Forest Sisters

New friends, new enemies

Ivy's POV

Fuzz. All I hear, all I feel is fuzz. It's like a staticy tv, where all the words are muffled. My whole body feels heavy from sleep, but my left leg feels wide awake. I can feel the blood pumping through my leg, like it's working on something. I don't want to wake up, but my curiosity wins out. I fight to wake up, but it feels like I'm fighting my self, where my body wants to sleep while I want to get up. It's tempting to give up and just float back into the arms of unconsciousness, but I win out in the end.
My eyes flutter open and the light is too much. I react by shutting my eyes tight, but then slowly open them again. At first I have to squint, but soon my eyes adjust. When I can see again, all I see is a plain white sealing. Very interesting, I know. I get up on my elbows and look at my surroundings. There are medical bed around me, some currently in use. The room stinks like a hospital, a mix of chemicals and chlorine. There is a window on the wall, and use can tell that it's still day. Sun rays filter though the window.
I swing my legs out of the bed and find that I am no longer in my one piece blue swimming suit and shorts, but I'm now in a over sized orange t shirt reading 'Camp Half-Blood'. I am also wearing some baggy pants that have stains in them (I do not want to know what those stains are from). I look around, soon finding my knee length shorts on the table. I jump up and grab then, heading towards the door. No one's around, so I slip out into a small hall and look around. I can see a few doors, some open while others seem bolted shut. There are some stairs leading up, while another set are leading down. One of the open doors is luckily a bathroom.
I quickly slip in and start to change my pants. I was putting on my shorts when I notice my left leg. On it are large, deep scars. Memories come flooding back, from the hand pulling me down into the water to the shearing pain of the bear trap snapping sit on my leg with a strong bite. I look down, and sure enough the scars match the size of the metal bear trap.
I poke one of the scars, which is almost as deep as my panicky male, and expect it to hurt, but it doesn't. It feels like my other old scars. I have a couple from the life on the streets, but none as severe as this one. The scar looks faded and doesn't really feel any different from the rest of my leg. I sit there and poke each one, amazed at how deep they are. It's weird. I feel like I'm putting my finger inside my leg. Most people would probably freak out that they have a scar and be afraid to touch it, but it just looks interesting to me. It's like a new ring or bracket, like when you keep fingering it and looking at it, admiring it. The scar even looked cool to me.
I quickly put on my shorts, regretting I didn't wear pants. Yeah, I think to my self, I really should have thought ahead more, considered almost dyeing and being rushed around camp for medical needs. I laugh at that thought.
The reason I wish I had pants on is that I don't like shaving my legs. I've done it a couple of times, never cut my self, but I just don't like it. It doesn't feel natural. Now they doesn't look that bad to me, my hairs are light and blend into my skin, but I've been teased many times about it. Because of that I usually wear longer things to hide my legs. The only time I wear shorts is to go swimming, but now I have to walk across camp to get back to the Hermes cabin. I inwardly groan. After I finish getting my shorts on. I look at my borrowed shirt. It's way too big, but I refuse to walk around camp in my swim suit.
Nothing can be done, so I take a deep breath and slip out of the bathroom. At first I was afraid I'd get lost, but soon find the exit. Let me tell ya', not as hard as I thought. Guess they're used to having ADD people walking around.
The door is open, so I sneak out side. I walk out and put my head down, hoping no one will notice me. I was so lost in thought that I didn't even notice the boy on the steps until I literally tripped over him. I start to fall, putting my arms out in front of me, hoping to break my fall on the hard ground, but before I can hit and look like an even bigger fool a hand whips out and grabs my upper arm. I stop, and just stare at the ground. I'm surprised, not saying I'm not relived to not find my self strolled on the Rocky ground, but I'm still surprised. No one usually cares about the background character falling on her face.
