and wants to do good for them. So, she smiles. “Of course, Mother. I can’t wait.”

 

“We’ll be back in two weeks, sugar.”

 

She gives each of them a hug and a kiss and watches them go. Once she sees her dad’s car disappear down the road, a stinging pressure visibly leaves Grace’s body.

 

“Made it through hell?” Ruth asks, nearly terrifying Grace.

 

“I guess so.” Grace answers, dejectedly.

 

Ruth shrugs. “Wanna play spoons with the boys?” 

 

Pondering, Grace shakes her head. “Nah. I have some… some things to think about.”

 

“Suit yourself.”

 

Grace sits by herself on that same edge of the lake she’d been with Stephanie the day before, an empty pad of paper sitting in front of her. She rips a page off and crumples it up, tossing it into the lake. It floats until it collects too much water and starts to sink below the surface. Grace is sure that if her mind wasn’t swimming so much, she’d be able to make that into a metaphor for her own life.

 

---

 

Her lull continues into the evening, and before she knows it, it’s time for lights out. 

 

Lying in bed, Grace finally puts her head to the pillow and the recent events of her life come flooding to her like a freight train. She tries to cry silently but fails when she hiccups and something soft hits her from Rose’s side of the room.

 

Grace tosses and turns for what feels like hours on end. When she opens her eyes, it’s still dark outside. The wind whistles and the trees that she can see through the window wave to her, as if they have a life all their own, free of strict parents and labels and camps where you have to declare yourself a homosexual.

 

Resolving that she’s not going to be sleeping any time soon, Grace pulls on some slippers and opens the cabin door as quietly as possible, so as to not wake her bunkmates. The large digital clock in front of the staff cabin is pretty far away, but Grace squints and can make out that it’s sometime past three in the morning.

 

The only outdoor lights that are left on are the pathways from the cabins to the bathhouse, most likely to deter any nighttime runaways from getting themselves lost in the Witchwood without any source of light- something that would likely kill them rather than get them away from Camp Idonwannabang.

 

Grace winces her way through using the gross communal toilet and goes to wash her hands when she catches her face in the grimy, cracked mirror. Her eyes are still red-ringed and puffy to an extent, but she had grown tired of crying after a while and they were starting to calm down. 

 

Ignoring the pit in her stomach, Grace finishes washing her hands and pats a wet paper towel along her under eyes, trying to dull the swelling.

 

Slam!

 

The noise comes from outside the bathhouse. Grace is about to make a break for it back to the cabin when she hears-

 

“ Mm- hmph!”

 

An undeniably human groan. If someone was in trouble and she just walked away from them, Grace would forgive herself eventually… but it would take a long time, she thinks. 

 

She takes the concrete steps leading out of the bathhouse one at a time. She can clearly see rustling bushes just slightly off the path where someone or something is struggling. Hesitantly, Grace steps out of the line of lights and further into the woods, where flashes of the blue pajama sets she’d seen the boys in appear.

They’re up against a tree, grabbing at each other, lips connecting heartily.

 

When Grace realizes what exactly is happening, she screams.

 

“Oh my gosh!”

 

The boys who had just been making out break their concentration and turn to Grace in a frenzy.

 

“Shut the fuck up, runt!” Max jeers.

 

“What are-” Grace cries out. “What are you doing?!”

 

Richie frantically turns to where the lights in the staff cabin have just turned on. “Grace, be quiet, please!”

 

“What’s going on out there?” they hear Boy Jerry say.

 

Grace turns and shrieks. “It’s Max! And Richie! They were kissing!”

 

As Boy Jerry approaches, the teenagers can see the red in the counselor’s face. “Lipshitz! Jägerman! My office, now.”

 

The four girls sit on the porch outside the staff cabin while Max and Richie are getting yelled at inside.  Ruth and Steph sit close together, pointedly away from Grace. Rose lies back against a support beam with her eyes closed. Pete stands in front of them, pacing back and forth.

 

“Now, who started this?”

 

Silence. 

 

“If one of you doesn’t own up to this, then both of you will be out on the street!”

 

There’s a little more pleading and fighting. Every kid stands up when the door opens and Boy Jerry comes stomping out, dragging Max by the ear.

 

“Let this be a lesson to all of you,” Boy Jerry sneers. “Leading one another into temptation will not be tolerated. This one just earned himself three days of solitary confinement.”

 

“I know. I heard.” Max snips back.

 

“Don’t be stupid around me, Jägerman! Run your ego up the flagpole, why don’t you?” Boy Jerry says. “And Richard’s just bought himself a one-way ticket out of here.”

 

“Wait, you’re kicking him out?” Grace asks, standing. “How can he learn if you’re just getting rid of him?”

 

“Shoulda thought of that before you narced on him, Chastity-Belt.” Ruth says. 

 

The other kids follow suit, walking back to their dorms and not interacting with Grace. Only Steph gives her a look of utter disappointment- that might be the thing that almost breaks her.

 

The rest of the night is cold. The bell that goes off in the morning and alerts them all to the start of a new day is met with groans from everyone, including Grace, who stares at the ceiling until she hears the shrill voice of Girl Jeri shouting for them.

 

It’s weird. Usually, she’s up at six every morning on the dot and ready for the day. But something about last night…rubbed her the wrong way. As the kids gather for the morning meal, they watch Richie, back in his normal clothes, heading down the gravel path out of camp.

 

“God, I wish that were me.” Rose groans.

 

Pete shakes his head. “I don’t. Richie doesn’t have anywhere to go. I don’t know what he’s going to do.”

 

“I feel that,” Steph speaks up. “My dad told me not to come home unless I was fixed. Just like Max’s.”

 

“They can’t just do that, right?” Grace questions. “Send him packing just to render him homeless?”

 

“Sure they can, he’s eighteen,” Ruth explains. “This is Hatchetfield. Everyone’s constantly in each other’s business, but no one actually does anything when it matters.”

 

Grace frowns at her breakfast. She had never meant to get Richie kicked out. She’d never meant to get anyone in trouble. But, of course, her big mouth got in the way. It’s everything she can do to not start crying again as she realizes just what she’s done.

Notes:

extra long chapter coming in woot woot!

Chapter 5: Perky's Buds

Summary:

The kids go on an extracurricular field trip, sponsored by the friendly farmers up the street.

The next day passes by awkwardly. However, it does pass without issue with the Jerrys, seeing as everyone is on edge following Richie’s expulsion from camp.

 

No one really asks where Max is staying, either. There are a dozen other cabins available on the campgrounds. Still, none of them look particularly well kept, so they can only imagine Max trying to get by in a musty, crumbling cabin without getting some sort of disease. 

 

So, the day passes with little uproar. They watch a movie about moral values and the sanctity of marriage. Afterward, they’re instructed to sit silently for two hours writing an essay on what they learned from it. Grace gets a few pages done. Ruth tears her paper into tiny little pieces and blows them all over the floor. Steph writes a single paragraph.

 

When the afternoon rolls around and the kids are given their free time, Grace finds Steph exactly where she expected her to be, sitting on that bench in front of the lake.

 

Smoothing out her skirt, Grace sits without saying anything.

 

“That was a dick move, you know.”

 

Grace groans. “I panicked, Steph. I know that doesn’t make up for anything, but… I dunno what came over me. I certainly didn’t mean for Richie to get kicked out.”

 

“Maybe you’re just a self-righteous prude at heart,” Steph supposes. “And it’s time to just give up and embrace it.”

 

“But I don’t want to be like that!” Grace exclaims. “And that alone should count for something, right?”

 

Steph looks Grace in the face. “What’s your deal? One second you’re God’s little angel, and then you’re kinda warming up, and then all of a sudden you’re screaming and making folks homeless.”

 

“I don’t want that, though. How do I be normal?”

 

“Depends on what your definition of normal is, Chasity,” Steph stands up. “But I’ll tell you what- this Bible-thumping bullshit is not it.”

 

Grace is left to wonder about that, watching the water on the lake move without a reason as she tries to clear her brain.

 

Before she knows it, it’s Monday afternoon and the kids gather for lunch. Pete, Grace, Rose, and Steph sit at the outdoor dining table with no issue, but they all kind of give each other looks when the last person sits down at the table. She’s dressed exactly like the girls but is unrecognizable otherwise.

 

“Excuse me… who are you?” Steph leans forward.

 

The girl frowns. “Are you joking with me, Steph? If so, I don’t appreciate it.”

 

Pete slaps the table. “Oh my god, Ruth?”

 

“Yeah!” The girl, evidently Ruth, says.

 

Rose makes a face. “What the hell happened to you?”

 

Her hair’s been straightened, her headgear is gone, and she’s wearing more makeup than Grace ever thinks she’s seen on a person. It’s seriously disturbing.

 

“Girl Jeri decided I needed it,” Ruth laments. “She said the hair was ‘unbecoming’ of a proper woman.”

 

“And your headgear?” Pete asks.

 

Ruth procures the red and silver thing from her bag. “Like I said, I don’t actually need it. So she made me take it off.”

 

“Do you… like it?” Grace asks tentatively.

 

Ruth fusses with her hair, which now falls far past her shoulders, and thinks about it. “I dunno. It feels kinda weird. But my mom would like it.”

 

“Who gives a fuck about your mom?” Steph reiterates. “What do you think?”

 

They watch as Ruth pats her face. “I don’t like the makeup. It’s weird and tacky.”

 

“And also way too light for your skin tone,” Rose points, where there’s a clear line between the olive tones of Ruth’s neck and the pale foundation on her face. “We’ll take it off later. Don’t worry.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Conversation lulls. The day passes largely like it had the day before, without much issue- that is, until lights out.

 

Grace pads over to the girls’ washroom to get ready for bed. The wind still whistles through the trees, just like before, but Grace can’t help but feel like something is off. 

 

When she enters the bathhouse, she finds the other three girls standing in front of the cracked, dirty mirrors. All three dressed in street clothes, Steph is putting on dark lipstick, Rose is applying a design of crooked white lines under her usual thick black liner, and Ruth is adjusting a clip in her hair (which is still straight, but at least it’s messy). 

 

They see Grace enter, and Rose groans. “You gonna narc on us too? At least let it be after we get back.”

 

“What- where are you guys going?” Grace asks.

 

“Out,” Steph says plainly. After a moment, she smiles at Grace. “Wanna come with?”

 

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

 

“Only if we get caught!” Ruth chirps.

 

Steph shrugs. “And we won’t get caught if no one tells. Right, Grace?”

 

Slowly, Grace nods. She understands what Steph is offering- a chance for her to redeem herself. To prove that she’s not the girl everyone thinks her to be.

 

“I’ll have to grab some clothes from the cabin real quick.”

 

“That’s the spirit, Chasity!”

 

---

 

In less than thirty minutes, Grace finds herself in a sweet purple ensemble, sneaking down the camp path with the other four- if only her parents could see her now, she wonders.

 

Just out of sight of the camp entrance is a beat-up red pickup truck with a logo on the side. As they get closer, Grace realizes that it read’s “Perky’s Buds”. A tall figure in a Grateful Dead shirt waits for them next to the truck.

