InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Whitewater ❯ The Summer Controversy ( Chapter 1 )

Whitewater
by Vii

One: The Summer Controversy

Guys are pricks.

I know, I know. That's not a great sentence to start out with, or give first impressions on, but it was how I met the biggest jerk on this half of the world (the other one is currently residing on the other half). But if he's the biggest jerk, then it would be okay to start out like that, right?

Actually, no. Because like everything else, it turned out that I was going to be stuck with this guy for a long while. Too close for comfort if you ask me. So what was a girl like me-newly entered into the adult world at the ripe age of twenty-one and certified graduate from Stanford with parents as rich as anything-doing as a counselor for brats at a summer camp?

I really don't know, but I know it was my fault and it sort of started out like this, at the midpoint of everything.

Grandfather wanted me to settle down with 'my man' and start breeding grandchildren. My mother wanted me to go to medical school and become a doctor. My stepdad wanted me to wrap up her major and follow him into the business. Little brother Souta just loved to make snide remarks about me becoming a housewife with a family of seven and working a dot com company while running my own hospital at night.

Frankly, I was just confused. And irritated-you can't forget that. But when you were home schooled for just about your entire life and took courses from Stanford since your sixteenth birthday (and a probable genius to boot), these annoying topics concerning your future were more or less showed up frequently.

Things were almost normal for me before my sixteenth birthday. Back then, I was just an average Japanese girl from Tokyo. Sure I was home-schooled by a single mother. Sure I lived in a Shrine with a high-wired grandfather and had an annoying little brother (didn't everyone?). But my life was pretty decent. Then her mom met Laurent. Okay, no problems.

Or actually, there was a few.

First off, Laurent-as his name suggested-wasn't entirely Japanese. No, he was just half. The rest was French, through and through. So of course he didn't live in Japan; he was just visiting. But he didn't live in France, either. Nope, Laurent lived in America: California to be precise.

While this didn't concern me a bit at the beginning, things changed pretty fast. Or should I say, mom and my new father moved pretty fast. Before I knew it, the family was shipped of to California and I was speaking English in her sleep. It was a relief to talking calculus at night, at least.

But this was all beside the point. You see, after entering Stanford at the age of sixteen, I had been studying there for almost five years, talking a wide range of courses. But now I was stuck, and it was here that the whole annoying future thing came into play again. With credits in med, business, and other various things I wasn't quite interested in, I was more than ready to take a big, long break from the books. Hell, I wanted to drop the books for two years and go cruising the Atlantic or something else a ludicrous.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), whoever's watching up there never lets you live up to these dreams. See, because of a brazen statement just a few months back, I had managed to get my allowance cut off and just about every other form of family money-lending options wiped out. There was only one choice now: get a job. And who else better to get suggestions from other than my own, sweet father?

Of course, it wasn't quite so easy breaking the news to him.

"You want a job."

I nodded again for what was at least the seventh time that day. "Yes," I repeated. "I want a job. And yes, it also means I'm putting everything on hold." When he continued staring at me with no apparent response, I added, "Just for the summer. I promise." I even held up my right hand to swear on it.

Laurent broke into a smile. "I was waiting for you to come around! Studying hard is all fine, but you need to get some experience. Hands on, you know?"

I nodded mutely, surprised by the well-received action. "If you were so happy about this, why make me repeat myself for the past half an hour?"

"Oh, that was because I thought you were really going to drop out and work at one of those cheap summer camp places." I paused. I actually had been considering that option, but since he brought it up... "Good, now if you'll just give me a minute, I'm sure I could whip up something for you to do at the company."

"Uh, Laurent?"

"Hmm?"

"Iwasactuallyplanningtoworkasacounselor." The words came out all jumbled together in my nervousness. Laurent was a easy going as anyone could be, but when you dropped the bomb like that, things generally tended to go the way you didn't want it to go.

"Pardon? I don't think I caught that." He beamed at me again.

