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[b][code]The Campsite - Campfire.[/code][/b][hr]


The only thing stopping Claire from tearing into Rita was Zoey, who was trying her damndest to keep her from catching a case.

While Claire was stopped from physically tearing into her, there was nothing stopping her from verbally doing so. Some kid had decided to chime in, and defend her - saying that she was "chill." He must have a pretty fucked up sense of what "chill" is, if chill to him was lacing somebody's joint. "That shit had me seeing shit! I ain't gonna 'calm down', pencil dick!" She roared at Martin, before directing her rage back towards Rita.

The girl seemed terrified of Claire right now - yeah, it was all fun and games until you get in over your head. She couldn't even come up with a good excuse, nor could she even speak straight. It wasn't until she said "I'm sorry" before Claire was sent over the edge.

"Oh, you're about to be sorry, alr-"

Claire was about to lunge at Rita, ready to break bones, but she felt the grab of Zoey on her arm. She yanked Claire far away from Rita as she could. Worryingly saying to her, "Oooooooookay, Claire, how about we go and cool off a bit? I hate to see you tear into that girl." She said, as she pulled Claire away from the campfire... whom begrudgingly went along with it. "See ya'll!"

As they walked off, the campfire was oddly silent - other than the sound of burning fire, of course - as everyone was floored by the display.

"... Hey, who else was looking forward to firecracker tearing the librarian a new one, or am I the only one?!"

[hr]

The two walked off, with Claire downing what was left of the flask, before she kicked over a trash can, yelling, "Ugh!"

"Yo, Claire, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Zoey asked, grabbing Claire by the shoulder, pivoting her around so she can look her in the eye. "You almost scared that girl to death!"

"I don't know... I took one puff of that shit and thought I saw the devil!" Claire said, grabbing both sides of her head. "There was something in that shit."

"Look, mouse-girl probably got ripped and got bad weed from some jag," Zoey said. "Probably not her fault..."

"You're right..." Claire slid the flask in her pocket - she had to return it to Dexter later. "I had enough of Camp Go-Fuck-Yourself... let's just chill in the cabins."

"Yeah," Zoey said with a catty-grin, as she turned, "I got the good weed in my-" However, she bumped into somebody around the same height as her. She said, "Oh, sorry."

But then she looked up, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw who it was. It was a tall male around their age with shaggy hair, and a bit of a beard that was growing in. He had a beer in one hand, and wore a shitty jean jacket with some striped shirt underneath. He had a head of wavy blonde hair in a pompadour, and freckles. Zoey would call him cute...

... If it wasn't the infamous Scott Reese.

"Heeeeeeey, Zoey, what's going on?" Scott asked with a smile. "How's Claire, I saw the commotion with that chick?"

"... Claire's fine, Scott." Claire merely spoke for herself, almost sarcastic. "Just a little... misunderstanding."

"Well, I'm glad you're fine," Scott said, "But I overheard you talking about having fun-"

"No." Claire quick and curtly replied.

"Why are you always giving me the cold shoulder, Claire?" Scott said, annoyed. "You give everyone else action but me."

"Because you're a creep - not just any creep, but an entitled creep!"

"I'm the sheriff's son, you better watch how you talk to me."

"I don't care who you're the son of," Claire snarled. "You and your daddy can go to hell."

Scott lunged at Claire, grabbing her wrist, looking her in the eye as he said, "I'm gonna show you I'm good as everyone else you let in your pants!"

"Hey, let go of me!" Claire shouted, while Zoey was too stunned to even do anything.