Author's Note: Thank you for sticking with this story. We're getting close to the end of Part I, which will conclude with Chapter 7. Just a quick reminder that there'll be a gap before we pick up with Part II. But there will be a NTIT related story released in the meantime. I've also been debating putting out a Halloween story, but won't if it risks delaying Part II at all. Be sure to check my Author's Page to keep in the loop for all future story developments.
Again, I must give a huge thank you to AuroraAccident. This story wouldn't exist without his permission, and wouldn't be nearly as good as it is without his feedback on the early drafts. Boots, adub, and B1084 have also done tremendous with helping fix things with the story.
As always, any characters in this chapter involved in a sexual scene of any kind are 18+.
6 - Off-Limits
Sunday, August 20, 6:55 AM, Belews Lake Cabin
"
Shut the door
!"
Cleo snickered at the look of bewilderment on Zoe's face as she entered the cabin. Most of the girls were out of bed and in various states of undress. The poor girls hadn't anticipated their new classmate to swing the door wide open, exposing them to the world.
"Sorry," Zoe blushed. "Usually everyone is still asleep by the time I get back."
She looked over at Cleo, who had attempted to sleep through the commotion.
"I'd say you look beautiful," Cleo acknowledged, "But as far as I can tell, this might be your version of slumming it."
She intended it as a compliment, and hoped Zoe interpreted it as such.
"Thank you?"
Cleo smiled and took another look at her tall friend.
"Heels? You sure you wanna risk that with your ankle?"
"Hah, I appreciate the concern. They're under three-inches, I'm not even sure they qualify as heels," Zoe winked. "Besides, it's a church service, I thought it'd be appropriate."
"Yeah, so long as you don't wind up on Kristina's bad side again," Cleo laughed.
Even without knowing she'd be going to church, this girl packed heels to go camping?
"Ugh, don't remind me. I'd break my neck if I tried running in these. Especially across that wetland, we're calling a field."
Cleo had to suppress a chuckle, "So, you're heading off to church with Chris?"
"Uh-huh."
"Cool," Cleo pandiculated, "I think I'm gonna get some rest while you guys are all out."
"Want me to come get you before heading off to breakfast?" She grabbed a shawl from her bag and draped it over her shoulders.
"Wonderful!" Cleo's statement worked as approval for both Zoe's completed look as well as her suggestion. She felt clever and smiled as her head touched down on her pillow again.
_____
"You look fine, dude," Chris said for the fourth time, nearly everyone else had already left the cabin.
Miles forced himself to not roll his eyes.
I would have packed something more conservative if I'd known I was gonna be dragged to church. They're not my beliefs, but I have no intention of being disrespectful of someone else's.
"I just feel like I'm underdressed," he explained.
Jeans and t-shirt worked fine on a casual day, but I'm sure people will be more upset about me showing up in that than they would if I didn't go at all.
He looked at his remaining option.
Not sure if anything would feel more out of place than the leather jacket.
"You washed your button-up. Just go with that."
It's like arguing with a child.
"But it's wrinkly," Miles groaned.
Topher would have been annoyed by this if he didn't find it so amusing.
"Do you think the laundry has an iron?" Miles looked at the shirt he'd laid out on his bed.
"Possibly," Topher contributed.
"Absolutely not!" Chris stated definitively.
"You're just saying that because you don't want to be late."
"No, I do not want to be late. And I don't want everyone to stare at us when we show up late."
"You can't wear that," a familiar voice called from the doorway.
He turned and smiled at his sister.
"Miles, you should wear your button-up from Monday."
"Thank you. Can we go now?" Chris whined.
Miles lifted the shirt up and undid a couple of its buttons.
"Well, that's just as bad," Zoe observed from the door. "Miles, it's all wrinkled. C'mon, let's go see if there's an iron at the laundry."
Miles's satisfied smirk turned Chris's face red with anger. Topher's face also turned red, but from laughing too hard.
"We'll see you in a few hours," Miles called to his bunkmate as he made toward the door.
"Fine," Chris acquiesced, "If we're going to iron that, we should run."
Zoe gestured toward her feet, "I'm not running."
"Ugh, do you just wanna go to the auditorium and save us seats, then? We can run and not be the last ones in."
"Oh no, I'm not going there alone."
"You won't be alone," he pointed. "See there's Pixie and Mel. What about your drummer friends, aren't any of them going?"
"Yeah, okay. I'll go save you guys a couple of seats," she strolled away.
Miles had outpaced Chris on every running activity they had done together for the week, yet Chris shifted into a whole new gear now that he ran the risk of being late for church.
They barreled into the mostly empty laundry room and towards the half-wall separating the main room from the smaller units.
"Ah-hah," Miles cried as his eyes fell upon the ironing board. "See, there's an iron here somewhere."
"There!" Chris pointed.
"Isn't that a vacuum?" Miles frowned and looked closer. "Yeah, see? Dust buster."
"Fascinating," Chris said flippantly as he opened a cabinet.
"I think so," Miles reached for the vacuum. "Quaint little thing from the 1980s-"
"Less talking, more finding," Chris huffed.
Successfully discovering the tool in the third cabinet he checked did little to quell Chris's sullen mood. He shoved the prongs into an available outlet and breathed a sigh of frustration as the amber nub on the side of the device illuminated.
"Guess it works," he said, dissapointedly.
"I'll be quick," Miles assured as he pressed the heating element to the fabric.
"Y'know," Chris's demeanor softened as he watched the creases of the shirt do the same. "Had you told me a week ago that there was a working iron here, I would have accused you of playing a joke on me."