 

“Hop in, chiclets.” The silver-haired person says smoothly. 

 

“We’re going to ride in the bed of the truck?” Pete questions as Rose and Steph jump in without question.

 

“Isn’t that extremely dangerous?” Grace follows up.

 

“Only if Emma gets road rage, which she won’t , right, Perky?” they say, helping Ruth climb in. The person in the driver’s seat, presumably Emma, flips them the bird.

 

“Well… we can’t turn back now , right?” Pete suggests, climbing in.

 

Grace thinks yes, they absolutely could turn back… but it’s not like she wants to, either. So, she takes the stranger’s hand and climbs into the back of the truck, situating herself in between Ruth and Steph.

 

“I know you,” Grace says. “You threw that paper airplane at us last week.”

 

“Indeed I did. The name’s Ziggs,” the stranger nods, hopping into the truck. “And that paper airplane was an invitation to freedom.”

 

“You kids comfortable?” the guy in the passenger seat calls back. “We have blankets up here if you need them.”

 

“No thank you!” Steph calls, smiling. 

 

Pete wraps his arms around his knees and pulls them up to his chest. “So, what’s your guys’ whole deal? All I know is that Steph grabbed me at dinner and told me to be ready by lights out.”

 

“Emma Perkins,” Emma calls from the driver’s seat. “This here is my husband, Paul.”

 

Paul gives the kids a small wave. “Paul. Matthews. Hi. We’re… survivors, you could say. Of Camp Idonwannabang.”

 

Ruth’s eyes go wide. “You are? ”

 

“Yeah, those fuckin’ idiots keep ignoring that bisexual people exist and it’s honestly really funny at this point.” Emma guffaws.

 

“Fuckin’ thank you!” Pete exclaims. 

 

“But yeah, we kind of help the people who decide that the lifestyles promoted by that camp are just… aren’t for them, ya know?” Paul says. 

 

“It all started when this one showed up at my house a few years ago.” Emma points at Ziggs.

 

Ziggs scoffs as Paul pokes at them through the little back windshield window, brushing him off. “Yeah, yeah. Mom and Dad. Whatever.” they say sarcastically.

 

“I own the farm up the street,” Emma explains. “Perky’s Buds.” 

 

“Oh my God!” Steph exclaims. “The weed farm! My dad buys from you guys sometimes.”

 

The others sort of gawk at Steph a little bit for just blurting that out. It takes a second for her to remember that her dad’s literally the mayor. 

 

“What? I don’t give a shit what y’all know about him.”

 

“Alright, let’s get this freakshow on the road.” Paul quips.

 

Emma gets her foot on the gas and the truck heads down the road at a reasonable pace for having six people in the truck bed.

 

Grace lets the wind whip in her hair as the truck drives on, the Witchwood becoming a blur in her peripheral vision. The others make quiet conversation, Ziggs explaining how they’d been in the same position just a few years ago, and Grace comes to the quiet realization that this was one of Alice’s old friends. At the risk of her old life seeping into her new one, she keeps her mouth shut about that aspect. 

 

She inspects everyone’s attire. It’s the first time she’s seen any of them in their regular clothes, even if they were more amped up for the outing. Pete looks cozy in his sweater. He’s just as out of place as Grace, in her floral skirt that just screams “church girl”, no matter how far above the knee it falls. Ruth isn’t much better, in her striped sweater and bright red pants. As she expected, only Steph and Rose really look the part, with Rose in a busted denim jacket, and Steph…

 

Wow , Steph. Grace has to take extra care not to stare, because Steph is decked out in black and green, a confidence oozing from her that wasn’t quite as apparent in the frumpy pink dresses they had to wear at camp.

 

Before Grace knows it, the truck is pulling into the parking lot of an out of the way pub called The Birdhouse, and Ziggs has to yell that no one gets out until Emma is fully parked. 

 

Once she’s parked, of course, the kids practically race to follow Ziggs inside, thanking Paul and Emma as they take a few seconds longer.

 

The bar is dark and loud, so much so that it makes Pete freeze upon entering. 

 

“I don’t do great with loud music.” he admits.

 

Rose gives the others a peace sign. “I’ve got a phone call to make.”

 

She gives no explanation as she immediately disappears into the crowd. Steph is quick to join her, dancing with people she doesn’t know and letting herself go for the first time in weeks.

 

“We’re out of our elements, aren’t we?” Grace posits to Pete and Ruth.

 

“Speak for yourself!” Ruth cheers. “I think I might be in my element for the first time in my life!”

 

With Ruth immediately joining a group of muscular guys on the dance floor, Pete and Grace remain the only two unmoved.

 

“You know what?” Pete asks. “There’s a solution to this. The awkwardness.”

 

Grace cocks her head. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

 

“Liquid courage.”

 

Pete lifts a Michigan driver’s license in the air, which Grace grabs to inspect. It’s clearly not Pete, but there’s a vague similarity that Grace can’t deny.

 

“Is this your brother?” Grace asks. 

 

“Yep,” Pete answers, taking the card back. “It’s his fake from high school. Stole it out of his sock drawer when he was moving out.”

 

Grace follows Pete to the bar and watches him order two drinks. It takes him actually taking a bottle and handing it to her for Grace to realize that he intends for her to drink as well.

 

“Oh, no, I can’t-” Grace insists. “This is bad.”

 

“Just think of it as communion wine,” Pete insists, taking a sip of his own bottle and frowning. “Ugh. That is not good.”

 

It takes a long time for Grace to think of why she should drink this. It’s not like she has to, right? Would it count as succumbing to peer pressure if she drank it? 

 

Even if she really wanted to?

 

Truthfully, this bottle of beer represents everything that Grace has been teetering on for her entire eighteen years of life, the balance between keeping good in God’s eyes and the sin she’s been secretly living in, and-

 

Oh, what the heck. She brings the bottle to her lips. She takes a sip. And then she furrows her brow.

 

“Rebel Chasity,” Pete laughs. “Whaddya think?”

 

“This is…fine.”

 

“Really?”

 

Grace nods. “Really, it’s not that bad. It’s not that bad, Pete!”

 

“...Good for you?” Pete smiles crookedly.

 

She drinks more. It’s not that bad, really. In fact, Grace kind of likes it. She likes the feeling it gives her and she likes the feeling of having the bottle in her hands. And she likes the feeling of her skirt swishing around, the hem too high on her thighs to be godly, and the girls who look at her arms in her tank top- she’d brought a sweater, but accidentally left it in the truck. At least, she thinks it was an accident.

 

There’s a few minutes of people-watching that Grace and Pete accidentally engage in when Steph dances up to them, not even asking before stealing a sip from Grace’s drink and then Pete’s. 

 

“Why are you nerdy prudes stuck on the sidelines?” Steph asks. “Ruth is tearing it up.”

 

The two look past Steph, where, indeed, Ruth has found herself in the middle of a group of cheering drunk people. She’s crushing it- if the patrons of the bar could hear themselves think, they’d probably be cheering her name.

 

Just as the question lingers in the air, the song changes and switches to something slower and hotter. Couples grab each other longingly, using the song as an excuse to paw at each other in public. Ruth finds herself spun around by Rose, who takes her into a hilariously proper waltz.

 

Steph’s hand is still extended for either Pete or Grace to take.

 

Grace considers it. It’s like there’s an angel and a demon on her shoulders. One is telling her to take the offer and get close to Steph, feel everything she’s never allowed herself to feel. The other is telling her to stay back, that it’s a sin to even be here, and she might as well save herself the embarrassment of trying to dance with Stephanie Lauter. She just wishes she knows which one was which.

 

Hesitantly, she shakes her head. “Sorry. Not right now.”

 

Steph pouts. Her hand wavers, as if she really did want Grace to be the one to take her offer. But, not letting it shake her, she takes Pete’s hand instead, dragging him out to the floor to a few noises of protest. 

 

Grace sits up on a stool and tries to smooth her skirt down again, watching the scene play out in front of her. Steph hangs her head on Pete’s shoulder, gripping him closely, but looking Grace in the eyes dreamily. Pete hesitantly places his hands on Steph’s waist. 

 

Grace grips her bottle tighter.

 

The feeling rising in her chest, heating up her entire body- it’s something she’s felt before, not dissimilar to the tingle she felt watching Brenda and Stacey cheer, or reading those Virginia Woolf books. 

 

The feeling doesn’t go away, it just burns even more. Grace watches the two dance, much more innocently than everyone else on the floor, and still… it feels like it’s ruining her life. 

 

Suddenly, the simmering feeling becomes an overpowering wave of emotion. It stops being a matter of whether or not she can continue watching this- she just needs to leave.

 

Stumbling out into the alley behind the bar, Grace breathes for the first time. It wasn’t even from drunkenness, as she’d only had half a drink, but something inside her wishes it was. Because the alternative, the truth , was much harder to face.

 

She was jealous .

 

Grace was jealous of Pete and Steph dancing together, glowy light washing over them and mind-numbingly loud music separating them from the rest of the world. Grace can’t help but think that she’s the one who should be out there, getting close, dancing, and she was just too much of a coward to do so. 

 

Pacing back and forth, Grace’s senses slowly come back to her. Who does she think she is? Wearing short skirts, drinking alcohol… that isn’t her! She’s Grace Chasity, the biggest prude in Hatchetfield, and she’s already ruined herself in the eyes of the Lord.

 

But she’s even more worried that she’s ruined herself in the eyes of Stephanie Lauter.

 

“Grace?”

 

Speak of the devil.

 

Assuring herself that she’s going to confront Steph, Grace turns around and opens her mouth to say everything that’s on her mind.

 

Instead, she meets Steph’s eyes. They’re filled with concern, and anger, and confusion, just like Grace’s probably are.

 

And Grace bursts into tears. 

 

“Grace, what’s-”

 

“This is your fault!” Grace exclaims. “Dancing with Pete like that.”

 

“You wouldn’t dance with me!” Steph retorts.

 

“That doesn’t mean you had to dance with him!”

 

Steph scoffs. “What’s this really about, Grace? What’s wrong with you?”

 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?!” Grace says. “I was normal. Everything was fine. All I ever wanted was to be a normal teenage girl, with no sexual desire until she was safely married! And then I ended up here, and you ruined that for me.”

 

Steph folds her arms. “Curious. Tell me, how the hell did I ruin that for you?”

 

“I know that what I feel is wrong,” Grace insists through snotty tears. “What I feel about you . But I feel it anyway. And- and why can’t God just take the feelings away !”

 

“Because they’re not wrong, Grace!” Steph bites back. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! This ‘straight is great’ crap is nothing but lies! And I think you know it is.”

 

Grace sniffles. “I- but- my parents-”

 

“Are lying to themselves. And you. But you’re eighteen, Grace. Don’t you think it’s time you started making decisions for yourself?” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, if you think it’s wrong to kiss girls,” Steph’s voice softens, and she gets closer to Grace. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

 

Grace searches Steph’s face. Everything she’s ever needed lives behind those eyes. In a moment of reckless abandon, the two close the distance and let their lips meet in a surging, wanting kiss.

