Room 1 (Bates Motel)

Chapter 7: Father

                                                      Chapter 7: Father

"Hey whatcha got there," Dylan points to my information packet.

"Uh its an enrollment packet for Normans high school. Well I guess mine as of tomorrow."

Dylan sits down in the chair next to mine," Ah so I see you took my advice to escape this place for seven hours a day."

"Uh no I didn't," he scrunches up his eyebrows, " it was your mothers idea not mine." Dylan looks confused. " So if my brother didn't convince you and if I couldn't convince you then how did my mother convince you? I mean no offense but she kind of hates you and I know you hate her too. So I don't see why she would be so concerned with your schooling."

"None taken I hate her too," I put my hands up to my heart and smile," with all my heart!" That earned me a smile and a laugh from him. " No but your mom put it on my to-do list for today and she said if I didn't attend school and people found out it would look bad for her business."

"I thought you and I quote ' don't give a shit' about her business."

"I don't but she said if she doesn't get business then I wont have a boss to work for and a place to stay. So I have no choice." I flip through the pages of information that needs to be filled out. When I scrunch up my hand to hold the pen a sharp stinging sensation shoots through my hand. Which causes me to drop the pen. Dylan leans forward," what's wrong?" His eyes dart to my hands and sees that the gauze that used to be white are now soaked in red.

He takes my hands into his and looks at them in disbelief," How long have your hands been bleeding like this?!"

I wince at the pain," Since this morning." I pull away," Its no big deal Im fine."

"Fine? You call your bleeding hands fine? Did you go to school like this?"

"Uh yea I did I'm not gonna let some bleeding scratches on my hands stop me from doing what I need to do."  What was he expecting me to do? Sit in my room and sulk all day because I have a few minor wounds?

"You're so stubborn its irritating," Dylan gets up and walks to his tuck and reaches in and grabs a box with a red cross on it. He pulls up the chair he was sitting in and places it in front of me. Is he going to clean my cuts again?

"Well give me your hands." I guess he is. I place my hands on my thighs facing up. Dylan takes starts with my right hand unwinding the gauze. The gauze sticks to my cuts because some of the blood has dried. Dylan pulls harder to get it off causing my hand to sting even more.

"Ouch! Would it kill you to be more gentle?" He chuckles," I thought you were tougher than that. Guess I was wrong." Smartass.

"Whatever it just caught me off guar- OUCH!" The asshole poured peroxide on my hand without warning me. He smiles and looks up," Oops sorry I thought you saw that one coming."

I send him a glare," Im starting to think that you enjoy watching me suffer."

"And why would you say that all I've done is help you. You just see it as torture because you hate having people help you. Now shut up or else I will dump more peroxide on your hands. You wouldn't want that now would you." He takes the asshole trophy, but a nice one.

Dylan's done cleaning my hands and puts the medical kit back in his truck and sits back down. My hands feel ten times better. They don't sting as much anymore and they feel clean. When Dylan cleaned my hands it felt like Deja vu'. It brought me back to when he saved and took care of me. I flip to the first page of my packet and fill out my first and last name. Okay that wasn't so hard, second part home phone and parent emergency phone....... screw this. I flip the papers over and lean back in my chair looking up at the light.