Carly awoke to panicked beating at the door of her apartment.

"Spencer!" She yelled, groggily, "Someone's at the door!"

He replied with an extremely loud, obviously fake, snore.

"Fine," she groaned, tossing her purple and pink covers aside, "I'll be the adult here!"

The alarm clock read 8:30. Way too early for a girl who believed in beauty sleep to be awake, especially on a Saturday. What insane person gets up this early on the weekend? Carly grumbled every step until she reached the door. When she opened it, Mrs. Benson spiraled into the room, tears staining her cheeks.

"Mrs. Be-"

"My boy, he's- he's far too young to-"

Carly grabbed her by the shoulders. She had learned years ago this was the only way to stop a crazy person.

"Mrs. Benson, what's wrong?"

It wasn't the best question, she soon realized afterwards, because Mrs. Benson flung herself onto the couch and practically ripped up Spencer's favorite pillow.

"Freddie," she said finally, nearly five minutes later, "he called me."

Carly wanted to smile. It had taken Freddie almost two months to call his mother. That was an achievement. But she knew this was no time for smiles. Crazy might just wipe it off her face.

"Then what's the problem?"

Mrs. Benson struggled for words. When she found them they jumbled out quickly.

"That horrible camp director's making them survive on their own for a week in the desert! Alone! With barely any food! Why, I have mind to sue that camp. They can't send my poor, poor, pale, weak, sensitive little boy out there in that.. that death trap!"

Carly tensed. "Wait- they? Who's they?"

Mrs. Benson's faced transformed from concerned parent to murderous parent in all but a second.

"Who else? That malicious, vile, horrid, atrocious, repulsive, unspeakable, Sam Puckett, herself."

:*)

The dial tone buzzed loudly in my ear, reminding me patronizingly that my one phone call was over. I was stunned, though I shouldn't have been. I knew right and well that mom would freak out the minute I'd told her about the whole, 'surviving in the desert with Sam-Puckett without adult supervision,' ordeal. Knowing her, she'd send in an entire swarm of helicopters just to rescue me.

After swearing off communication with mom, calling her again had left me with mixed emotions. So, when she answered with her seven o'clock in the morning, buzzed on coffee liveliness, I spilled my guts right then and there.

"Hey, mom, I'm going to be forced to stay alive in the desert for a week with a survival kit and Sam Puckett." I had said, not stopping to take a breath. She replied by yelling, "What!" in my ear. Then she hung up and left the dial tone to keep me company.

"Well, this is just great," I said, just as a girl with leathery tanned skin tapped my shoulder impatiently. She grabbed the phone from me and punched in a few numbers. I stood there awkwardly, forgetting momentarily where I was.

"Um, back off buddy," she growled, shooting me a glare. I rubbed my eyes sleepily. "Sorry," I mumbled, walking towards the digging spot.

"Any luck with your mom?" Link asked me, smiling anxiously as I picked up my shovel and started a new hole.

"Yeah," I said simply, shrugging. I decided not to tell him about the talk, hoping Link would just drop the subject altogether. He didn't.

"Y'know, I haven't seen Sam all day," Link said.

"Good," I shot back, "The day just got a little bit brighter."

Link shrugged and we dug in silence for the next few hours, until Mr. Munroe ordered the campers to head to the dorms.

:+O

I eyed the dust blowing outside a dug-out window in my dorm room. Windows weren't really allowed, but whoever had stayed in the dorm before me must've been a real rebel. Looking out at the desert as the sun began its descent made me think of the hours I spent on the fire escape, listening to the sounds of blaring car horns and ambulances whizzing through Seattle. I watched so many sun sets out there on that ledge..

Watching the far off desert reminded me of the punishment I soon had to endure. Two days..no, technically one. I had one day left of freedom. One day to hunt for treasures with Lincoln. I was going to make the best of it.

