Chapter 52 – Rest Day 6 (Part 2)
The cabin was still dim, with the first rays of sunlight slipping through the poorly nailed boards. Gwen opened her eyes slowly, feeling the cool morning air and the silence broken only by Owen's snoring, which sounded like it came from an alternate dimension.
She stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, unmoving. Not out of laziness, but because her mind was processing something new. Something that didn't quite fit into her usual routine.
She felt… lighter.
Not excited like Lindsay when she finds a new mirror. Not euphoric like Izzy spotting a squirrel. But… different. Unburdened. As if something inside her had quietly unlocked.
She sat up in bed, stretched her arms, and allowed herself a small smile.
"I'm dating Cody."
The phrase still sounded strange in her head. Not because she didn't want it, but because she never thought something like that would happen. He was… him. Clumsy, intense, but genuine. And in this camp full of façades and cameras, that was worth more than any performance.
She got up and walked to her backpack. Pulled out her brush, combed her hair with more care than usual, and put on a black t-shirt—one without holes. She even applied a bit of eyeliner, just enough so it didn't look intentional.
"It's not for him. It's for me."
"Well… maybe a little for him."
She left the cabin with a calm stride, enjoying the fresh air. The sun was just beginning to paint the sky, and for the first time in days, the day didn't feel like a threat.
When she reached the mess hall, she saw him.
Cody was sitting on one of the benches, talking with the Chef. His hair was still damp, probably from a recent shower, and his expression was a mix of focus and nervousness.
When he saw her, he straightened immediately. He saved her a spot beside him, like it was a silent ritual.
Gwen approached, unhurried. She sat next to him, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.
They were just there. Together. In the middle of chaos, cameras, and curious glances.
And for Gwen, that was enough.
The mess hall was quieter than usual. Maybe because the Chef had decided not to yell during breakfast, or because most campers were still recovering from the previous challenge. Gwen entered with a relaxed pace, her eyes scanning the tables until they landed on Cody.
He'd already seen her. He straightened in his seat, like his spine had just remembered it had dignity. Beside him, a tray with toast, fruit, and a cup of coffee that looked more trustworthy than usual.
When Gwen approached, Cody smiled nervously.
"I saved you a spot. And coffee. Well… hot liquid with coffee aspirations," he said.
Gwen sat down, eyeing the cup with skepticism.
"Did Chef make it with water or resentment?" she asked.
"Probably both. But it has less foam than yesterday, so that's progress," he said.
She picked up the cup, sniffed it, and decided her immune system could handle it. Took a small sip, frowned, but didn't spit it out.
"It definitely has personality," she said.
Cody laughed, relieved by the lightness of the moment. Gwen looked different. Not because of the eyeliner or the intact shirt, but because of how present she was. Like she wasn't waiting for something to go wrong.
"You look… I don't know. More you," he said.
Gwen glanced sideways.
"More me like 'less goth' or 'less on the verge of existential collapse'?" she asked.
"More like 'calmer.' Like the world isn't about to explode," he said.
She stayed silent for a few seconds, staring at the tray. Took a piece of toast, broke it in two, and spoke without looking up.
"Maybe because for the first time in a long while, I don't feel like I have to be on guard," she said.
Cody nodded, not interrupting. He knew Gwen didn't say things lightly. That every word was a stone carefully placed in the wall she chose whether to open or not.
"I like being with you, Gwen. I don't want this to be just a camp phase," he said.
She looked at him, serious. Not uncomfortable—just aware of the weight of what he was saying.
"Me neither," she said.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was comfortable. Like a pause between two songs that fit.
But Cody still had something to say. Something he couldn't keep to himself.
"Something happened this morning…" he said.
Gwen looked up, alert but not judging.
"What?" she asked.
Cody swallowed. The moment of truth had arrived.
He lowered his gaze, stirring his coffee with a spoon that felt more decorative than functional.
"This morning, after training… Izzy kissed me in the woods," Cody said.
Gwen stayed still. Not surprised—just uncomfortable. The woods were a place she associated with calm, with space to think. Now, that image had been tainted.
"Was it spontaneous or part of one of her chaos rituals?" Gwen asked, not looking directly.
