a sister who's actions are untamed,
and a brother who's feelings are untamed.
With complete different personalities, yet an awesome bond, the siblings join a summer camp. She plans to fix her problems, he plans to make friends.
But while she's able...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Laughing, this kid, Fry, pushes me further toward the kitchen, his hand on my back. "Stop looking back," he chuckles. "You'll survive without Newt."
I pull a face. "Will I? He's the only one—"
"You will," Fry assures. Well, it's actually Frypan, but both Newt and Fry said to call him Fry. Then he explained it's just a nickname and that is actual name is Siggy, though no one calls him that.
"He'll be drawing your designs and we make the salt clay, yeah?"
"Aren't I supposed to make my own design? And aren't we supposed to make that clay together? Since when does someone else draw what I'll be making from clay? Besides, I'm good at dr—"
"You'll like Thomas," Fry mutters under his breath. "Anyways. The due date for this project is the end of the week, so we ain't got no time to do it all together."
"Can I draw the things?"
"You don't trust Newt's drawing skills?"
"...not really, no."
"Newt's able to draw! Better than me, at least."
Well, yeah, he seems like someone who would be able to draw, but how come we don't sketch our own things? Weird system.
"Alright. How do we make this?"
Fry points at the water, salt, and flour on the counter. "Mix this. We could add dye if we want. Then we make whatever drawings Newt got us."
"Imagine he draws something weird as hell. And then we'll have to make that! We have to show our end projects to Mary, remember?"
"Mary's chill. Don't worry, dude." His smile brightens. "Any plans on how to finish that list yet? Minho and Lelia went out yesterday. They must've completed at least two things already."
I nod, but my eyebrows furrow. "I didn't see them at breakfast. Or today at all."
"Don't mind that. Minho barely ever shows up at breakfast. Either half dead from going out or he got up even before we serve, and already ate."
"You sleep in a hut with her. Was she there this morning?"
"Nope." He shrugs as if he didn't just figuratively press an alarm button in my brain that is now sending red lights everywhere— because yeah, Lelia not showing up at breakfast is such an extreme thing that I should totally worry about it and consider the worse things to have happened.