 

Ignoring the tears still streaming down her cheeks, Grace cups a hand around Steph’s face as Steph’s hands find purchase around Grace’s waist.

 

It’s like a vault opens. Like a curtain in Grace’s heart is pulled away and the sun is finally shining again. Everything she’s been spoonfed since she was a child dies in that moment where she’s kissing Steph, and she knows it’s right.

 

And then, the need to breathe creeps in. The two separate, Grace putting a hand to her lips that still tingle with the taste of Steph, realizing what she’s just done. She leans against the brick wall of the bar, letting out a sigh, staring up at the moon.

 

Steph joins her, breathing softly. “...So?”

 

It’s strange. Just a second ago, the world made perfect sense to Grace, her conflict was over. And now that she’s not kissing Steph anymore, it’s all sinking back in. She’s just done the exact thing that she was sent to camp to not do, gone back on all her progress, proven what everybody else already thought about her- she’s a lesbian.

 

But suddenly, that word doesn’t sound quite so dirty. It feels different.

 

And Grace doesn’t want to unpack all of that. She wants to kiss Steph again. 

 

“I want to do that again.”

 

Steph laughs and obliges, trapping Grace against the wall and kissing her, again and again, letting Grace thread a hand through her hair, just lingering in the feeling of having Grace’s lips against hers.

 

Grace’s stomach starts to turn. She feels herself floating higher and higher every time she kisses Steph, and soon she’ll be able to fly away from the tiny town of Hatchetfield and spend eternity kissing Steph, the only thing she wants to do forever and ever. 

 

---

 

They don’t know how long they spend out there, exploring each other. Steph wants to touch and feel and learn, and so does Grace, but they keep their hands above the waist to begin with- baby steps, Grace supposes.

 

Unfortunately, all perfect things must come to an end, and Grace and Steph are startled out of their euphoria when the back door of the club slams open, Rose appearing on the other side. 

 

“Oh- sorry- uh-” Rose stutters. “Um, congrats, I guess. We gotta get back.”

 

“Right,” Steph backs up and lets Grace settle herself. “We should do that.”

 

Grace follows, but her hand sneaks into Steph’s as the two make their way back across the bar and into the parking lot.

 

Pete has a dizzy Ruth leaning on his shoulder, already seated in the back of the truck bed. Paul and Emma appear from somewhere, also holding hands and slightly disheveled, and hop back into the front seats.

“Ziggs! Head count!” Emma calls.

 

Ziggs counts the five kids and hops into the truck, whistling when they see Grace. “You, uh… you got a little something.”

 

Grace looks in the window and sees that her face is positively covered in Steph’s lipstick. She haphazardly wipes it off with her hand, but pauses to smile a little bit as she catches Pete and Steph fist-bumping in the background of the window’s reflection.

 

“That’s everyone, Em!” Ziggs calls. “Let’s get back to Hell.”

 

The ride back to camp is mostly silent. Grace smiles up at Steph, who wraps an arm around the shorter girl.

 

“New development?” Ziggs asks.

 

Steph nods. Grace smiles.

 

When the truck pulls back into its hiding spot on the outskirts of camp, the kids quickly scramble to get out and start racing back to the cabins, but not before thanking Emma, Paul, and Ziggs profusely.

 

“Go! Before you get hell from the Jerrys!” Emma insists, shooing the kids off. 

 

They oblige, minimizing their noise as they run back up the gravel path and race to the bunks. Pete silently bids the girls goodnight and disappears into the boys’ cabin.

 

The girls let the giggles come loose once the door to their cabin is shut, getting changed as quickly as they can so they can at least get some sleep before they have to go back to the real world tomorrow.

 

“Everybody ready?” Steph asks, standing at the light switch. Everyone is still wearing whatever makeup they’d had on that night, and their club clothes were simply shoved underneath their beds rather than neatly packed like Jeri liked them, but they look like something approximating perfect campers at the very least.

 

Three whispered cheers of “ready!” cue Steph to turn out the lights.

 

Grace pulls the covers over her, smiling when she sees Steph coming over to press a kiss to her temple before diving into her own bed.

 

And for the first time since arriving at Camp Idonwannabang, Grace falls asleep without crying.

Notes:

this chapter was about entirely other things but i just had to pepper in some of my curly girl trauma onto ruth lmfao

anyways… LESBIANS!!!!!! also paulkins so true

Chapter 6: Demystifying the Opposite Sex

Summary:

After a daring escape from camp, Grace formulates a plan to fool the Jerrys. A looming final exam has the kids on their best... or worst behavior.

On Wednesday morning, Max returns from wherever the counselors had been keeping him.

 

He eyes the rest of the teens as he slides down into a seat during breakfast. “What the hell happened to you guys?”

 

The others exchange looks. As far as they can tell, there’s really nothing that should clue anyone in to their whereabouts the other night. Ruth even showered (for once) to make her hair curly again.

 

“What happened to you ?” Pete throws the question back at him.

 

Max frowns. “I’m fuckin’ fine, fart-hole. But something is weird with you guys.”

 

“Nothing’s weird with us, Max,” Ruth insists. “You’ve just had a weird couple days.”

 

“Yeah, but you guys are, like,” Max gesticulates wildly. “All over the place today.”

 

“We’re literally not.” Steph shoots back.

 

“Are you feeling alright, Max?” Grace asks. “Was there asbestos in the solitary cabin or something?”

 

She’s being genuine, but the others laugh and Grace can only assume that what she’s said has been interpreted as a joke. 

 

The kids try to let the conversation simmer, but they’re quickly cut off by-

 

Honk honk!

 

A dirty black van appears at the end of the gravel path leading out of camp. The momentary confusion of the kids turns to adrenaline when Rose jumps up from her seat and retrieves a sling bag from the perfectly trimmed bushes in front of the mess hall.

 

She turns back to the others sitting at the dining table and gives them a peace sign. “See you nerdy prudes later!”

 

Max bellows in laughter. Ruth flaps her hands excitedly. Pete shouts “Run, Rose! Run!”

 

The Jerrys race out of the mess hall, but Rose is already halfway down the road.

 

“Rose! You come back here right this second!” Boy Jerry screams.

 

The van door slides open. A guy with long, dirty hair catches Rose’s bag when she tosses it and helps them leap into the car.

 

The mess of pink hair in the front seat slams his foot on the gas, leaving a billowing cloud of smoke in the distance, as Rose leaves Camp Idonwannabang behind them.

 

The rest of the kids sit in stunned silence. That is, until Max leans forward and whispers “Fucking metal.” Under his breath.

 

“So that’s what she was talking about.”

 

Four heads turn in Ruth’s direction.

 

“What do you mean?” Grace asks.

 

“At the Birdhouse,” Ruth explains. “Rose was on the phone for a long time. I guess she was talking to her bandmates.”

 

“The Birdhouse?! ”

 

Everyone looks at the Jerrys, who have turned their attention to the campers that remain. 

 

“So that ’s where you all disappeared off to,” Boy Jerry says, folding his arms. “Unfortunately, you all realize that those actions will have consequences, of course.”

 

“We didn’t do anything!” Ruth immediately shouts.

“Really?” Girl Jeri leans in. “Because the evidence says otherwise. It was those no good drug-peddling heathens down the street, wasn’t it?!”

The kids protest, but the Jerrys hear none of it.

 

“Meal time is over!” Boy Jerry snaps, stamping a foot on the ground like a toddler. “We’re going on a field trip.”

 

“We’ve barely even eaten-“ Steph starts.

 

“Did you lose your ears, Stephanie?!” Girl Jeri says.

 

Boy Jerry starts whisking their trays away, starting with Pete’s. Grace instinctively grabs the unopened peanut butter cups off of her own and Rose’s trays, tucking them out of sight just as Jerry snatches her tray.

 

Before long, the kids are marching up to a dingy bus, and if the squeak of Boy Jerry opening the door and the smell that hits the kids once he does are anything to go by, it hasn’t been used in years.

 

Still, they file in one by one and sit separately, as they’re being closely watched and don’t feel like causing any more trouble that day. 

 

Steph and Grace look at each other from across the aisle. Steph’s hair is sticking to her face and she’s sweating through her soft pink shirt, and Grace thinks that she’s never seen anyone more beautiful. 

 

Grace has never been particularly good at sneaking around. In fact, she’s never done it before in her life. Now, she’s spent the last two days stealing kisses from Steph when they’re the last to go somewhere or just before the lights go out. 

 

It makes her giddy, like a kid on Christmas morning- knowing that she has someone like Steph, and that no one else can know. Other than the other kids, ‘cause Ruth and Rose are still confined to the same cabin as them. Or, just Ruth now, Grace supposes.

 

Rose had really made it out, hadn’t she? As the bus groans into gear and heads down the gravel path, Grace can’t help but think about how close they all would be to freedom if they just had someone to meet them on the other side.

 

---

 

About fifteen minutes pass, and the bus is lurching up the driveway of a fenced, well-groomed farm. A big sign above the entrance reads “Perky’s Buds”. Grace looks out the window at the rows and rows of green, neatly organized and labeled. 

 

“Let’s go! Everyone! Now!” Boy Jerry snipes.

 

The kids file out of the bus and onto the driveway, with signs that the Jerrys had stuffed into their hands decorated with phrases like “Say No to Purple!” and “No Mo’ Homo!” and other things that don’t really make that much sense.

 

“ Hey! Ho! Heck no! Perky’s Buds has got to go!

Hey! Ho! Heck no! Perky’s Buds has got to go!”

 

The kids chant with a fake enthusiasm that doesn’t go very far, but it at least seems to fool the Jerrys. 

 

The creaking of a tractor calls their attention, and the group’s heads collectively turn to see Ziggs coming over a nearby hill and approaching rapidly.

 

They stop in a spot just near the house and hop off the tractor. “This is so rich. What a lovely little bunch of hypocrites.”

 

“We won’t succumb to your tempting ways!” Girl Jeri shouts.

 

“Okay. Fine.”

 

Without another word, Ziggs heads into the farmhouse, completely unbothered.

 

Well, that doesn’t please the Jerrys. They start shouting even louder. Grace jumps, but joins up again just like the others. 

 

“ Hey! Ho! Heck no! Perky’s Buds has got to go!

Hey! Ho! Heck no! Perky’s Buds has got to go!”

 

The door opens and a different angry figure comes storming out onto the lawn, arms crossed. It’s Paul, tapping his foot expectantly.

 

“Listen up, campers. This is private property. You guys better scram before things get ugly.”

 

“You wanna tussle with us? We’re not going anywhere!” Boy Jerry shouts back.

 

“No, I don’t want to tussle, ” Paul says. “I want you to leave my house. Immediately.”

 

“We have every right to be here as long as you come trespassing onto our property.” Girl Jeri asserts.