"It was serious," Cody said. "I didn't see it coming. I didn't ask for it. And I didn't let it continue."
Gwen gripped the cup in her hands. Not out of jealousy—out of tension. She felt something had crossed into her space, into her dynamic, without permission.
"Did she treat it like a joke?" Gwen asked.
"No. She looked at me like it was a challenge. Like she was testing something," Cody said.
Gwen looked up and searched for Izzy among the tables. Found her, sitting with an apple in hand, chatting with Owen. But when she noticed Gwen's gaze, Izzy turned her head and held it. Not with guilt. With defiance.
Gwen didn't look away. Didn't blink. Just watched her, like measuring the distance between two active volcanoes.
"She said you weren't a threat to her," Cody said. "That if I was with you, she had to be sure I wouldn't back down."
Gwen looked at Izzy again. This time with more intensity. Not out of insecurity—but indignation. It wasn't the kiss that bothered her. It was the game.
"I'm sorry, Gwen. I shouldn't have let her get that close. I shouldn't have dropped my guard," Cody said.
Gwen didn't respond right away. She turned her head slowly, like calibrating her reaction. Then looked back at Izzy, who now smiled like she knew something the others didn't.
"I'm not a threat," Gwen said quietly. "But I can be a consequence."
Cody swallowed. Not out of fear—but out of respect. He knew Gwen didn't speak lightly.
—
"I'm with you. Not her. And I'm not backing down," Cody said.
Gwen nodded, without looking at him. Not because she doubted it—but because she had already decided how to handle it. And in her mind, Izzy had just crossed a line that doesn't get erased with excuses.
The mess hall was starting to empty. Half-eaten plates, abandoned trays, and the murmur of the last few campers leaving behind an atmosphere of routine. Gwen stood up without hurry, her gaze still fixed on Izzy, who now seemed more interested in her apple than anything else.
Cody stood too, picking up his tray with slow movements, as if thinking through every step he had to take.
"I'm going to talk to a few girls. There are things I need to clear up," Cody said.
Gwen glanced at him sideways. She didn't say anything. Just nodded—like someone who knows that respect is also measured by what you allow.
Cody left the mess hall, and just as he was crossing the doorway, he saw Lindsay about to leave. She walked with her head down, shoulders tense, like she was trying not to be seen.
"Lindsay," Cody said, catching up with a quick step.
She stopped, turned slowly, and looked at him with an expression that wasn't anger—but wasn't neutral either. There was something held back in her eyes, like she was hoping he wouldn't say anything… or that he'd say everything.
"Can we talk?" Cody asked.
Lindsay looked at him for a few seconds. Then nodded, wordlessly.
"Not here," she said.
They walked in silence, away from the mess hall, from the noise, from the stares. The camp stretched toward a quieter area, where the trees offered shade and the sounds were softer. Neither of them spoke. Cody walked with his hands in his pockets. Lindsay trailed a step behind, as if still unsure she wanted to follow.
They reached a large tree, with wide branches and roots that jutted out like stone fingers. Cody sat first, leaning his back against the trunk. Lindsay hesitated for a few seconds, then sat too—at a cautious distance.
The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was heavy. Like the words were waiting for permission to come out.
The tree offered shade, but not shelter. Lindsay sat cross-legged, arms wrapped around her knees, like she was holding herself together from the inside. Cody settled beside her, without touching, without intruding. The silence was thick, like the air knew something important was about to be said.
"I saw you with Gwen," Lindsay said.
Cody turned his head slowly—not surprised, but careful.
"You were holding her hands," Lindsay said.
Cody looked down at his own hands, as if he could still feel Gwen's warmth. He didn't answer right away. Just stared at them, resting quietly on his legs.
"It's serious now," Cody said. "She's my girlfriend."
Lindsay didn't react immediately. But something in her face cracked. It wasn't dramatic. It was subtle. A twitch at the corner of her mouth. A longer blink. And then, her eyes began to well up.
"It's not fair," Lindsay said.
Cody looked up, alert.
"It's not fair," Lindsay repeated. "What happened at the lake… didn't mean anything to you?"
