bandages || calum hood

one

calum

I felt the blood drip down my bruised fist as my adrenaline pumped ferociously inside me.

"Is that all you got, Hood?" Tristan wiped the crimson liquid from his fractured nose and wiped his scratched palm on his jersey with our school logo fading in the front.

"You little shit." I clenched my fist and squeezed the collar of his shirt. The veins in my arms bulged out as I smashed my fist into his face. I heard the sound of bone crushing under my knuckles and felt the liquid drench around.

"Enough!" Mr. Thompson boomed into the crowded cafeteria that was vandalized with poor quality food splattered on the walls.

"He started it." Tristan gritted his teeth and pulled off his little prissy ass reputation.

"Tristan's lying-"

"I don't want to hear any of this right now. Both of you go to the nurse's office and come to my office immediately after." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down before he adjusted his patterned tie.

"This is all your fault." Tristan shot me a glare before walking past me and hitting my shoulder. I narrowed my eyes at him and wiped the liquid onto my ripped skinny jeans. My stained black Vans dragged across the filthy tiles in the hallway that lead to the minuscule nurse's office. I lazily turned the knob of the rusty door before walking into the hand sanitizer scented room. Various health warning signs were plastered all over the teal painted walls. Two small beds for resting were placed on opposite sides of the room. The one on the far left was occupied by Tristan who was holding in his tears.

"This is the first time we've seen you here, Hood." A heavy woman peered at me from her glasses with her fingers glued onto the keyboard of the desktop computer.

"Why should that matter?" I narrowed my eyes at the frightened woman. She tucked one of her amber curls behind her ear before clearing her throat.

"Please go to the opposite bed over there. Belle will take care of you. She is a senior like you, but she is doing this for training. Do you mind?" The woman pointed her head to the vacant bed that was coated with white sheets.

"No." I scowled at her and forced my aching body across the white floor specked with black. I stood next to the bed, unsure of what to do. Consequently, a jet black haired girl hastily made her way over to me. Her short framed body carried a first aid kit and another box full of bandages with a clipboard.

"Sorry." She stuttered and tsked at herself. The girl pulled the curtain to cover the section I was in for privacy. Her ink colored hair was pinned up to a sharp high ponytail that swayed as she shuffled around. Her denim skinny jeans tightened around her short legs and a red flannel was buttoned up to shape her body. "Calum, right?"

Her voice was soft and melodic, but it seemed so insecure. There was so much pressure within her voice, it was quite conflicting. I found myself giving her an imperceptible nod and shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Well, you have many wounds. Please sit on the bed, so I can fix them." Her nimble fingers snatched a handful of alcohol packets as I awkwardly relaxed myself on the laundry scented sheets.

She rolled in a navy blue spinning chair and pushed it in front of me. Her eyebrows furrowed which caused a nervous expression to come across her lightly tanned face.

"Ready?" Her coffee colored eyes peered into mine. I was too flustered to muster a group of words causing me to give her a poor excuse of a nod. She took a deep breath before gently taking my bruised hands. She tore open the rubbing alcohol packages and stared at me with pity. "This will hurt just a bit."