 

Paul scoffs. “As a matter of fact, Emma and I haven’t set foot on your property since we left all those years ago. And we’d never step foot there again.”

 

It was true. The Perky’s truck was all the way down the camp driveway on Monday night, on the public road. Grace doesn’t know quite where the camp property ends in the woods, but she doesn’t even really know if Ziggs had been on it when they’d thrown that paper airplane at Ruth.

 

Slam!

 

The next person to exit the building is Emma, who stands next to her husband and menacingly cocks the massive shotgun in her hands.

 

The campers scramble, heading back towards the bus.

 

“It’s never gonna happen, Jerrys!” Emma shouts. “All you’re doing is prolonging the inevitable.”

 

“We’re saving lives,” Girl Jeri insists. “Something you’d know nothing about, Perkins. Visit your sister lately?”

 

“Oh, can it, bitch!” Emma starts for Girl Jeri, shouting expletives.

 

Ruth, Steph, and Max press their faces to the bus windows, sure they’re about to see a fight go down. Instead, Paul grabs Emma around the waist and picks her up, kicking and screaming, insisting that it’s not worth it.

 

The Jerrys are too preoccupied with getting away from the farm that they don’t notice Steph and Grace sitting next to each other, linking hands underneath the ruffles of their skirts.

 

“That was a fun thirty minutes.” Steph says, voice low.

 

Grace laughs. “At least we got out of camp for that thirty minutes.”

 

“Almost as good as the club, right?”

 

Once Boy Jerry is driving entirely too fast for a bus this old down the road back to camp, Girl Jeri takes a deep breath and observes the kids, making sure she counts five. Her eyes land on Grace and Steph laughing, their faces close together, and snaps.

 

“Girls! Separate!”

 

Grace reluctantly goes to slide into the seat across the aisle from Steph, but trips as the bus bumps and falls back onto Steph. Girl Jeri fumes.

 

“Sorry! Sorry,” Grace scrambles across the aisle, for real this time. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

 

Girl Jeri sits down. Grace shoots Steph a smile and a wink.

 

---

 

“I have an idea,” Grace whispers as she and Steph walk into the rec hall for the next morning’s group therapy. “You might not like it, though.”

 

“Does it involve getting the Jerrys off our asses?”

 

Grace nods.

 

“Then I’m all for it.” Steph affirms.

 

Grace continues to whisper her plan to Steph as the other kids file in, sitting in a row of chairs in front of a TV screen that Girl Jeri is fiddling with.

 

When they reach the chairs, Steph and Grace split and sit on opposite sides of the line- Steph plops down next to Pete and whispers something in his ear. He nods. Grace does the same to Max, who smiles and gives her a thumbs up.

 

Grace, definitely not imagining she’s in front of Steph, makes a big deal out of her eyes flitting between Max’s eyes and lips.

 

“I always knew you had a thing for me, Chasity,” Max says loudly for the Jerrys to hear, throwing an arm around her.

 

Grace leans in close to whisper. “Thanks.”

 

“Not a problem.” Max replies. The two smile, but can’t help but burst into a little bit of laughter. 

 

They look down the aisle, where Pete and Steph have started themselves on something similar, awkwardly exchanging quiet words. In the middle of the two pairs sits Ruth, alone, looking between them with a bizarre look on her face.

 

“...What happened here?”

 

“What happened here, indeed?” Boy Jerry echoes, observing the change. “New development?”

 

Grace shrugs. “I just realized while we were apart… how much I missed Max. And…how much I wanted to be around him.”

 

“And when we were at…that place, we were dancing and I couldn’t even care about all those sinners, I-” Steph fakes choking up, a hand over her heart. “I just wanted to dance with Pete.”

 

That stings. Yes, this was Grace’s plan, but it still hurts to hear Steph use something real like that. She knows Steph doesn’t actually like Pete that way, but the jealousy that had roamed free in her body that night at the Birdhouse threatens to come rushing back as she hears Steph talk about Pete again.

 

Pete has to try his best not to burst into laughter. Instead, he just nods. “Mm-hm.”

 

“What the hell is in the water today?!” Ruth interjects. “Just last night, you two were-”

 

“It’s an act of God!” Girl Jeri exclaims, rushing to them. “This is the young love that leads to a good Christian marriage.”

 

“We’ll do what we can to help you navigate these feelings appropriately,” Boy Jerry adds, eyes narrowing. “Ruth, you could stand to learn from this outstanding progress.”

 

Ruth tosses her hands up in the air. “Well, if there was another man for me to throw myself all over, I definitely would! But you guys nicked Richie, if you’ll recall.”

 

“I don’t wanna hear that attitude, Fleming!” Boy Jerry snipes. He furrows his brow and addresses the whole group. “Now, I see that despite our little incident a few days ago, the hard work we’ve been doing here is finally starting to pay off. Throughout the next few days, we’ll be observing the way the five of you progress in activities and therapy. Those of you who receive high enough marks will progress to the final exam, and then, graduation!”

 

There’s not much of a response. The Jerrys turn on a movie about traditional marriage lifestyles, and Grace curls up onto Max’s shoulder. Sure, she wishes it was Steph, but Max whispers some pretty funny commentary while they’re watching so she’s not entirely complaining.

 

The girls watch the next day as Pete and Max reattempt their wood-chopping challenge. Grace and Steph cheer in inhumanly high pitches, clapping their hands and fawning over the boys’ strength. Ruth rolls her eyes at the elaborate showing.

 

“You guys are so freakin’ charming.” Ruth sneers.

 

“Try it, Ruth,” Steph says. “It’ll keep the Jerrys satiated.”

 

“Who gives a crap about that?!” Ruth exclaims. “It’s easy for you guys when you’re canoodling all over each other in secret. I couldn’t even get any of those desperate bros at the club to look my way the other night…”

 

Steph and Grace share a look. Grace looks at the shorter girl, sympathy in her eyes. “Sorry, Ruth. We’re just trying to get outta here.”

 

Ruth shrugs. “Yeah, I know.”

 

The wood-chopping goes about as expected. Max gets his in two swings, Pete in three. Grace thinks about Richie; Max had told her about Richie slicing his knee, and the moment they’d shared in the nurse’s cabin. She hopes he’s doing alright.

 

“Woohoo! Go boys!” She shouts, cutting off her own thoughts.

 

The roles reverse as the boys watch the girls try to change the diapers on the baby dolls again. 

 

Max is pretty good at making himself look interested while staring off into space- it’s how he gets through all his classes. So it’s pretty easy for him to make it look like he cares about Grace changing a diaper. Pete watches Steph as well, but he’s more interested in the mechanics of the doll than he is about watching her perform her “womanly duties” or whatever Boy Jerry had said.

 

Grace does the best. Steph manages. They both wince as Ruth manages to explode purple ink in her face for the second time in a row at camp. 

 

“Oh, no,” Grace rushes over to the sink. “Hold still, Ruth, just for a second.”

 

“Don’t bother!”

 

Just as she’s about to turn on the faucet, Grace pauses. Steph too. Everyone in the room looks as Ruth simply pulls her headgear off and uses her hands to start clearing ink out of her face.

 

“I’ll do it myself.”

 

Ruth stomps off, leaving everyone else to wonder what was going on, for Grace and Steph to silently wish they could follow her, and for Girl Jeri to disappointedly take to writing on her clipboard.

 

That night, Grace and Steph stand in the bathroom together, fixing their hair after brushing their teeth. Grace watches Steph fiddle with her pink nightgown.

 

Steph catches her staring. “Something of mine interest you?”

 

“I dunno,” Grace wonders. She forces herself to turn away from the girl and back to her own reflection in the mirror. “Everything’s been weird lately.”

 

“Yeah, no shit. We’re at a monochromatic nightmare heterosexual camp.” Steph laughs. 

 

Grace laughs too. “Well, yeah, of course, but… I mean weird for camp. I guess it’s just that we’re getting closer to the end.”

 

“What are you gonna do when you go back home?”

 

“...What are you gonna do?”

 

Steph snaps her fingers. “I’ve thought about this. Pete’s always talking about taking off with his brother as soon as he turns eighteen, right? Why can’t I do the same thing?”

 

“Because you need a- a place to live, a steady source of income- have you ever worked a job before, Stephie?” Grace asks.

 

“Ah, shit,” Steph frowns. “I haven’t.”

 

Grace giggles. “You are blissfully unaware of the struggles of normal people, Miss Mayor’s Daughter.”

 

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Chastity,” Steph sneaks a hand around Grace’s waist. “In what world are you normal?”

 

“Am I supposed to take offense to that?” 

 

“Not unless you want to, babe.”

 

Grace rolls her eyes at the pet name, but lets Steph kiss her anyway.

 

Knock knock knock!

 

“Are you guys done fornicating in there or am I gonna have to shower in the boys’ room?”

 

Grace resists the urge to roll her eyes. The two girls separate and gather their toiletries, letting Ruth into the bathroom and heading back towards the girls’ cabin.

 

“She’s…” Steph starts, worriedly, but doesn’t finish her sentence.

 

“I don’t know,” Grace laments. “If there was a way to include her in the plan, I’d have done it. I didn’t mean for her to feel left out.”

 

“I know you didn’t, babe.”

 

The last evaluation day comes, and the kids sit around the unlit campfire, waiting for the Jerrys to arrive.

 

The urge to explode right then and there grows stronger as the infamous pink and blue figures appear over the hill. Grace squeezes Max and Steph’s hands.

 

“Let’s hope we pulled this off.”

 

“I think we did,” Pete says. “I hope we did.”

 

“Well, I have good news,” Girl Jeri beams as they make it to the kids. “This group is so determined. We will have four people moving on to the final stage of the program!”

 

“Four?”

 

“Peter, Stephanie, Maxwell, and Grace.” Boy Jerry follows up.

 

All eyes turn on Ruth. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Ruth,” Girl Jeri puts on her best sad frown. “But you just haven’t retained the material well enough to graduate. You’ll have to pack your bags and go home. We invite you to come back through the program in six months.”

 

“Go home?!” Ruth spits. “I can’t go home! I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked. Where am I supposed to go?”

 

“I’m afraid we can’t help you with that, Ruth,” Boy Jerry comes to his co-counselor’s defense. “But you can’t stay here.”

 

Ruth looks like she might hit one of the Jerrys. Instead, she turns to her fellow campers. 

 

“I hope you guys got what you wanted.”

 

Pete starts to stand up. “Ruth, we didn’t-”

 

“Shut up! You guys are all liars .” Ruth continues. “Your stupid hand holding and whispering might’ve fooled these idiots, but not me. Congrats, you succeeded in hiding the best part of yourselves. I’m outta here.”

 

Ruth shakes her head. While there’s anger behind her eyes, there’s also a clear sense of disappointment. In everyone else. For leaving her out, for committing themselves to this fake identity, for whatever reason. 

 

And she leaves.

 

In the dust of Ruth Fleming’s exit from Camp Idonwannabang, the four remaining campers stare off into nothingness, having to reconcile themselves with the harsh words she’d left them with. And how unfortunately true they were.

