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Dreamless, Spencer hadn’t had a good night of sleep since she had gotten here twisting back and forth in her bed restless. The first days, Spencer had just blamed it on the quality of the bed believing they intentionally kept them ratty and rusty squeaking at every slight movement to easily monitor the ‘at-risk’ kids. Meaning, the lesbians and gay teens who had been shipped off by their parents to cure them when all they had done was send them off to a fantasy camp full of people that they knew they could hit on all day long, even if their permisicious ways had to be even more discreet than before around conselors. She knew she was pissing her roommate off, noting the deadening features on her face fade day by day as she tried to hide it with her heavy black eyeshadow. She never complained to Spencer as of yet however, waking up every morning to her looking down at her out of the corner of her eye pretending to be asleep, herself pretending that she hadn’t felt Spencer’s easy eyes resting on her at least half an hour ago.

"You sleep?" The heavy voice, groggy from the little sleep she had, throaty naturally. Her bed heaved with a relief as the girl stood to her feet raising her hands above her head, stretching every muscle in her body as she raised her hands rising on the balls of her feet holding the stance for a few moments before she dropped. "Just coming around." Spencer answerly lightly on top of her breath, hidden up to her chin in covers holding the cloth right up against her neck trying to hide the smile she had when her roommate had finally rose. Having someone to talk to was better than sitting in the dark all night or having to spill her feelings to her ‘monitors’.

Tradition intact, Spencer slid upwards in her bed resting her back against the wall a quick smile coming just as she was able to lock eye contact with her through her darkened clumps of hair disheveled from bedrest though when she had finally prepared herself for the day it had made very little difference. "Ah, well better get a move on. Don’t want to keep them waiting." A coy smile wrapped around Spencer as she curled into her knees looking up at Charlie with big brown eyes, still feeling green in their daily routine. Charlie was attractive, very attractive, and the girl was aware of it. She considered herself to be one of those gifts to lesbianism, the exact opposite to the cliche butch persona middle America imagined. Charlie reminded Spencer so much of Ashley, only a more medicated version. She didn’t know how she’d done it, but the girl had enough weed stashed in their cabin to supply Los Angeles hardest users a good high for weeks.