Nope, that didn't daunt me one bit. I took a deep breath and started over. "I just had my birthday a bit ago-you know, I'm twenty-one now, legal drinking age and all that." I giggled loudly, which came out more than a bit stressed. "Uh, anyway, I wanted to really do something other than...well, what I usually do. So the other day, when I went to get you at the company, I overheard this one person talking about this camp for adolescents his brother was at, and how they needed someone to fill in." I sort of trailed off right there.

Laurent waited patiently, tapping feet on the ground. He was still smiling, though not as genuinely as before. "Continue," he motioned. "You want to do this? You want to forsake your years of going to University for a job at some childrens' camp?"

"For the summer? Basically."

He sighed, but relented. "Okay, I guess this is like that time I ran away from home. After all, you're an adult now, and we can't keep you here forever. Go, have fun."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I don't know why you bothered to ask permission anyway. It's your life after all." He resumed typing at the laptop, this time closing a few windows before continuing. "Oh, and if you ever need the money, you're accounts are always open. I took the liberty to put in some money for your birthday."

I leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek. "Thanks. Just please don't tell grandpa. He'll be crushed that I'm going to help children instead of some young man that can take advantage of me or something."

My stepdad chuckled. "Tell him? I wouldn't dream of it. But you'll probably meet someone-what about the other counselors?"

"Like that'll happen." Sadly, that's exactly what did.

But this is all the boring stuff, so let's fast forward to the day I arrived at the little niche of the Sierra Nevadas I was going to make home from May to September. Have I mentioned that I driving through the mountains? Let me tell you, maneuvering through narrow, winding, roads with only a metal bar separating your car and a 70,000 foot fall does not help keep lunch in. Neither do five hours of straight driving, half the time on those exact roads, for that matter.

Which was why I felt such relief when I finally reached the place my map had informed me was the small tourist town nearest to the Camp. Town my butt. It was actually a collection of stores and a parking lot in front of a beach which charged seven bucks for parking.

As you can most likely tell, I wasn't in the best of moods right then. But again, things went downhill from there once again. And as I was currently pretty high up in the mountains, it was a pretty big drop. Upon flipping through the pamphlet again, I blanched to learn that no cars were allowed in the actual camp area. Meaning, I couldn't just drive there to drop off my truckload of necessities.

So I vouched for the next best thing. I mean, what's the use of having money if not to waste it on a job that's suppose to make you money? Okay, I admit it. I was stuck big time. But then a savior with a his smooth black hair tied in a small ponytail arrived, and catching me staring in horror at the pamphlet offered to help.

"You need any help?"

I looked up and stared into violet eyes. "Wow. Neat eyes."

He flashed a bemused smile. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He leaned against my borrowed jeep, now in dire need of a washing. "So, are you one of the campers or something? You're here awfully early."

"Huh?" I turned from staring at the dust on the car to watch him again. "Camper? Oh no, I'm the new counselor for Camp Whitewater."

He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous twinkle appearing in his eye. I should have known something was wrong by then, but I didn't. "Really? You're awfully good looking to be one. How old are you?-Seventeen, nineteen at the most."

Needless to say, I blushed. "No, I'm actually twenty-one."

He rubbed his hands together in apprehension. "That's great; now I have a great looking lady to accompany me when I sneak out to Vegas."

I laughed. "Are you a counselor, too, then?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Been stuck babysitting since I was old enough to walk. The parents really know how to get it on." Okay, I didn't need to know that, but what the heck. "Anyway, you need any help?" he offered again, jabbing a finger towards the trunk.

I caught myself staring again. "Uh, yeah." I moved past him to get my keys, bending to reach for the chain I left on the hood. I felt a hand on my backside. I yelped and pulled away, stumbling over a log in the process. At the end, I was sitting on my butt with the man standing over me, staring down my top with wide, innocent eyes.

"Real sorry about that, uh-"

"-Kagome. Kagome Higurashi." He offered a hand to help me up, and fool that I was, took it automatically. He tugged me up with a bit too much momentum and I ended up falling again. This time on him. Still fazed by the first fall, not to mention the second, I sat there, straddled on him. Naturally, the pervert's hand was roaming again. This time I kneed him before climbing up in a huff.