 

“Well,” Boy Jerry claps his hands together. “How about supper?”

 

---

 

The night arrives, and Steph and Grace make their way back to the pink bunk as they always do, following the motions. The day’s events had been intense, just like it was when Richie and Rose had left. 

 

Grace had let her mind wander on the way to supper. About Ruth, and how their plan to get out of camp alive really did mean lying. She didn’t like lying. She doesn’t like holding Max’s hand when they both know there’s someone else they’re imagining they’re with. But now, she robotically sets her toiletries down and slides into bed like she always does, waiting for Steph to turn out the lights. 

 

However, it seems like she has different ideas.

 

Steph sits on her bed precariously, kicking her feet. “You know, we’re the only two girls left in the cabin.”

 

“...What’s that mean?” Grace asks innocently.

 

“It means we could stand to be a little closer, I think,” Steph continues. “And my bed is awfully spacious.”

 

“Stephanie Lauter,” Grace sits up. “Are you suggesting that we consolidate down to one bed?”

 

Steph shrugs. “It means less laundry for Girl Jeri to do.”

 

It takes a second. After everything that's happened that day. But- Grace can’t argue with that logic.

 

Grace hops out of her bed, haphazardly making it back up and skipping past the bed that used to be Ruth’s and into Steph’s; but not before shutting off the main light in the room, leaving Steph’s face to only be illuminated by the night lights outside.

 

She sits next to the other girl and smooths out her nightgown. “Any plans for what we will do next?”

 

“I had a couple ideas.”

 

Steph puts a hand on Grace’s face, pushing her hair behind her ear. Grace skips the theatrics and gets right to what she assumed was going to be happening here, kissing Steph so hard the latter’s head thumps against the headboard.

 

“Oh no!” Grace pulls back. “Are you okay?!”

 

Steph laughs. “I’m fine, Chasity, cool it.” And then, she grabs Grace around the waist and presses her down against the pillow. 

 

Their lips connect messily, with a passion that’s just as young and naive as it is perfect. It sure is a lot nicer when Steph’s lipstick isn’t getting all over Grace.

 

Steph’s long hair threatens to get in the way of their making out, so Grace threads her hands up into it and gets a clearer view of the girl making a mess out of her.

 

Hands feel and fumble roughly over delicate silk, Steph’s hands resting on Grace’s hips, not daring to go further until she knows it’s okay.

 

And it is. It’s so okay with Grace. In fact, it’s so okay with Grace that she moves one of her own hands down to Steph’s waist, but ends up going a little further than she meant to and opens her eyes nervously.

 

Steph chuckles. “It’s okay, babe. You can touch.” Another kiss.

 

“O-okay.” Grace stutters. Another kiss.

 

“You know, I hated these nightgowns when we first got here,” Steph whispers. “But now I see their true advantages.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

Steph smiles down at Grace. “Easy access.”

 

At that, Grace melts. And she kisses Steph, again and again, while a hand trails up her thigh, delicately, always keeping Grace’s boundaries in mind.

 

“Steph?”

 

Steph’s eyes flutter open. “Yes?”

 

“Um… go slow, please?” Grace asks, meek as Steph has ever seen her. “But don’t stop.”

 

Steph nods. “I can do that.”

 

Grace learns that night. She learns that Steph looks like an angel, feels like heaven, and tastes like holy water.

 

And she doesn’t even think about praying for forgiveness.

Notes:

every time you think this chapter is done escalating, it escalates MORE

hi i meant to have this out a few days ago but I got a sinus infection and i get them all the time so i was just like yeah i can wait this out but then i COULDN’T cause it got BAD so i had to go to the doctor n shit and now im on a copious amount of prednisone and i feel like i could stop a train with my bare hands.

and i had to rewatch the hunger games movies. that was really important.

i am thinking of adding on an e-rated oneshot to this that continues the fade to black from this chapter. if you are interested in that pls let me know below.

Chapter 7: The Final Test

Summary:

Caught red-handed, Grace and Steph have to face the music for their actions, which leads to a drastic turn of events for Grace.

“Get up!”

 

Grace’s eyes shoot open at the sound of the sharp voices, so jarringly different from the soft whispers she’d been coaxed into sleep by. The Jerrys stand menacingly over the bed, waiting expectantly for one of the girls to respond.

 

Right. Grace has no time to admire the warm arms wrapped around her because she’s panicking, trying to think of a way she can explain their way out of this. But no, there are two nightgowns strewn to the floor and Steph’s body is still draped over hers- there’s no denying what happened here. All Grace can do is grimace and face the music.

 

And wake Steph up.

 

“Steph,” Grace pokes at the girl in bed with her, who groans. “Steph!”

 

“Stephanie Lauter!” Girl Jeri shouts.

 

“Hngh- what?” Steph stirs. She opens her eyes and nearly falls out of the bed.

 

“We’ll be waiting for you in our office.” Girl Jeri says expectantly.

 

Boy Jerry heads to the door. “Make yourselves decent. And don’t even think about delaying!”

 

Slam!

 

The Jerrys are gone. Grace and Steph meet eyes.

 

“Oh, fudge,” Grace whimpers. “We really fudged up this time, didn’t we?”

 

Steph takes Grace’s face in her hands. “Don’t say that for even a second. I have no regrets. And you shouldn’t either. Okay?”

 

Slowly, Grace nods.

 

“Good girl,” Steph smiles. “Alright, let’s go face the music.”

 

Getting ready is the last thing Grace wants to do. Taking off the covers, exposing herself to the world after the greatest night of her life, after she’d finally felt free for the first time… it wasn’t desirable, to say the least. But she does. She gets up and she puts on her uniform, as she has done every day at camp.

 

And with one last squeeze of each other’s hands, she and Steph head for the director’s cabin.

 

---

 

“It is disappointing. You both seemed to be doing so well,” Boy Jerry laments. “And now one of you will have to be expelled from camp.”

 

“Wh- what do you mean?” Steph gawks. “I can’t go home, my dad will kill me.”

 

“It’s the same as when poor Richard and Maxwell stumbled on their paths,” Girl Jeri interjects. “We can’t allow campers who are not willing to focus on their true journeys towards godly living distract the others from their true directions.”

 

“Who started it?” Boy Jerry asks, leaning over the desk. “Who infested the girls cabin with their filth?”

 

Grace and Steph share a look. Neither of them really anticipate what life might look like once they get kicked out.

 

But before Steph can even consider that she has a higher chance of making it out of Hatchetfield alive, Grace is speaking.

 

“I did,” Grace meets Steph’s eyes again. “I started it. I lured Steph into… into temptation.”

 

Girl Jeri shakes her head. “That was very honest of you, Grace.”

 

“Jeri,” Boy Jerry chimes in. “We’ll have to make arrangements for Maxwell’s final exam.”

 

“Of course, I’ll get on with that. Stephanie? You’re dismissed.”

 

Girl Jeri leads Steph out of the office, one last lingering look between the girls.

 

When it’s just Grace and Boy Jerry left, an awkward silence permeates the room.

 

Grace breaks it, her voice cracking. “So… I go home now?”

 

Boy Jerry looks down, with an exasperated sigh. “Actually, Grace… your parents’ contract states that should you fail out of the program… you’re not allowed to return home.”

 

… What?

 

“Pardon me?” Grace asks, more frantic now. “When did they say th-that I can’t come home?”

 

“At the beginning of the program,” Boy Jerry explains. “There’s a clause where guardians agree upon what happens to students should they not complete the program. Your parents chose the cut-off option.”

 

The cut-off option.

 

Grace can’t go home. But she can’t stay.

 

So they’re just turning her loose on the world?

 

---

 

The answer, it turns out, is yes.

 

Grace stands on the porch of the big house, staring down the gravel driveway leading out of Camp Idonwannabang. Her luggage, now the only things she owns, manage to fit in her suitcase and her backpack. 

 

Pete and Max appear next to her. Max tries to wrap an arm around her, keeping up their charade, but pulls back when she just shakes her head at him.

 

“It didn’t work, Max. I failed out of the program.”

 

Max frowns. “Whaddya mean?”

 

“Steph and I got caught, and I took the fall. I imagine Steph’s probably gonna be in solitary for a few days,” Grace looks back and forth between the two boys. “But thank you guys for helping. Our scheme worked for a solid day before we fudged it all up.”

 

“W-wwhy do you have to leave and not Steph?” Pete asks. “N-not that I want Steph to fail. I don’t want you to fail either, but I’m just wonderin’.”

 

“They need graduates.” Grace supposes.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Max says. “If Steph and I both left it would just be you out of the seven, Pete. And that’s, what? A fourteen percent graduation rate?”

 

Pete and Grace both stare, blank-eyed, at Max.

 

“...What?”

 

“Didn’t you say you were in remedial math?” Pete asks.

 

Max looks down at his feet. “Yeah. I, uh. Look, you can’t tell anyone.”

 

They nod their heads.

 

“I found a fourth grade math textbook in the solitary cabin,” Max admits. “Kind of the only thing I had.”

 

“Wait- you-you, Max Jägerman, got so bored in solitary that it led you to not only read , but read a math book ?” Grace stutters. She goes pale. “Maybe this camp really is changing us.”

 

The conversation is interrupted by the door to the big cabin slamming shut. The three look up to see Girl Jeri coming down the steps with Steph in tow.

 

“Good news, boys,” Girl Jeri says loudly. “Steph will do the final exam twice. She’s volunteered to go with both of you.”

 

Grace’s eyes furrow. Volunteered? Luckily, the imperceptible shake of Steph’s head that follows seems to negate that statement.

 

Girl Jeri turns directly to Grace. “And you should be gone already.”

 

Grace nods, picking up her suitcase handle. “Right. I’ll be- I’ll be going then.”

 

“Grace!”

 

It’s Steph. Grace doesn’t even respond. She’s gotta huff it if she wants to make it to her destination by sundown. So, she turns around, and makes her way down the long road, her suitcase wheels struggling to tumble over the bulky gravel the whole time.

 

The three remaining campers watch her go. If Rose had the best escape from camp, then Grace certainly has the worst. Even Richie and Ruth didn’t have quite a drawn-out end to their time at Camp Idonwannabang. While Richie and Ruth were just leaving, it truly feels like Grace is being exiled from somewhere she should’ve belonged.

 

Steph can’t bring herself to laugh at the irony. She’s left at camp, with Pete and Max flanking her, and they know that the worst is yet to come.

 

Two thundering claps draw the teenagers out of their stupor. 

 

“Chop chop, gang!” Boy Jerry shouts. “Exam studying begins today!”

 

As the three reluctantly turn and start up towards the big cabin, Jerry extends a hand to stop them.

 

“I’ll be taking the boys to the archery range,” Boy Jerry explains. “Girls meet Jeri in the arts pavilion.”

 

Steph sputters. “So I have to have a one-on-one study session with Girl Jeri?”