"Lindsay…" Cody said, unsure how to continue.
"It's not fair. You're so kind. Caring. You make us laugh. You make me happy. I like you just as much as Gwen does. So… why her and not me?" Lindsay said.
Cody swallowed hard. He didn't have an answer that wouldn't hurt. He didn't have an answer that wasn't unfair.
"Is it because I'm not very smart?" Lindsay asked.
Cody tensed. He saw her shrink a little, like she was turning on herself. He leaned in, gently but firmly holding her arms.
"It's not that," Cody said. "You don't have to be smart. You're perfect the way you are."
Lindsay looked at him, surprised by the tone.
"You're beautiful. Funny. Interesting. You have amazing eyes. And an incredible figure," Cody said.
Lindsay blushed. Not out of flirtation—but from the unexpected intensity of his words.
"Then… why Gwen and not me?" Lindsay asked.
The silence froze Cody. He couldn't say Gwen had been his fantasy since childhood. He couldn't say he'd dreamed of her before even arriving at camp. He couldn't say that, in part, it was a story he'd always wanted to live.
"You don't feel anything for me?" Lindsay asked.
Cody took a deep breath. He couldn't lie. He didn't want to.
"Yes. Of course I feel things for you. I care about you. I really do. What happened at the lake… I can't pretend there's nothing there," Cody said.
Lindsay looked at him, eyes still wet—but more open. As if those words were a rope keeping her from falling.
"But I'm with Gwen now. And I want to respect that," Cody said.
Lindsay looked down. She didn't cry. But her breathing grew heavier.
"What if I'd gotten to you before Gwen did?" Lindsay asked.
Cody didn't answer. Because deep down, he knew that if Lindsay had kissed him first, if she had taken that step before Gwen… maybe he would've said yes. Maybe he would've started something serious with her. But that wasn't something he could admit. Not now. Not like this.
"Are you going to stay away from me?" Lindsay asked.
"No," Cody said. "You're special to me. If you need me, I'll be there. Always."
Lindsay smiled. It wasn't a full smile. It was a mix of relief and sadness. She leaned in, hugged him tightly, and before he could react—she kissed him.
It wasn't shy. It was passionate. Like she wanted to leave a mark that words couldn't erase.
"Not again…" Cody thought.
They pulled apart. Lindsay looked at him, eyes shining—but steady.
"I'm not giving up," Lindsay said. "I'm going to prove I'm better than Gwen."
Cody opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
"I respect her. But this isn't over. Get ready to fight," Lindsay said.
She stood, brushed the dust from her clothes, and walked back toward camp. Cody watched her go, heading toward where Beth was. She didn't run. She didn't cry. She walked with purpose.
Cody stayed under the tree, staring at the sky. There were no answers up there.
Only questions he couldn't avoid.
—
The girls' cabin was quiet, except for the soft rasp of a nail file working with precision. Heather sat on her bunk, one leg crossed over the other, focused on applying black polish with near-surgical skill. The sunset light filtered through the window, casting a golden hue that contrasted with her indifferent expression.
Cody paused at the doorway, hesitating for a second. Heather saw him from the corner of her eye and let out a dry, brief laugh.
"Here to ask for fashion tips or just admire my talent?" Heather said.
Cody stepped inside without answering, sat on the edge of the opposite bunk, mimicking her posture—though with less elegance.
"I'm not here to play," Cody said.
Heather raised an eyebrow, still painting.
"So serious. Is this about the kiss?" she asked.
Cody nodded, no hesitation.
"What was that, Heather? What were you trying to do?" Cody asked.
Heather finished the last nail, blew on them with diva flair, then looked at him directly.
"To provoke. Isn't it obvious?" Heather said.
Cody leaned in slightly, searching for something beyond the surface answer. Heather held his gaze, but for a split second—barely noticeable—her cheeks flushed with a faint blush.
"Just provoke?" Cody asked.
Heather shrugged.
"Maybe I wanted to see if Gwen got jealous. Or if you got confused. Or if the world caught fire. Who knows?" she said.
Cody sighed. He wasn't angry, but he was resolute.