Brushing myself off once in a standing position, I glared down at him. "What are you, some kind of molester?"

"No, Miroku's just a horny fool that chases everything with two legs in a skirt."

The comment made me self conscious, and I looked down at my own attire. Yup, I was still wearing the jean skirt I had donned just this morning. "Drag queens included?"

A pause on the other side. "Yeah, drag queens included."

I snorted. "Guys are such pricks." Then I frowned, realizing I still didn't know who had spoken. Whirling around, I turned to come face to face with a young man, looking at me with blatant irritation.

"Would you like to repeat that?" I continued staring. What with his platinum hair brushing down his back and eyes of liquid amber, he was already a sight. Not to mention his well-toned body under the loose red shirt and the twitching dog ears set on the top of his head which defined him as youkai. My stomach did a summersault, butterflies and all.

For the second time in under five minuets, I blushed for a guy. Two different guys in five minutes. I was begging to wonder about my hormones... "Uh, sorry. I didn't realize you were the one speaking."

He rolled his eyes at me and turned to walk away. "Whatever, bitch."

What the hell? Here I was, apologizing nicely to him and he just brushed me off and insulted me. "Hey! Come back here-what did you call me?"

"Are you deaf too?" He demanded, pausing just long enough to turn around and give me the finger. By now I was too ticked to do anything but glare after him as he walked up the trail. It was my temper clouding my mind when I didn't realize right away what that meant.

"Don't let him get to you too much; Inuyasha's always like that." So his name was Inuyasha, was it? What a jerk. The I turned again, realizing it was the pervert talking. Apparently, he'd recovered from the blow I'd dealt him. Seeing me resume my glare, he raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry about earlier, but you were just so cute."

My glare dropped a notch, but a large scowl formed. "Okay, okay. I'm going to make it up to you, kay? Here, I'll help you get your stuff to camp. Here, let's start over. I'm Miroku Priest." Her offered his hand again.

I sighed and took it. I was never one to hold a grudge anyway. "Okay," I answered, still eyeing him warily. "But no funny business, understand?" I told him in my most stern tone.

"Crystal." He smiled again and my heart melted. Then I caught myself. How the hell did a pervert like that manage to look so innocent? Scowl returned I opened the trunk, still watching. He moved closer; I edged further. Looking at the contents, he whistled. "Wow, that's a lot of stuff. I'm going to need some help...wait here for a sec, kay?" He left up the trail.

'Help' came in the form of a certain silver-haired jerk. Miroku shrugged. "He's the only one," he explained in ways of an apology. "Inuyasha, I trust you met Kagome already?"

He was ignored as the other man walked over to my car, peering in. "What's the bitch trying to do here-open a beauty salon?"

I felt the sparks stir inside, but I steadied myself. "No, but I think I might need to," I remarked, staring pointedly at him.

"Bitch," he muttered under his breath again and lifted the cooler out, hefting it in both hands.

"That the only word the doggy knows?" I taunted, knowing fully well I shouldn't. What happened after that wasn't pretty. I should have known better than to bait someone carrying my cooler. Picking up splattered food off the forest floor is not the best way to spend the afternoon.

Except I really do feel for Inuyasha. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to clean up coffee stains; especially ones that big. But after the insightful knowledge that Miroku dropped on me after the hanyou had left in a huff, I was really feeling for sorry for myself. Let's just say spilling coffee on the boss's little brother the first day you met him isn't the best start for the summer you're working for them and leave it at that.

A/N: Yes, this is a humor fic, or at least it's going to be one. I'm not really sure how often I'm prepared to update this, but probably weekly if during the summer. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and review to tell me what you think. And if you haven't already, please read my other story, Genuine Fake, and take a look at my Awards Project Protégé @ http://protege.just-in-dreams.com. Just add the forward slashes.