The owner of the hand starts to pull me back to my feet. I find my footing and look back. The owner of the hand is a guy, about a head taller then me. He has blackish, brownish, slightly wavy hair that just barely brushes his ears. It's that kinda long hair that a lot of guys have, but not long enough to put on a pony tail. He has tanned skin and keen, Brown eyes. He has a strong face and looks kinda strong, but not in that six pack way. He looks down at me and I feel my cheeks start to heat up.
Just then I realize that his hand is still gripping my arm. He seems to realize at the same time, letting me go and scratching the back of his neck. He looks down at me and seems to not know what to do with his hands, moving them from his neck to his chest and finally stuffing them into his pocket. He smiles at me, one that I can imagine would make a fan girl sigh. Well, good thing I'm not one of those girls, I'm more of the awkward, forget me in five seconds kind of girl. I rub my shoulder awkwardly, glancing around me, not knowing what to look at. Just then I remember something. The boy who saved me. It was him.
My eyes shoot back to him. He looks at me curiously. "It was you!" I say. He raises an eyebrow. I continue. "Your the one who saved me. I remember, you tried to get the bear trap off, then the shark, oh that shark was beautiful." I realize how weird that sounded, my eyes going wide. "I mean- like- um- in a scary, going to eat you way." I mentally hit my self in the head.
He just smiles even bigger, a goofy grin. "Yep, that was me." I smile back, feeling more relaxed. "Thank you." I say. We stand there, looking at each other, sizing the other up. I realize how awkward it got, so I just give a little wave and spin around. I start to walk away, but then realize I have absolutely no idea where I'm going. I push my lips together and slowly turn around. The guy is standing there, the goofy grin from earlier back on his face.
"You wouldn't happen to know where the Hermes cabin is, do you." He waves me over. "Come on, I'll show you." He starts to walk away, and I have no choice but to follow. I was planning to just stay behind him, try to fade to the background, but he just slows down until we are walking side by side.
He glances over at me. "You know," he says, "you really shouldn't be walking on that leg." He glances down at my scars. I shake my head. "It doesn't hurt." He stares at me. "What?" I ask. He stares at me in shock for another couple seconds, then slowly says, "you were in there fifteen minutes. There is no way, even with Ambrose, that you healed that fast." I stare at him. He must be joking, fifteen minutes? How gullible does he think I am? I look into his eyes, expecting him to start laughing, desperately wanting him to yell 'got you' but his eyes are sincere, and there's something else. Is it worry. No, it can't be, I must just be really bad at reading people.
I want to brush it off, think he's joking, but my stomach is sinking quickly, believing him. I look down at my watch, which is luckily water proof. Sure enough it has been about thirty minutes since I left the cabin this morning. My head starts to spin. I expect my self to be sick, to start hyperventilating, but some how something in me just feels normal. Relaxed even. We keep walking in silence. We had just crested a hill and I look down at the camp. It's wasn't that big of a hill, just a little bump, but I can still see the lake. There are a lot of cabins, and it looks like even more are being made. Campers are walking out of a big field, patting each other on the back and exchange money like they had made a bet. I have no idea what had been going on to attract so many people, but I desperately want to hide. I don't like crowds and I don't like people looking at me, so I quickly scramble down the mini hill so that I'm on the same level. I glance back and see that the guy I had been following is now talking to another camper, no longer besides me. Just then I realize I don't even know his name. I turn around to go back and ask him when I hear giggles behind he. The hair in the back of my neck stand up. I get a sickening feeling that I know what comes up next. I have been bullied and mocked for a long time, and for some reason I thought I would be safe here. Guess I thought wrong.
I turn around, and standing behind me are two girls. One is wearing skinny jeans with an orange t shirt on. She has raven black hair and golden eyes, her skin the perfect tan. Her hair is straight and seems to blow in the windowless air. The other girl has short shorts on, revealing her perfect legs, and is also wearing an orange shirt. This girl has emerald blue eyes that seem to shimmer, blond curly hair that you only see in shampoo commercials which has golden highlights in it, and full, pink lips. I see more then a few boys stop and stair at them for a little bit, and one guy even seems to drool a little bit. I feel kinda self conscious of my baggy t shirt and legs, and not to mention my bear feet. I usually liked to not wear shoes, even preformed to not wear them most if the time, but now I felt very self conscious.
