What If

9. Calling All Psychos

Wednesday July 8th
6:35am

After the unfortunate incident of getting us both lost, something I still haven't admitted to, I was surprised that Lydia actually opened up to me. I was horrified by what she told me. Not at what she did, but what her so called family did. For the life of me, I didn't understand why they acted the way they did. They didn't think about the psychological damage they did to her.

She was sleeping beside me in the tent as I glanced down at her. She was resting on her back, her injured foot still elevated with a fresh ice pack I just put on it. Her head was to the left, facing me. Her loose brown hair was splayed out in every direction. She was resting her hand by her face, leaving the scar she showed me visible. Even though I knew she still doubted it, I didn't judge her for it. If anything, I understood it.

After my parents died, there was more than one drunken occasion when I thought joining them would be a good idea. I never attempted anything, but I did experience those thoughts a few times. The pain of losing them sometimes overwhelmed me.

A strand of hair fell over her face as she shifted. I reached forward and tucked it behind her ear. She really is beautiful, I thought before she woke up from my touch.

She looked up at me and smiled before stretching. "What time is it?"

I glanced at my watch. "It's 6:45."

She sat up and winced as she tried to move her foot. "It's still sore."

"Mind if I take a look?" I asked.

"Yeah, thanks."

I moved to position myself by her feet. I removed the ice pack before I started unwrapping the gauze.

I lifted her foot gently while examining it. "Well, the swelling has gone down, so that's good. Tell me if this hurts," I said as I pushed lightly around her ankle.

"Fuck me!" She yelled.

I couldn't hold back my laugh as I looked up at her. "Definitely sprained. Okay, I'm going to rewrap your ankle. Then, I'm going to pack everything up and we got to try to get in cell phone range. Hopefully I can call somebody to come and help us get back."

I was halfway through rewrapping her foot, when she asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"The compression of the bandage will help with-"

"No," she said, interrupting me. "Why are you doing this? You've done so much to help me. You barely know me."

My hands froze at her question. How did she think that? "Lydia, I don't think I would have been able to make it through the anniversary of my parents death without you. I'm so grateful to you for that. We've been helping each other these past few days. It's not one-sided." I glanced away before meeting her eyes again when I said, "I know you, Lydia. Just like you know me."

Something unfamiliar passed between us in that moment. Clearing my throat, I got to my feet.

"I'm going to pack this stuff up. Then we can get out of there and get some food. I'm starving."

She let out a small laugh at that and started getting her things together. Once we were all packed up, she seemed to have trouble walking.

"Here," I said as I walked up beside her, "lean on me so it doesn't get worse."

She slid her arm around my shoulders as I slid mine around her waist. I wanted her to go to a doctor to get this looked at. But, I'm going to wait to mention that until we're back in the car.