The thought of Lincoln sent my eyes dashing across the room, searching for any sign of him. I heard his cough a few rooms away, towards the infirmary. I was really beginning to worry about Link- it seemed if he wasn't digging, he was stuck up in the infirmary, being treated for some mysterious malady. He wouldn't tell me, or anyone else for that matter, what was wrong, he just said he was sick occasionally and sometimes got the chance to opt out on digging days, sometimes weeks.

Did I believe he was just sick? No. It seemed much worse than a sickness, especially if it had lasted this long. Perhaps that's why I found myself digging into his stuff, pulling out his drawers and reading few letters he had received. One of them looked formal and said:

Lincoln,

Your results came in a few days after you left, with no sign of any cancerous cells returning. As far as I can say, you need to take a few more treatments- then you'll be considered a cancer survivor. I hope you fair nicely in the desert. Hopefully you'll rake in that money fast. Your mom seemed really upset about the whole ordeal, but I think you've done the right thing, Lincoln. It was awful brave of you to step up like that. Believe me, if I had any other way to cut down the cost of the chemo I'd offer it. You'll be out of the desert in no time, I'm sure of it. Don't forget to drink plenty of water and take as many days off as needed with your condition. Nurse Gertrude at the camp has received the last of your treatments and is trained to do the job. I'll attach an official excuse paper along with this one, to assure your absence from the field isn't without due cause.

Live life and prosper,

Dr. Drew Tarnszi

I let out an audible gasp, my eyes bulging at the words, "cancer survivor."

"Find what you were looking for?"

Link's harsh tone surprised me. I threw the letter down on his bed and turned to face him. He looked tired, to say the least, but his eyes held a certain flame that told me he wasn't a happy camper.

"I-Uh- you-"

He marched over and jerked the note off his bed and shoved it back into his drawer, slamming it shut.

"You just had to know, didn't you?" He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just couldn't believe me when I said I was fine, huh?"

I wasn't sure what to say. I had never seen him so angry. It just didn't suit him.

"It's cool, whatever," he stormed over to my side of the room, pulling out my drawer. "Let's just see what you're hiding in here."

He ripped open a medium sized envelope that had fallen out of the drawer. A paper flew out of it like a feather and landed softly on the floor. Attached to it was a picture of Sam and me at my last birthday, her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her smile bigger than ever. Below the picture were a few sentences I had memorized by heart:

Frednub,

I know we don't get along all the time, but that's what friends do, I suppose; argue. I'm not gonna' beat around the bush here or anything, so.. Freddie, I like to think of you as a lot of things; my punching bag, potato bag opener, guinea pig, foot stool, shoulder to wipe my hands on, official holder of my chicken when I have to use the bathroom- but most importantly- my best friend. Now, don't let this get to your head, and don't let Carly know I said it. After all, I wrote the same exact thing in her birthday card last year- minus the punching bag part. Okay, well, hope this will suffice for a birthday present, since that's all you're getting.

Oh yeah, happy birthday you big glob of nerd.

-Sam

Lincoln read the note with a slight evil smirk tugging at his lips. When he finished, he looked at me and tsked. "Oh, yeah, looks like you really hate her. Why didn't you tell me you were so close? Hmm? Guess this makes us even then, huh?"

He threw the paper down and got into his bed, sliding the covers up over his face.

I was speechless for a few minutes, but finally forced myself to pick up the letter and place it back in my drawer. Anger was the last thing I was feeling, oddly enough- I think I was all angered out. After spending the last few days in an angry state, feeling that way again would just take too much of my already depleted energy.

I crawled to my bed and forced my eyes to close. Before I nodded off, I whispered, "Sorry," and waited for a reply.

It never came.

Yayay! Another speedy (somewhat?) update! You can't tell- but I'm patting myself on the back right now. I have so many wonderful ideas for this! I can't wait to write the next chapter.. let's just say.. a few surprises are in store! :D

Oh, and if you didn't already see- I changed the genre from friendship to adventure. Just to give you all a little hint as to what the rest of the story entitles...

Okay, enough joyful rambling, thanks for reading and I'll write to you again soon!

-Accidental Laughter

PS. I love being back!