The blond girl is evidently the one who giggled, because she now has her hand over her mouth as though to keep from laughing. She looks down at my legs and giggles again.
"Excuse me," she says to me, "but me and my friend were just wondering if you don't have a Razer, or if you just don't know how to use it. Now my friend here, Mandy, said that you probably just don't have one, but I thought you didn't know how to even use one." They both laughed. I feel my face start to heat up from embarrassment. The blond seems to squint her eyes and look at my face. "Now that I think of it, maybe you just have a hair problem. Just look at that mustache." They both burst out in giggles at that remark. I look down and feel my eyes start to sting, but I don't want to cry. I start to walk away when the blond grabs a fist full of my hair.
I'm yanked back. I grab my hair to try to get it back, but she is surprisingly strong. She pulls my hair again and I almost cry out. She turns to her friend. "Just look at this hair. Even those greasy Hefestise geeks have better hair then this." I feel like my hair is about to be wripped out of my scull. "What has she been doing, washing in the mud. The color looks like mud, and it feels like mud." They laugh again. I was seriously considering kicking her in the leg, hopefully leaving a big purple bruise on her perfect leg, but just then a hand wraps around the blonds arm, the same one holding me. The blond whips her head around, and finds herself face to face with the guy who saved me.
He glares down at her. She sticks out her lip and looks at him. "Hugo, honey, your hurting me. Be a dear and let go. Maybe afterwards we can talk about our relationship." The guy, Hugo, just glared at her. "Let her go." He growls. The blond doesn't even loosen her grip. "Samantha, let go of her right now." His voice is deadly cold now and he tightens his grip on her wrist. She rolls her eyes. After a second she finally released me. Because of the possession I was in, trying to save my self from as much pain as possible, I end up falling to the ground. As soon as I hit the ground, I scramble back and stand up. Hugo releases Samantha and starts to walk towards me, a cold look in his eyes. Samantha runs up behind him and puts her hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Hugo dear, I forgive you. Come back to me, all is forgiven." He brushes her hand off and keeps walking. When he gets to me he puts his arm around my shoulder, an obvious sign of claim. My cheeks heat up as he starts to lead me away, hugging me to him. I know it's all an act, but no guy has ever really noticed me, much less shook my hand and risked touching me.
We start to walk away and I look over my shoulder. Samantha is glaring daggers at me and Mindy is just checking her polished nails. After about five seconds of cold hard glaring, Samantha turns around and walks away, Mindy in tow.
I let out a sigh of relief. After walking for a little while, Hugo takes his arm from my shoulders. For some reason it felt like he was a little bit reluctant when he was taking his arm from my shoulders, but it was probably just my imagination. We walk on silence for a little bit. Finally Hugo breaks the silence. "I'm sorry." He says. I look up at him, but he just looks straight forward, not meeting my gaze. I bite my lip, wondering if I should say something. In most cases I like to avoid all unnecessary conversations, for obvious reason, but he looked so hurt and turn up about what happened.
"What do you have to be sorry for? It wasn't your fault." I say, hoping to reassure him. He runs his hand through his dark hair, messing it up, but not in a bad way. It was already messy, but now it was even more wild. He glances down at me, then back up. I look forward, expecting him not to say anything. To my surprise, he says, "you know they were wrong, right." I feel my ears hear up. I glance up at him, and I could swear that I thought I saw a little bit of a blush in his cheeks. Must be from the heat, I think. We keep walking. "Besides," he says matter-of-factly, "I happen to like mud very much." I let out a very unladylike snort. His goofy grin comes back to his face. The tension seems to leave us and we walk in comfortable silence.

This chapter turned out to be too long and reduced to load, so I've split it into two. Thanks for reading!