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</div><span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"> A smile from her busmates and the prompting to head out first led Anna to step off the bus first, her purple carry-on in tow behind her matching, similarly obnoxious pump-heels. She was adorned in all sorts of vibrant shades; a pink scrunchie held back her long hair, the shade matching that of her dress, hot pink shoes, bright blue socks that matched the belt cinching her waist. She looked almost like a Barbie doll, fresh out of the packaging- if Barbie had decided her mall attire was acceptable for a six week woodsy camp with Daddy's money in her pocket. <br/>
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At least the pep in her step wasn't denounced as she carefully descended the stairs to the gravel below. Anna didn't want to break her ankle on her first day (or at all, but imagine tripping in front of everybody! How embarrassing would <i>that </i>be?), so she took extra care when navigating the semi-uneven terrain to meet with the counselors. Somebody had to help her with her bags- they wouldn't just throw her out there to drag them all herself, would they? That would just be absurd for a camp of such prestige. She was the first one out, leaving her beaming at the matching counselors, then towards the busses. There was a clog of some sort, but after a minute the others on her bus started to exit, as well! A swarm of the rich and beautiful, as far as she was concerned. The optics alone of attending Camp Gifford was sure to land each and every participant somewhere cushy after graduation. Maybe she'd meet another author? Or someone that could help her come up with a cover? Anna had never been too artistically inclined, so she was salivating at the opportunity to make the connections promised in the brochures. <br/>
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Her attention was quickly drawn back to the counselors, though, as one started addressing the budding crowd. That woman's grin was certainly contagious. Anna found herself shifting in her heels with excitement, her painted nails drumming a happy little rhythm against the handle of her roller. It was all so thrilling, she could almost ignore the goosebumps rising up on her arms from the cold morning air. Anna applauded when instructed to clap, doing so rather enthusiastically despite her otherwise drowsy, travel-worn state. Maybe she could slip in a nice little nap before the counselors made them do anything. Those camp shirts looked pretty comfortable, but she decided that, should she be forced to wear one, it would only make for a decent bedshirt instead of anything to be caught dead in. <br/>
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Anna's mind wandered as the woman continued to speak. What was her name, again? Something with a C, she caught that much. Her daydreams of rest had let all those words go in one ear and right out the other. Something about the cabins. When the counselor asked if there were questions, she looked around to the other campers- was anyone else going to ask? God, she didn't want to be the first one to speak up. Her smile fell into a neutral, slightly worried line, but after a minute of tensely waiting, she raised a hand. <br/>
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"So like, is there some free time coming up?" Even if she just stole an hour snooze, it was better than drudging through her day in such a haze. The greys of England felt like they'd clogged up her brain and traveled to Washington with her. The fresh air was doing her worlds of good already, but she wanted to be as present as possible for the next half a dozen weeks to make the most of it. Anna wondered if there would be group activities, like in those summer camps she used to go to when she was younger. A little macaroni art would definitely help stir up those creative juices. It was an absurd thought, of course, but what was more fun than just a little absurdity? She could gift it to one of those cute guys. Who knew. The camp was her oyster, and she was dead set on finding her pearl, whatever what- or <i>who</i>- that may be. </span>