 

Boy Jerry nods like this is the most normal thing in the world. As if there’s still three more girls here. With solemn murmurs of “Sorry, Steph”, Pete and Max inch past her and follow Boy Jerry off into the distance. 

 

With a sigh, Steph resigns herself to her personal sermon (er- are women allowed to preach in the Jerry’s version of things?) and trudges off by her lonesome to the arts pavilion.

 

---

 

It takes approximately half an hour for Grace to make it to her destination. Longer than it would’ve taken her if she hadn’t stopped to lean up against a tree and cry dramatically for multiple minutes.

 

With the interrogation and debate and the packing, Grace hadn’t noticed how the time was passing, and with the early sunsets of October guiding her way, it’s already sundown by the time she approaches that old farmhouse she’d vaguely remembered the location of.

 

It takes almost fifteen seconds for her to actually gain enough courage to knock on the door.

 

When she does, the peephole opens and Grace hears an audible groan.

 

“I thought we told you Idonwannabang brats to stay off the property!”

 

“Miss Emma?” Grace asks timidly. “It’s me- Grace. Grace Chasity. Look, I’m real sorry for what we did that day. And- and everything I did before that. Trying to get you guys shut down and whatnot. In my defense, the nighthawks are still kinda in danger so I won’t say that I super regret advocating for them, but-”

 

“Grace, you’re not making yourself a great case right now.”

 

“Right- right, I’m sorry, I just-” Grace takes a deep breath. “I fudged up, Miss Emma. I got caught and- and my parents aren’t gonna let me come home and I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go and-I’m so sorry!”

 

Grace bursts into tears right where she stands. She tries to get a few more words out through choked sobs, but it doesn't happen. Not in a way that’s at all coherent, at least. Through her sniffles and sobs she barely registers the door opening, the warm, inviting light that suddenly pours into the cold Hatchetfield night. She doesn’t register Emma standing there, her look of animosity melting into pure sadness.

 

She was never actually going to be able to turn Grace away, was she? Damn her heart.

 

“Come in.” 

 

The blubbering quiets. “...Wh…Really?”

 

Emma’s hand starts to usher Grace in. “Yes, of course, now get in before the moths do.”

 

Grace stumbles inside while Emma shuts the door behind her. She looks around through the tears in her eyes, at the creaky floors and the old stairs and how everything looks so…nice, and lived in. She glances over after catching movement in the doorway. It’s Paul, Emma’s husband. He’s in pajama pants and a t-shirt and is holding a big bowl.

 

“You’re gonna wanna pop another bag, Paul.” Emma comments.

 

Indeed, Paul sets the bowl down and Grace can see that it’s full of fresh popcorn. 

 

“Maybe in a minute, Em,” Paul says. He offers a hand. Grace stands still for a moment, then shrugs off her backpack and hands it over. “It’s a pretty long walk. You need a shower? There a change of clothes in here?”

 

“The Jerrys got rid of my day clothes,” Grace explains. “After the night we snuck out, they confiscated most of our outside world stuff.”

 

“She can wear somethin’ of mine,” Ziggs appears, coming down the stairs, and winks. “Hey chiclet. You okay with tie-dye?”

 

Grace ignores the urge to groan.

 

She goes upstairs, the others graciously carrying her suitcase for her, and deposit it outside of a closed bedroom door. Paul raps at the door three times.

 

“You decent?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Don’t call me that, Rich.”

 

“Right! Sorry M- uh, Paul.”

 

Grace nearly falls to the floor when the door is opened on the other side by Richie Lipshitz. 

 

The boy she got kicked out of camp.

 

The boy she watched walk into oblivion and was sure she was never gonna see again.

 

“Oh my god,” Richie says. “Grace?”

 

Before she can even respond, Richie is scooping her up into a hug.

 

“Oh, I’m so glad you made it out too!”

 

“Richie,” Grace breathes. “You- I- but you were-”

 

“We’ll be downstairs,” Emma cuts in briefly. “You guys talk.”

 

---

 

“Ouch!”

 

Steph brings her finger to her lips and sucks on what has to be the fifty-seventh needle prick she’s given herself this entire study session. Girl Jeri happily hums, working her way down the hemming she’s securing a gorgeous lace applique to, a satin white dream that Steph can imagine a princess wearing at the end of a Disney movie.

 

And it is without a doubt not something that she wants to see herself in. Too bad that that’s exactly what it’s for. 

 

The final exam, Steph had learned, is a simulated marriage ceremony; the previous owners of the camp had done something far more “promiscuous” for the final exam before the Jerrys took over and frankly, Steph was just shocked to learn that the Jerrys hadn’t just found the fountain of eternal youth and used it to run this hellscape for seventy years.

 

It was mainly about showing off all the things you had learned while at camp- Steph was to show her dad that she could fulfill the roles of a traditional housewife by mending her own dress, cooking food that would be eaten at the reception (that she had half a mind to put rat poison in) and most importantly of all, be devoted, obedient, and faithful to her future husband.

 

Steph scoffs at the idea of her father wanting her to be faithful, as if she hadn’t grown up seeing Miss Tessburger’s car in the driveway every time her mother went out to do so much as get groceries.

 

Regardless, the idea of a display of faithfulness is a little silly when Steph is being forced to participate in it twice due to the lack of female campers. And that was entirely the Jerrys’ own fault.

 

But then again, watching Grace say vows to Max would’ve been too much for Steph to handle, probably.

 

“You’re going to make a beautiful bride, Stephanie,” Girl Jeri says dreamily. “This is every little girl’s dream, you know.”

 

“...Was it your dream? To marry Boy Jerry?” Steph asks cautiously.

 

“We’re not married. Why would you think that?” 

 

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just assumed,” Steph catches a tag on the inside of the dress. Faded writing says Geraldine Summers in delicate embroidery. “Cause this is your dress, Isn’t it?”

 

Jeri’s face grows solemn. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Steph drops the subject.

 

---

 

“And Ruth? And Rose?”

 

“Rose is downtown, crashing with her bandmates,” Richie explains. “Ruth called her dad. He had no idea about the camp. He came to pick her up immediately, she was only here one night.”

 

Grace smiles. “Wow, that’s so amazing. I’m so glad for her.”

 

“Yeah, but he took her back home to his house. In Clivesdale .”

 

Grace’s face sours. “ Oh . Well…at least she’s not at camp?”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

 

“So…what do we do now?” Grace asks. “Do we just stay here until…what?”

 

Richie tsks. “Well, I’m gonna stay and get a job and pay rent and stuff, a-and maybe once I’m able to, I’ll get Danny and we’ll get our own place.”

 

Right. Richie’s still got a brother in the system he needs to look out for. But Grace…she’s entirely on her own. Freshly eighteen and free to do whatever she wants.

 

She just needs to figure out what that is. Cause right now, deep in the bottom of her soul, the only place she wants to be is cradled in Steph’s arms.

 

“Richie, I got caught in bed with Steph.”

 

Richie gasps. “Really?! Oh, I was waiting to see when you two would finally get on with that.”

 

“Yeah, yeah…” Grace laughs to herself. “Max and I were faking a whole thing. To try and get the Jerrys off our backs. It worked… for about a day.”

 

Richie goes a little stiff at the mention of Max. So much so that Grace notices.

 

“Right…how is he? Or, I guess, how was he when you left?”

 

Grace shrugs. “He told me he was reading books in solitary.”

 

“I didn’t know he knew how to do that,” Richie says, completely ignoring the monster book they’d read together to plan that prank. “But, um…I’m glad he seems to be okay.”

 

“He misses you.”

 

After a bout of silence, Richie stands up. “Here, Ziggy left you some clothes. Go shower up, and then come downstairs. We’re gonna have a movie night.”

 

“What movie?”

 

“Probably The Matrix, at least I hope.”

 

“Isn’t that rated R?”

 

“Yeah? And?”

 

Grace considers this for a second. And then she picks up the clothes and bounds down the hall to the bathroom. 

 

Ziggs was right. She is pretty okay with tie-dye. So long as it’s only seen by her new friends, Emma and Paul sitting close in a way Grace can only dream about doing with Steph, Richie tossing pieces of popcorn into Ziggs’ mouth and them horribly missing every time, and Grace in the middle of it all, comfortable for the first time in a long time.

 

It’s a shame Steph isn’t here, too.

Notes:

walks in two years after the last chapter with a coffee and a college degree like haiiiii

Chapter 8: Graduation

Summary:

On the eve of camp graduation, Grace and Richie come up with a plan that could either flourish or fail spectacularly.

The twin beds lining the walls of the third bedroom in the Perkins farmhouse sit silent, as the two teenagers occupying them are oddly stiff and unable to relax. Moonlight pours in through the window, the shadows of the Hatchetfield Witchwood marked up against the beaten dresser and cracked mirror that decorate the previously unused room. 

 

“Grace, whatever you’re thinking right now, stop it.”

 

“What do you mean? How did you know I-”

 

“You’ve been staring at the ceiling angry-sighing for the past forty-five minutes.”

 

Grace turns her head and glares, Richie’s eyes meeting her with an “I told you so” on the edge of his tongue.

 

“It’s not my fault that I miss her.”

 

“Yeah, but this is more than a longing sigh, it’s a ‘I’m gonna do something drastic’ sigh, you might as well have a thought bubble above your head,” Richie presses on. “And those plans are best made in the daylight, on a full stomach.”

 

Grace rolls her eyes. No freakin’ way is Richie the smart one now.

 

“...If you could burn that whole camp to the ground with the Jerrys inside if it meant that no one ever had to go through that again, would you do it?”

 

Richie stutters. “...Okay, now I’m worried about what you’re actually planning to do.”

 

“My life just got turned upside down, I feel it’s only fair that I do the same to them.” Grace says nonchalantly.

 

“We don’t have to kill anyone to do it, though,” Richie wrings his hands together. “And with your tone of voice, I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

 

“We don’t have to kill any people ,” Grace sits up in bed and turns to Richie. “Just business.”

 

Richie makes a face. But, he might like where this is going.

 

---

 

When Pete finishes his final talk with the Jerrys, he exits the main cabin and stalks down the stairs, nearly crushing the pink flowers that line the walkway to the camper bunks due to the corners he’s cutting. He means to go directly to the Blue Bunk and take this god awful suit off, the same way Max did, but he’s stopped when he sees what’s going on outside the Pink Bunk- Steph, crumpled up on herself, still in her wedding dress. As he approaches, he thinks he might hear the subtle sound of crying.

 

“Steph?”

 

She looks up. Her face is stained, surely. No wonder. She’d just gone through the most humiliating thing possible twice , in a greyed-out wedding gown from the eighties.

 

“At least it’s over, right?” Steph asks as Pete sits down.

 

Pete swallows. “I-I guess.”

 

“What about when they make us do it for real in two years?” they hear. Max appears, freshly showered and out of his ridiculous mock-wedding getup. He hangs a seat under the porch across from the other two kids. “You look ridiculous in that dress, by the way.”

 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Steph says, deadpan. “Get used to it, Jägerman. I think our dads are already writing our save-the-dates.”

