BR Day 12 - Sunday with Beth

It’s Sunday morning at loser camp.

You didn’t sleep very well. Something about what happened yesterday bugs you. You’re one of the first ones up, and you find Beth in the grungy little dining hall by herself. Everyone’s trying to sleep in while they can, but maybe she had a night like yours. Yesterday was going so well up until that interruption, too.

“Morning, love,” she greets you when you sit down with your breakfast and coffee.

“Morning.” You lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek, but something’s weird. There’s no other word for it than perky. Beth is the perkiest girl you have ever met. It doesn’t matter that she’s your first girlfriend and you would be obsessed with her no matter what, but she really does have some weird perkiness enchantment. It comes out at two times: when she’s playing soccer, and when she’s horny.

Right now she’s giving off those perky vibes, but she’s not horny, and there’s no soccer in sight.

“You okay?” you ask her, picking up your fork.

“Just thinking about yesterday,” she says, giving you a look and a nudge.

“What can I say? You drive me crazy,” you admit.

“Not that!” She smiles and rolls her eyes. “That woman. She mentioned Annette. You know how weird that is.”

“I guess. I don’t know anything about her.”

“I don’t know much either, and I don’t know much about America,” Beth says, leaning on the table and looking thoughtful. She’s already finished eating. She must have been waiting for you; it’s obvious she wants to talk to someone about what’s on her mind. “But I’ve been thinking that this place is peculiar.”

“A camp turning into a reality show? Yeah. Peculiar,” you say with a smile. That’s obvious.

“But all of it. There’s our camp, and then there’s this camp. And I heard some of the others talk about a big house in the woods as well. What is this place, Riley? Why here and not somewhere else? If you were making a football program for the telly, wouldn’t you make bloody sure you had an indoor pitch? If it rains, our main event is canceled. That woman yesterday was talking as though that cave, in particular, was important. Why do FUTA here?”

You try to keep up with all that. It’s hard to concentrate on that when she’s right next to you like this. She just smells like sporty deodorant, but thinking about the crazy sex yesterday and having her so close is distracting.

She’s looking up at you expectantly, all excitement. It’s like she’s happy about this.

“You’re enjoying this,” you observe.

“Don’t you want to know?”

It is weird. You’d rather focus on her, but… not everything can be about you. You cram your horniness back in its box and try to wake up, taking a big drink of coffee.

“I guess,” you begin, trying to think, but you have never been big on thinking. You prefer sports and… horny. “I guess we don’t really know much about Annette, do we?”