"I'm with Gwen now. What happened at the dance… can't happen again," Cody said.
Heather looked at him with a crooked smile, like she didn't fully believe his words.
"And what if it wasn't just provocation?" Heather said.
Cody tensed, but didn't back down.
"Then it's more serious. Because I'm not available," Cody said.
Heather stood, walked slowly to her mirror, studying her reflection like it was more interesting than the conversation. But her tone shifted—lower, more calculated.
"You know what's funny about pawns, Cody? Sometimes they think they're moving on their own. But someone else already decided their fate," Heather said.
Cody stood too, not aggressive, but firm.
"I'm not your pawn. And I won't be part of your games," Cody said.
Heather turned, looked at him with a mix of mockery and something harder to define. Maybe respect. Maybe curiosity.
"We'll see," Heather said.
Cody headed for the door, but before leaving, he paused.
"I don't know what you're planning, but I won't betray Gwen. Or myself," Cody said.
Heather didn't reply. She just watched him go, her expression not entirely cold. When the door closed, she sat back on her bunk, staring at her freshly painted nails.
"This is just beginning," she murmured.
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the sky was beginning to darken. She thought of Gwen, of Cody, of the dance. Of that kiss that, even if she claimed was just provocation, had left a mark she couldn't ignore.
And though Heather wasn't one to blush easily, the memory brought a faint warmth to her cheeks. Not from love. Not from tenderness. But because, deep down, she knew there was something in Cody she couldn't fully control.
And that… intrigued her.
—
The dock was quiet, as if the lake knew something important was about to be said. Bridgette sat at the edge, bare feet skimming the water, her hair tied in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder. The sun was setting, painting the sky in warm tones that contrasted with the calm expression on her face.
Cody approached with steady steps. He wasn't here to reflect. He was here to speak.
Bridgette saw him coming, but didn't move. She just looked at him with a mix of curiosity and something deeper.
"Here to close something?" Bridgette asked.
Cody sat beside her, not touching, but close.
"Yes," Cody said.
Bridgette nodded, like she already knew.
"Is it Gwen?" Bridgette asked.
"Yes," Cody said. "I'm with her now. I wanted you to hear it from me. Not through rumors. Not through vague gestures."
Bridgette looked down at the water. Her face didn't change much, but her fingers tensed against the dock's wood.
"And what about us?" Bridgette asked.
Cody took a deep breath.
"It was real. What I felt with you… what we shared… I won't deny it. But I'm with Gwen now. And I want to respect that. I don't want to play with anyone. I don't want to hurt you," Cody said.
Bridgette stayed silent for a few seconds. Then looked at him, her expression not angry—but quietly sad.
"What if I don't want to close anything?" Bridgette said.
Cody looked at her, surprised by the firmness in her voice.
"I don't want to be a shadow. I don't want to be a memory tucked away in a box. I feel things too, Cody. And I won't pretend you don't matter to me," Bridgette said.
Cody tried to respond, but she cut him off.
"You know what hurt most? That you didn't tell me sooner. That you waited for everything to settle before coming to draw lines. Like I was a footnote," Bridgette said.
"You're not that. You never were," Cody said.
Bridgette looked at him intensely.
"Then prove it. Not with words. With respect. With presence. With honesty," Bridgette said.
Cody nodded, feeling the weight of her words.
"I don't want this to turn into a war. I don't want you and Gwen to fight over me," Cody said.
Bridgette smiled—but not sweetly. It was a firm smile.
"I won't fight Gwen. But I won't give up either. Not because I want to win. But because what I feel doesn't vanish just because you made a choice," Bridgette said.
Cody looked down. There was no way to respond without hurting someone.
Bridgette leaned in, gently held his face, and kissed him. It wasn't impulsive. It was a kiss that said, "I'm here, and I won't disappear easily."
Cody didn't return the kiss. But he didn't pull away either. When they parted, Bridgette looked at him—eyes bright, but steady.
"Now you know where I stand. And I know where you do. But this isn't over," Bridgette said.
She stood, brushed off her shorts, and walked down the dock without looking back. Cody stayed seated, watching the water reflect the shifting sky.
—