 

Max frowns. “...Ew.”

 

“I dunno, if you’re gonna do the whole lavender marriage thing it might as well be with someone who gets it.” Pete chimes in.

 

“I’d rather puke and die choking on my own stomach acid,” Steph groans. “No offence, Max.”

 

“None taken,” he sits up. “Look, are we gonna enjoy the last few hours before we’re released back to our parents or what?”

 

Steph quirks her head to the side. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“I’m sure the Jerrys would find it promising if Pete and I put in the hard work to get a campfire going all by ourselves,” Max explains. “Ooh, but we need kindling. The leaves might still be wet from the rain the other day. Anybody have any clothes they’d like to sacrifice?”

 

Pete scoffs. “Jesus Christ, Max, you’re asking us to burn our clothes?”

 

“No, he’s asking if we wanna burn Girl Jeri’s clothes.” Steph chimes in, gesturing to her gown.

 

“...Oh, that’s diabolical.” Pete says. “Let’s go.”

 

---

 

The next morning, still barely awake, Ziggs packs up the back of the truck with one hand while a cup of coffee sloshes around in the other.

 

“Remember, if Emma asks, I didn’t give you the keys.” They say.

 

Richie and Grace, fully packed up in the driver and passenger seats, respectively, nod obediently.

 

“You know how to drive right?” Ziggy asks. “If you crash this puppy it’s all on you, Lipshitz.”

 

Richie nods. “I know, I promise. I went to driver's ed once.”

 

Grace winces. “Once?”

 

But, it’s good enough for Ziggs, apparently. They shoot the kids a sleepy thumbs up and step back to wave them off.

 

“It’s a mile, Grace, I think we’ll be just fine.”

 

Grace grips the ceiling handle tighter. “Just drive before I change my mind, Lipshitz.”

 

With one last fleeting moment of panicked eye contact with Ziggy, Grace feels Richie lurch the truck into reverse and then hightail it down the dirt road.

 

Back into the fire.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Grace says after a solid minute of driving in silence.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, what if the Jerrys call the cops on us and we go to jail for the rest of our lives and we die after watching all our friends get straight married?”

 

Richie has to avoid the urge to slam on the brakes. “...Grace. Are you listening to yourself?”

 

Grace buries her head in her hands. “I know, I know, it’s just…I don’t wanna go and do all this stuff and then…they don’t wanna come with us.”

 

“If they don’t wanna come with, that’s on them,” Richie says. “But I think they will.”

 

“Love has nothing on financial security,” Grace murmurs. “If they get that, then they won’t come with us.”

 

Richie can’t say anything to that.

 

“Well, I’m not turning around. So unless you jump out of the car, we’re doing this.”

 

The truck tumbles along. Grace watches the Witchwood fly by as breath sinks down in her chest.

 

“I’m not used to acting on my own ideas.”

 

“Yeah, I got that vibe,” Richie says. “I mean, now that you’re on your own, everything you do is gonna have to come from your own head.”

 

Grace mumbles to herself. “That’s scary.”

 

“I mean, you can always get help.” Richie shrugs.

 

Grace, unfortunately, laughs at that. Getting help was what their parents were claiming they were doing by sending them to camp in the first place.

 

---

 

Weird latex dress be damned, Steph knows that the worst part of this getup is the ponytail Girl Jeri had forced her hair into. She’s slumped against the wall outside of the chapel picking out pieces to relieve some of the tension when the boys round the corner, dressed in garish blue, with bowties fashioned around their necks and tissue paper flowers stuck in their lapels.

 

“We look disgusting.” Steph says.

 

“You could’ve said ‘you look disgusting’, you know,” Max says. “We would’ve thrown it right back at you.”

 

Steph rolls her eyes. “Real charming, Jägerman. Where’s the goddamn Jerrys?”

 

Just as she says it, the two in question enter in all white outfits, smiling ear to ear and fawning over their perfect porcelain dolls that they neglect to mention are actual teenagers. 

 

“Your families are gonna love to see you all healed.” Boy Jerry says.

 

“Okay, we’re gonna go get things started,” Girl Jeri beams. She approaches Steph, taking her hands. “I’m so glad I managed to keep one of my girls all the way through, Steph. We almost lost you there! But you held on, so tight, and now you’re graduating. Enjoy this moment, Stephanie. You’ve earned it.”

 

Steph has to shake Girl Jeri off of her, the tight grip having left behind marks on Steph’s hands.

 

When the two get in, the kids catch a glimpse of the figures dressed in white lining the pews, unfortunately recognizing their families. Steph catches the heavy door just before it slams shut and peeks in through the crack, scouring the backs of heads for anybody else. 

 

Not that she’s looking for anyone in particular.

 

Pete leans in. “Steph, do you see a dude in the back? Skinny, white, greasy hair?”

 

Steph squints. “I only see one guy. He doesn’t look like your brother. He’s in…is that a trenchcoat? It’s seventy degrees outside!”

 

“Uhhh…no, that’s not him. Who-” Pete ducks under Steph to follow her gaze. “Max, do you know that guy?”

 

From underneath Pete, Max appears to take his own look. “No. I’ve never seen that guy before in my fucking life.”

 

The stranger lifts his watch to check the time. The reflection catches a glint of the shiny material of their clothes, and the three quickly flit away before anyone sees them.

 

“Thank you all so much for joining us for today’s ceremony…” they hear Boy Jerry’s voice booming in the distance.

 

“Our dads are sitting together.” Steph whispers to Max.

 

“...Fuck.”

 

Max’s eyes fill with dread. They hear a rumbling outside, but before they can even worry about what it might be, the Jerrys are calling for them. One by one, their names are called and they awkwardly walk down the aisle of the chapel and try their darndest to not look their families in the eye.

 

“Peter Spankoffski.”

 

Pete’s lucky. His family doesn’t seem to want to look at him either. He scurries down the aisle like he’s got horse blinders on.

 

“Stephanie Lauter.”

 

Steph’s not so fortunate. She somehow manages to meet Solomon’s eyes the second she walks into the chapel. And the most disgusting thing in the world happens- he smiles at her. Solomon is happy that Steph feels so disgusting she could crawl out of her skin- of course he is, she’s finally the perfect mayor’s daughter. There’s no way he can lose in November now.

 

“Maxwell Jägerman.”

 

…Nothing.

 

“...Maxwell Jägerman…” Boy Jerry trails off, squinting. “ Max!”

 

The Jerrys are daring Pete and Steph to turn around and look. To ruin this whole ordeal by looking like they care about one another. Steph resists the urge, thinking Max is just shaking off nerves, and he’ll come in the next time his name is called.

 

Greg Jägerman looks none too pleased. It’s Solomon who gently extends a hand, beckoning him to stay seated and not cause a scene.

 

Steph and Pete can’t see it, but the Jerrys can. Out of the slivers of dirty stained glass lining the crummy chapel, they see an unmistakable flurry of blue disappearing into the woods, hand in hand with a figure in gray. When they see the two bodies connect, what’s happened is unmistakable. Someone has infiltrated. Richard has infiltrated, that no good infidel. And he’s taken Max down with him at the very last second.

 

Steph keeps walking. Pete’s just reached the front row and started to take his seat. Just a few more steps and she’ll be right next to him.

 

“Ah- um, well, moving right along,” Boy Jerry stutters, shuffling through a few papers. “Up next is, uh, is-”

 

“ Grace Chasity!”

 

Everyone stops cold. Girl Jeri was instructed not to speak at all during the ceremony, much less say that name, her voice dripping with vitriol. Boy Jerry glares daggers at his companion, but the rest of the eyes in the chapel are turning to the entrance.

 

“Steph.”

 

However, Steph can’t do anything. She can’t move. She can’t turn around. She just looks straight forward. Until a hand grabs her and turns her around. 

 

Sure enough, it’s Grace. Hair pulled back messily, oversized work clothes masquerading the figure Steph knows too well, looking remarkably out of place amongst the pristine, perfect scene created in the chapel.

 

“Grace…what do you want?” Steph says under her breath, at risk of her voice cracking.

 

Grace’s eyes search Steph’s for some sort of meaning, for some sort of answers- truth be told, she hadn’t thought this far ahead. She thought she would just appear and Steph would jump into her arms and they’d run into the Witchwood together.

 

“Steph, I-” Grace stumbles. She finally looks around, sees all the other faces in the crowd. None of them look very pleased to see her. “I came to get you.”

 

“Grace…” Steph trails off. Truth be told? She wants to go. She wants to go very, very badly.

 

One look into the eyes of Solomon Lauter and she knows that that will not be what happens today.

 

“I can’t.”

 

Quiet doesn’t work. Not here. Grace stands, dignity deflated like Steph just took a needle to her heart, as the girl she just stuck her neck out for so wholeheartedly turns back around, silently, and takes her seat next to Pete.

 

On impulse, Grace turns in Solomon’s direction. She points directly at him. “You are a very mean man, you know.”

 

Solomon gives absolutely no reaction. Defeated, Grace turns around and leaves the chapel, slamming the doors behind her before the Jerrys can get any closer to her.

 

It takes everything in her to not slump to the floor right there.

 

Instead, she trudges back out towards the truck, where Max and Richie are laying down a blanket in the truck bed, presumably for the runaway that Grace does not have in tow.

 

“What the hell? Where’s Steph?” Richie asks.

 

“She’s not coming, Rich,” Grace says with a pout. “We’d better go before we get in any more trouble.”

 

“...So you’re just gonna give up?” Max asks. “You barely even tried!”

“You weren’t in there, Maxwell, you wouldn’t know!” Grace spews back. “You didn’t see her face. She was so…scared.”

 

Max scoffs. “And what? You want her to look that way for the rest of her life?”

 

Back in the chapel, Pete can’t stop his knee from bouncing as Steph takes her seat next to him. “You should’ve gone with her.”

 

“I can’t,” Steph whispers back. “I won’t let my dad chase after me and get Grace for kidnapping. I won’t leave you.”

 

“Steph, I have told you repeatedly that you don’t need to worry about me,” Pete insists. “I know how to handle myself. Even in the care of my bastard ass brother.”

“I know that, I just-”

 

“And Grace can’t get got for kidnapping if you’re eighteen,” Pete presses on, making sure to talk lower than Boy Jerry’s barking of a sermon. “I think you need to stop making excuses.”

 

Girl Jeri shoots them a glare, and they stop talking. Boy Jerry presses on, seemingly unaware of the side conversation- or, of anything besides the sound of his own voice, really.

 

When he’s finally done talking about the sanctity of marriage and a bunch of other crap that not a single person in the audience could seem to care about, he turns to the two graduates.

 

“And now, we will welcome the- uh, the graduating class of Camp Idonwannabang.”

 

Pete leans over to Steph one last time. “Hey. Twenty-eight percent graduation rate.”

 

Steph snorts out a laugh, ignoring Girl Jeri’s glare.

 

“Peter Spankoffski.”

