𝐶𝐴𝑀𝑃 𝑇𝐻𝑂𝑅𝑁 𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿 | 𝐹𝐸𝐴𝑅 𝑆𝑇𝑅𝐸𝐸𝑇: 1978 ✔︎

A Needed Conversation

Camp Thorn Hill — Post Attempted Massacre
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It's not long before Tommy and I are seated at the back of an ambulance. Jess had come up to me a bit earlier and given us huge hugs, worried about the both of us. As for Tommy, the brunet had just gotten his stomach cleaned and wrapped by an EMT, and now we're just making quiet conversation.

My ankle is still pretty messed up, but the EMTs put it in sort of a brace for now, until my Mom gets here and can take me to an actual hospital. They've given me a set of crutches, which is actually more helpful than I expected.

Before we can discuss anymore, another EMT interrupts our talk. "Hey, kid. I couldn't help but notice that slash across your cheek. Don't worry, you don't need stitches or anything. But maybe you could head to the communal bathrooms and fix yourself up. No reason to sit here doing nothing." She smiles. I hadn't noticed a slash on his face until now. It's not deep at all but he was a bit blood stained.

"Sure thing. Thanks." Tommy mumbles before standing up. The blond turns to me. "You coming with?"

I glance down at my ankle, but for some reason, I don't hold a thought behind my eyes. I hop up from the ambulance and use my crutches to hold myself up. "Yeah."

As we walk, I begin to think about Tommy. This whole night I've been.. feeling a certain way towards him. He's so brave and he cares about me, so so much. And the same goes for him. I realized tonight that I care about him so much, I'd literally tackle a killer while having a broken foot.

The thoughts consuming me float away as we enter the bathroom. The restroom's fluorescent lights flicker a bit when we reach the sinks. Tommy grabs a paper towel and runs some water over it. After a moment, he holds it to his cheek bone and aggressively wipes. I hear him hiss through his teeth and I can't help but cringe at his attempt of cleaning it.

"Tommy." I stammer out. He turns to me for a split second. "Yeah?" I just roll my eyes jokingly. "There's... probably a better way of doing that. Less painful way."

Tommy just raises a brow, waiting for me to go on. I huff out a breath before subconsciously grabbing the damp paper towel from him. Stepping closer, I carefully grab the side of his face and place the paper towel back on his wound. Only this time, I use a dabbing motion rather than a wipe.

"It's slower this way but it removes the dry blood just about the same." I say, focusing on his face.

The brunet seems to slowly nod, trying not to move too much. "You uh... you know a lot about this? Like medical stuff?" He makes conversation. I shrug. "Not really, but I help clean any scrapes or scratches the kids get during camp. I'm not an expert but I know what the nurse taught me."

After a moment, I remove the paper towel from his face and examine the wound. Still visible, but no longer bloodied. All that's left to do is get a bandaid from the ambulance.

Now that I'm standing here, I'm sorta realizing how close Tommy and I are right now. We make brief eye contact before I stare down at my fidgety hands.

How do I feel about this? Mostly, it's making me nervous. Whether that be from how much more intimidating Tommy is or the fact that I'm convinced he confessed to me in the woods.

"Hey, shrimp." He catches my attention. My eyes shoot back up to his and we're back to the extremely close eye contact. "Yeah?"

"Y'know... I really am sorry if I ever hurt your feelings this summer. I guess part of me did kinda know that things might get to you. But you always seem so strong-willed so I didn't think little jokes would hurt." A sympathetic smile spreads across his face, revealing a small dimple on his cheek. Shaking my head, I let out a sigh. "It's really okay. I still had loads of fun this summer, and even if my feelings were hurt, Jess always knew how to cheer me up."