Red

11

Van finds a pair of grey sweatpants at the top of my bag when he opens it. I threw them in last minute figuring they would be nice to sleep in. They were the only pair of pants I packed.

He takes my open bag and places on the floor. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up again," Van says. He grabs the medicine from earlier and sits on the floor, so I do too.

He takes my leg and puts overtop of his lap and gets the medicine onto a cloth, just like before. "Here's my hand," Van says, waiting for me to grab it. I look at his hand and then his face, thinking it was just a joke. He was so mad at me. Why would he let me hold his hand? "Go on," he says.

I slowly bring my hand up and grab his hand. Van confused me. I don't understand why he was so controlling over only me. And so scary to only me. He had to know he was acting different around me.

"Here we go," Van says, applying the medicine to my cut. I squeeze my eyes shut and grab his hand tighter. He rubs the medicine in gently, slowly making his was to the bottom of the cut. "You did great. Not nearly as bad as last time, eh?"

I open my eyes and nod my head even though it hurt just as much as last time. I just tried to control myself a little more. "Good. You gotta learn to toughen up," he says.

"W-why?" I stutter.

"Why?" Van repeats my question with a chuckle. "Because were gonna be on this island for a while. And you never know what could be out there: rats, bears, wolves. We'll have to find out ourselves," he explains.

I stiffen up. I haven't even thought about those sorts of things yet. I most definitely couldn't save myself from a bear or wolf.

"You're tense, Tris," he says, moving his hand which was still loosely holding my hand to my upper arm. "I was only kidding. You've got nothing to worry about. I'll be here to keep you safe. Got it?"

I look up to see if he was smirking at me again. Was that also a joke. I mean, he can't be serious about keeping me safe. He seems to hate me more than anything. I wouldn't be surprised if he fed me to the wolves.

Van notices me a little zoned out, lost in my thoughts. "Tris?" He says my name. "Got it?" I look at him and then look down, nodding my head.

"I don't think you do," Van says. His voice was quiet, something I haven't heard from him before. He lifts my chin up with his fingers. My eyes were watering and a tear falls from my eye. Van wipes it away with his thumb. I mentally scold myself for crying. "What's on your mind?" He asks.

I shrug my shoulders. I didn't want him to get mad if I told him. "Don't lie to me," Van says, his voice strict again. I flinch at the sudden change in tone.

"You h-hate me," I whisper. I should have made something else up to tell him, but I told him the truth.

"Oh really?" Van says, he looked amused. I look up at him and then look away when his ice blue eyes lock with mine.

"Do you see your leg, princess?" He touches the gauze wrapped around my cut. I nod my head. "If I hated you, do you really think I would have given a damn about your leg?" He scoffs.

I shake my head. I guess that was true, but he could have just done it out of pity. Maybe he felt bad for me since my sister died. He stands up. "Don't think that I hate you. That's ridiculous," he says. I stand up and he grabs my backpack off the floor, setting it on the table.

He was about to speak, but then he stopped. He reaches into my backpack and pulls out a white bottle. It was my medicine for my anxiety and panic attacks. "What's this for?" He asks. He wasn't mad, he just seemed curious.

I grab the bottom of my flannel and squeeze it, a nervous habit of mine. "My...my anxiety," I admit. There was no point in hiding that from him. He already saw my panic attacks.

He nods his head, understanding. He shakes the bottle next to his ear. "It doesn't look like you have too many left. You take this every day?" He asks me.

I nod my head. "Okay, we're not going to be able to do that here. You'd run out too fast. I'm going to hold onto these... we'll save them for when they're really necessary. I know it's not the best scenario, but we'll make it work," he says.

I watch him read the label on the side of the bottle. Maybe he knew something about my medicine. "We'll make it work," he repeats with a sigh.

"Get changed into those pants," he says, pointing to sweatpants. "I'll be right out here." I nod my head and he walks out.

I grab another shirt, bra, and underwear from my bag as well and get changed quickly. I didn't want to upset Van by taking so long. Even though they were wet, I shove my old clothes into my bag since I had nowhere else to put them. I leave the bag open a little so air could still get in. I grab the bag and walk out of the back room.

Van looks up when I walk out. "All set?" He asks and I nod my head. "Alright, you can put your stuff right here," he points to the second 'bed' from the door of the plane that they made earlier today. Each was about five feet wide so people could easily fit their luggage in with them. I do as Van says and drop my bag at the end of my bed.

"Let's go outside, now, eh?" Van suggests. "We can see what my lads are up to."