To Be A Warrior

Chapter 26: Damaged Goods

"Do the words 'take it easy' just go into your ears and die before they reach your brain?" Peter asks, snatching the flask from my hand and ignoring the glare I send him.

"Oh, be quiet. I haven't drank that much," I reply. "I'm still talking normally, ain't I?"

"Yeah, but you've only been out here for ten minutes," He replies, earning a quiet chuckle from Tom before he responds.

"Bit of a late start, aye, Five?"

"Sorry that I was able to catch a hint of sleep," I roll my eyes. "After getting my ass handed to me-"

"Again," Tom interrupts, smirking.

"Again," I grumble, "I conked out pretty hard."

"Well, in your defense, your arm's still healing from two weeks ago because you decided to be an idiot," Peter says, and I scoff.

"You say that as if me being an idiot isn't a normal occurrence."

He grunts, looking annoyed but not really disagreeing. ""How is your arm, by the way?"

I look down at my arm, still covered in bandages. It was hard to fool Maxine when it came time for the stitches to come out. I had to basically cut into my arm before she came by because it had completely healed, without leaving a scar.

She would know something was up if I just let her see me like that, so it painfully had to be done. She's already been making comments about how the scars on my back and the one on my side is fading. She hasn't noticed that the cartilage on my ears are growing back, slowly but surely.

Thank God I have long hair.

"It's fine. Hurts sometimes, but I'll live." The lie comes out so smoothly I wonder if I should feel proud of myself. Nicole has commented more than once how Abel has taken away my ability to be deceitful around close friends, which could end up hurting me in the longer run.

I love proving her wrong, even if I can't rub it in her face.

I wrap my arms around myself, my long sleeves not really doing much to keep out the cold. As this month goes on and it gets colder and colder, these meetups will have much more complaining from my end. It's already pretty cold, but since I was late to the party, I don't exactly want start whining right off the bat. Who knows how long these two have been sitting out here smoking their cigarettes and trying to convince themselves that this behavior is acceptable?

I already know it isn't, but I do it anyway because I can. Because it helps and gives just the smallest bit of agonizing comfort none of us truly think we deserve. We all have happy times outside of this, but coming here is easier than waking up our partners and making them suffer from the sleeplessness that plagues our minds, whether it be from bad dreams or just restlessness that itches under our skin on certain nights, forcing us up even as our eyes burn.

"Oh, 'M gonna get so much heat today when I try to teach volleyball to the Blackmoore folks today," I groan as I remember. "Seems people my age are great at detecting when I haven't gotten enough sleep."

"It's because they do the same thing," Peter replies. "Do you know how many times we've seen them sneaking around just tonight?"

"One girl actually screamed when I asked her why she was sneaking around at two AM," Tom chuckles. "You'll be lucky if any of them are even up to play."

"You know you could help. You're really good and it'd be fun to watch you school them," I suggest, but he shakes his head.

"As entertaining as I'm sure that would be, I've got other things that need my attention in the morning."