I have risen! As always I have concealed RENT lyrics within the story. Have fun and I hope you enjoy the latest and shamefully overdue installment.

Maureen turned and looked down into a jumble of frizzy, black curls. She smirked slightly as Joanne's eyes widened at the sudden proximity of her ample chest. Then the smirk faded from her lips as Joanne tilted her head up and met Maureen's eyes in a level gaze. An unseen force at the small of her back shifted Maureen even closer to the other girl.

She doesn't wear any makeup Maureen mused to herself, a little ruefully. Her skin looks so smooth…

A curl broke free from the pins meant to restrain it and flopped straight down between Joanne's eyes. She grimaced at the sudden itch, but she couldn't scratch. Sticking out her lower lip she blew straight up in an attempt to dislodge the offending hair. Maureen shivered slightly as the cool breath skimmed her face. They were that close.

"Mmm, minty," she whispered, and heard Joanne's breath catch slightly.

Suddenly the hand clasping tight to Maureen's left tugged. She let herself be moved, away from Joanne and found herself pressed back into a firm body. She smiled and snuggled, grinning up over her right shoulder.

"Heya Rog."

"Maureen," he returned playfully.

Maureen looked up again as a large arm descended over her and Roger's head, coming to rest snug against her belly. She glanced over at the owner of the arm. Collins loomed up to Roger's left.

"This is a stupid game," cam Marks' voice from somewhere in the vicinity of the back of Roger's knee.

"I agree." Mimi's voice was slightly muffled, her arms stretched taut on either side of Collins' broad frame, her face planted squarely in his back.

"Hey now, it isn't so bad," Roger countered lightly, grinning down at Maureen and missing Mark's glare from behind him.

"Easy fro you to say," Angel said, sounding pained. "I don't think arms are meant to bend this way. Look!" Everyone looked and winced sympathetically.

"We aren't the only ones having trouble, are we?" Maureen asked, frowning. "Because that would just be embarrassing."

"No," Joanne said, twisting to look around them as much as her own position would allow. "No one else is anywhere near done. Of course everyone else's knots have ten people, not seven."

"Well, obviously that just wasn't going to be an option, was it?" Mimi pointed out, glaring over to where, several yards away, a beseeching Benny was attempting conversation with a gum-popping Allison.

"Regardless, for the sake of Angel's poor arm, we need to finish this," Collins said.

They all fell silent.

"Maybe if I just…" Maureen began.

"No!" everyone else chorused.

"Maureen, last time you "justed", I ended up between Collins' legs." He smiled up at the other boy. "No offense, but I would at least have to know you better."

"Isn't that the point of this? Knowing each other better?" Angel pointed out wryly.

"These people are pervs," Mark grumbled.

"Moving on!" Joanne spoke up firmly. "Everyone, stay where you are for right now. Collins, you help me figure this out." He nodded. They surveyed the jumble.

"Well if I went under Roger's arm…"

"And then you and Angel stepped over Mark's arm…"

"And you ducked under Maureen's…"

"No, it would have to be over Maureen's."

"Right, over Maureen's and under Roger's…"

"And then Mark stepped over his own arm…"

"Then I go over your arm and under Roger's arm and we're done!" Collins finished triumphantly.

Just then a breeze wafted one of Maureen's curls into Roger's nose. He sneezed into her head.

"AAAHHH!!!" Maureen broke her connections and leaped clear of the circle, batting at her hair. "! Roger!"

"I'm sorry!" he gasped, eyes wide. He stepped forward to help Maureen.

"Ow!" Mimi yelped as one of her already stretched arms was tugged by Roger. Roger stepped back hurriedly and tripped over Mark, sending them both to the ground and dragging Mimi and Angel along with them. Collins caught Angel just before he hit the ground and lifted him clear of the pile. He, along with Joanne, took several steps clear of the mess.

Benny and Allison wore almost identical look of disbelief and scorn, and the rest of the camper's attention had shifted to the hapless seven. Collins bowed deeply, Angel still in his arms. Maureen, recovered from her ordeal, grinned and followed suit. Joanne just shook her head, smiling, and turned back to the three on the ground.

Mark lay, slightly stunned where Roger had fallen on him. Roger himself looked rather pleased as he noted Mimi had landed across his chest. They all got to their feet gingerly.

"Well," Mimi remarked, looking around. "We won."

POPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP

"You won't throw up, you won't throw up!" Roger insisted.

"No way," Angel said. "I had a bad experience with marshmallows when I was younger. I won't eat them."

"He ate an entire bag," Mimi said. "It wasn't pretty."

It was one of the darkest nights any of them had ever experienced, being city-dwellers. The entire camp was split up among three huge camp fires, and the seven of them lounged on a huge blanket spread across the grass. Benny and Allison were nowhere to be seen. The unspoken decision between the seven campers and two counselors to leave be and only interact when strictly necessary was holding steady.

Mark swatted a mosquito frantically. Maureen glanced at him.

"You okay, honey?"

"Why are they all landing on me!" he asked, "I'm using the same stuff as the rest of you."

"You must taste good." Roger said. Maureen gasped and flung her arms around Mark.

"Hey, back off, you disgusting bugs! Only I get to taste Mark!"

They all fell silent for a second.

"Alrighty then…" Mimi said finally. They cracked up.

"Here, Mark, take my sweater," Angel said. "It'll at least cover up more of your skin."

"But won't you be cold?"

Angel's face remained neutral, but his eyes twinkled. "Don't worry about it."

Mark took the proffered sweater, still looking doubtful. Moments later, Collins wrapped large arms around the now-shivering Angel and pulled the smaller boy back to nestle into him and his warmth. Angel beamed with satisfaction and Collins smiled goofily as the others hid giggles.

They all talked quietly for a couple more minutes. Then everyone jumped as Mr. Grey's voice came booming over the loudspeaker, telling the campers that it was time for bed.

"Can't we sing something?" A girl from another cabin piped up. There were a couple groans, but most people cheered.

"And your name is, dear?" Mr. Grey asked, peering out over the crowd.

"Gloria, sir."

"Does everyone want to sing something before bed?" Again, most people cheered, the seven friends included.

"Alright then, one song, Gloria. What song?"

Maureen leaned over to whisper to Collins. He smiled and nodded. The two of them started singing, loudly but still skillfully.

"Ain't no mountain high, ain't no valley low!"

"Ain't no river wide enough, baby!" chorused the others. The rest of the camp joined in. Everyone sang and swayed, and Mark ran his camera the whole time.

POPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP

"Twenty minutes until all lights out!" Mr. Grey announced when the singing was over. They all stood up and gathered the blanket and various other things. Mimi staggered slightly under the weight of a large cooler Allison had insisted they bring, but hadn't wanted to be burdened with.

"Can you make it?" Roger asked her, real concern peeking through amusement. She smiled and hefted the thing higher.

"You betcha." The two of them stood awkwardly for a second.

"Well, good-bye. Good-night," Roger said finally, resting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing slightly, before turning to join Collins and Angel, who stood close, waiting for the others to leave for their cabin. Mimi watched him, her face projecting only bemusement, before hiking up the cooler again and joining Joanne, also waiting for the others in order to leave.

Maureen said good-night to Mark in her usual fashion before he managed to extricate himself and depart. Neither group said much as they made for their cabins; they were all too sleepy. As they each tucked themselves into the unfamiliar beds, the unvarying last thought before drifting off was: This is going to be a better week than I thought…

I'll try not to disappear this time.