 

He stands, accepting a weird-looking award that will probably end up in Ted’s garbage can within the weekend from Girl Jeri. He doesn’t know whether to shake her hand, or say thank you, or what, so he just does a weird little bow and returns to his seat.

 

“Stephanie Lauter.”

 

Steph stands, about to accept the award from Girl Jeri when the latter looks past Steph and makes an indiscernible face.

 

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

 

No one even heard the chapel doors reopen. 

 

But they’re certainly open now, because Grace is back in the room. 

 

And this time, Steph turns. This time, she listens.

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”

 

Grace has shed her gray farm clothes, left in the purple sweater and floral skirt- the outfit she’d worn the night they snuck out to the Birdhouse. The outfit that she first kissed Steph in. Steph is bewildered- Girl Jeri had taken all their day clothes after Rose escaped. But she doesn’t mind. Seeing Grace, back in that outfit, sends a rush of feelings through her body that she can’t even begin to process when every eye in the building is on her and Grace.

 

“If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

 

“How dare you!” Boy Jerry shouts. “How dare you bastardize the good book for your- your depravity!” 

 

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love ,” Grace says with tears in her eyes. “I know the Bible back and forth, Steph. And I have spent eighteen years thinking I was living by it. But I don’t think that’s true.”

 

Steph’s breath catches in her throat.

 

“I don’t want to believe in a God that doesn’t believe in love,” Grace presses on. “I don’t know if we have a love that will last forever, Steph. But I can hope. I can hope that the kind of love I feel for you is right, and good, and not something that I need to hide.”

 

There’s a small silence. Even the Jerrys can’t say anything.

 

Grace takes the opportune silence. “I’m not saying you have to come with me. And I can’t promise a happily ever after. I’m just letting you know where I stand. And I’m not going to ask for forgiveness.”

 

She stumbles. Steph wonders what’s the matter for two seconds, and then she feels and sees the Jerrys pushing past her, going right for Grace.

 

“What did we say, Chasity?!” Boy Jerry shouts. “You get off this property right now, or-”

 

He doesn’t get to finish his threat before Grace is running away again. And this time, when she leaves out the big, swinging chapel doors, Steph’s heart heaves with every possible nerve in her body telling her to follow.

 

But she can’t. Not as long as the Jerrys are still standing in between her and the door. If she listens closely, she can force herself to hear the truck revving up with Grace, Max, and Richie in tow, Steph left behind forever.

 

Pete, too, sees this. He eyes the Jerrys, his parents, the weird man in a hurry at the back of the chapel, and closes his eyes, and clutches his head.

 

“Um, Jerrys? Mom? Dad?” Pete calls out. “Do any of you have my glucose tablets? I feel like I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

 

Steph turns around at the sound of what might be a serious medical emergency. Instead, she sees Pete, mouthing the word “GO.” at her.

 

As the Jerrys spring into lawsuit-avoiding action, Steph sees her pathway to freedom open up once again. 

 

She also, to her surprise, sees a man in an ugly green shirt and sunglasses sitting next to the trenchcoat man. That must be Pete’s pathway to freedom. And with that taken care of, well…

 

Outside, Grace races for the truck, where Richie and Max are already waiting in the front seats. Assuming her second attempt has failed, Richie revs the engine and prepares to trek off as soon as Grace is back in the car.

 

“Let’s go, Lipshitz.”

 

“ Grace!”

 

Three heads turn. Max and Richie burst into huge smiles, while Grace remains gobsmacked at what she’s seeing. 

 

Shoes tossed into oblivion, Stephanie Lauter runs, barefoot, in her fluffy pink dress, across the gravel, into the soft grass, straight for the bed of the Perky’s truck.

 

Heaving, she jumps into the truck and screams for Richie to go, go, go, which he does happily. Max is about to turn around and ask a series of questions, but he forgoes it when he sees what’s going on back there.

 

Sides bumping against the truck, Grace and Steph couldn’t care less as their lips meet hungrily.

 

“Did you like my speech?” Grace asks dopily in between kisses. “I know Corinthians pretty well, huh?”

 

Steph smiles, cradling Grace’s face in her hands. “You’re such a nerd.”

 

Yep, Grace thinks as Steph eagerly kisses her again. That’s her Steph.

Notes:

me, worlds biggest cinderella's castle stan writing grace's speech: last forever- LAST FOREVER?????...........ever afterEVER AFTER??!?!?!?!?!

anyways yayyyyyyy lesbian!!!!! i'll be writing a little epilogue and then this fic will be over WOWIE ZOWIE!!!! it's crazy.

Chapter 9: Epilogue: November

Summary:

November. The survivors of Camp Idonwannabang reunite to celebrate Needy Beast's return to the stage after their mysterious two-month hiatus.

The fog on the tinted window panes make the Slaughtered Pig look even more grungy and underground than it really is, something that the patrons find to be no bother. There are a few new faces in the building, not feeling nearly as out of place as they might look to an unknowing outsider. 

 

Inside the Slaughtered Pig, sat at the bar, are Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity, and Max Jägerman. They’re sore thumbs in their homemade Needy Beast t-shirts, celebrating the band’s return after their mysterious two-month hiatus.

 

“Richie’s not gonna make it,” Max says, glancing at his phone. “He’s hanging out with Danny tonight.”

 

Steph rolls her eyes and scoffs sarcastically. “How dare he? Skipping out on us to spend time with his brother he’s trying to get custody of?”

 

“Damn shame, I was gonna dedicate the song ‘Carcass’ to him.”

 

They turn to see Rose in her full glory, decked out in all black with a cardboard box casually on her hip, looking like she was never forced into that frilly pink hellscape. The teenagers greet her enthusiastically, not having seen her in person since The Great Escape. 

 

Rose, shockingly, accepts a hug from Grace. “I didn’t know you had it in you. I heard about your little stunt at graduation.”

 

Grace flushes. “Yeah, you and everyone who listens to the morning news. I don’t wanna hear Dan Reynolds say my name ever again. I got clerks at the grocery store askin’ me about it.”

 

“Yeah, it sure got people out of the woodwork…” Rose points to one of the only adequate looking booths in the joint. “My baby cousin. I haven’t seen her in years.”

 

Steph grimaces. “Oh no, what’d she say?”

 

“She introduced me to her girlfriend.” 

 

Pleasantly surprised, Grace shoots her glance over to the corner. Indeed, there are two girls, who Grace figures can’t be any older than fifteen, sitting at a booth together, holding hands and sipping sodas. The taller one, presumably Rose’s cousin, has blue streaks in her braids and homemade patches sewn into her red vest. The other girl is shorter and swims in a massive yellow and black flannel shirt. It’s a serene snapshot of what life in Hatchetfield could look like if everyone was just a little kinder. It tugs at Grace’s heartstrings.

 

“Sorry we’re late, my brother didn’t wanna drive us so we had to bus it,” Pete says as he scrambles in, Ruth close behind. The others get up to greet him, but stop when he stares shocked at their outfits. “And we apparently missed the memo on the swag. What gives, guys?”

 

“We invited you to make ‘em with us, bro,” Max reminds him. “You turned us down to go schmoozing with the Monroes, remember?”

 

Pete scoffs. “I was not schmoozing , I’m a tutor . Big difference.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, tutoring that hot mom on how to lay it down right , right?” Max jeers, slapping Pete on the back.

 

“Oh, great, you’re still disgusting,” Rose says with a laugh. She walks over to Ruth. “Hey, Flemwad. How’s Clivesdale treating you?”

 

Ruth shrugs. “It’s boring as shit . There’s only one upside- notice anything different?”

 

The others shrug and shake their heads. It’s Grace who snaps to attention.

 

“Holy shins!” Grace says. “What happened to your headgear?”

 

Ruth beams a big, unobstructed smile. “I don’t need it! No one wants to throw me into walls, so I don’t need the headgear to protect me anymore.”

 

“That’s still…really fucking sad,” Steph says. “But I’m glad you’re doing okay, Ruth.”

 

“Well, maybe once I finish school I can come back to Hatchetfield,” Ruth says with a shrug. “If you guys would have me back after being a Chemist for a year.”

 

“Can’t make any promises…”

 

The others turn to Max and vary between their shushes and bewildered looks. They turn back.

 

“Anyone not in high school who gives a fuck about where your diploma is from is seriously unwell,” Rose says. She gives Ruth a heartwarming pat on the arm. “Don’t let it concern you.”

 

“I mean, it might concern future employers,” Max jokes. “You ever met any of the adults in this town? Do any of them seem mentally well to you?”

 

Rose frowns. “No. And you don’t either.”

 

Max shrugs. “Well, at least I’ve got an excuse.”

 

“This conversation has been riveting . Great to see you guys, but I’ve got fuckin’ show to perform,” Rose digs around in her cardboard box and pulls out two t-shirts, tossing them to Ruth and Pete. “ Real merch, on the house. You’re the first ones to own ‘em.”

 

Pete catches the shirt, glancing at the chicken-scratch writing of the band’s logo and grinning wide. “I can’t tell what this shit says at all .”

 

“Perfect!”

 

As Rose marches off backstage, the group gathers and heads for the pit. 

 

“How loud is this gonna get?” Grace asks innocently.

 

“How much do you value your eardrums?” Max says in reply.

 

Grace frowns, but smiles again as Steph extends a handful of foam earbuds, popping one of her own in. Grace gratefully takes a pair, Pete and Ruth following, while Max is already standing at the edge of the stage howling like an idiot.

 

“He’s a lost cause, isn’t he?” Grace asks.

 

Steph presses a kiss to Grace’s temple. “Yeah. But he’s Richie’s lost cause. Not ours.”

 

“Bold assumption to make,” Max intervenes. “Who said we were dating?”

 

“The amount of times I had to crash in Ziggs’ room?” Grace replies. “I think you’re luckier than I am that my parents started going to those PFLAG meetings.”

 

Caught, Max frowns and turns back to the stage, just in time for Rose and her bandmates to storm it. Her unlikely friends receive a wink, an unspoken dedication of their set to the probably trauma-bonded group of kids who put that behind them for a single night as the music starts to play, mind-numbingly loud.

 

Max thrashes his head. Ruth dances with strangers. Pete tries to decipher the music from the noise. Grace clings close to Steph’s side, and even though she’s not particularly cold, she still happily wraps the green flannel around her body when Steph offers.

Notes:

and thats the end! hope you guys enjoyed this ride that took two years for me to come back to. it was worth it, becuase HANNAH AND SOPHIA ARE DATING AND NO ONE AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT!!! i somehow managed to include all of yellowjacket trio (my faves <3) in this fic. win for me

tumblr @underscore-jude come say hi im in a big starkid phase again (ive been around for 14 years it comes and goes)

Notes:

me, using orlando/virginia woolf in my lesbian grace chasity fic: so THIS is what you do with a BA in English

en ee ways... i hope you guys are as excited as i am. my little lesbian heart. this one is going to be fun. I'm still working on AFA i prommy i just wanted to also do this one as soon as possible i love it so much!! my tumblr is @underscore-jude come be gay with me there :)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of perfect all american bitch!