Camp Northway (Rewriting)

Boys Hurt Too

"Mr. Alan said that you needed the big easel so you are gonna need help carrying it, so naturally, I volunteered." he says, grinning from ear to ear.

"What a gentleman." I roll my eyes at him, laughing.

We go down the elevator and walk into room 202 together. I start to grab the big easel but Olly places his hand on top of mine, stopping me.

I look up at him confused.
"What?" I ask.

He takes his hand off of mine quickly, reassessing something in his mind. He runs his hand through his hair.

"Well, um... I- I was wond-dering if, well, maybe-"

"Olly, just spit it out." I cut him off, taking a hold of his hands.

He takes a deep breath in.
"I was wondering if you would go on a date with me...?" he asks slowly.

My cheeks burn bright red. Moments of our connection kept flashing through my mind. Last night, this morning. Everything. I wanted to date him, I wanted to be his girlfriend even...but my boundaries. My stupid boundaries. Should I keep up with them? I don't know what to say.

"I...uh...well..." I begin, struggling to form the right words in my mouth, but Olly takes his hands out of mine.

"I get it. You don't like me. I thought you did, that's what your mom said at least. And last night, you acted like you liked me. So I thought, hey, why not be outgoing and ask a really beautiful girl out on a date, and in the future, maybe to even be my girlfriend. But no, every time I try, I get rejected."
He turns around walking out of the room, and mutters, "Every time."

"Olly! No it's not like that! No Olly wait!" I yell and run after him.

"I'm going back to the art room." He says as I follow.

We get back to the art room with the supplies, Olly obviously looking upset. He hasn't said a word to me since he asked me out.

"You guys took a while." Mr. Alan says shortly.
"Sorry about that." I respond and quickly sit down at my table.

After about 30 minutes of painting a piece of fruit in the front of the room as our project in silence, Olly checks his phone. A text from someone came in- he looked startled, even scared.

"Mr. Alan, can I go to my room for a few minutes I- I left something up there." Olly asks.

"Go ahead." Mr. Alan responds.

Olly quickly gets up and runs out of the room. What could that text be? Who was it from? Why did he look so upset by it?

30 more minutes pass and Olly still is not back from his room. I try texting him.

iMessage
June 7th, 11:27 a.m.

Elena: Olly where are you?
Elena: I'm sorry about earlier.
Elena: You must have misunderstood me.
Elena: Are you still in your room?

"Mr. Alan, can I go check on Olly?" I ask, beginning to feel nervous about Olly's lack of response.

"Jesus why are you kids always going somewhere? I guess, go ahead." He says.

I take the elevator to our floor and run to his room. I begin to knock, then I realize that it is already cracked open. What?
I walk inside, not hesitating to wait for permission.

"Olly!" I yell.
Then, I hear sobbing coming from the bathroom. I run to the noise, and when I look at the scene, my breath hitches in my throat.

There is Olly, my strong, tough, loving friend. My love. My everything.

There he is, on the floor, a blade in his hand. His wrist was bleeding, but not a lot. Just enough to worry me.
Scratch that, it wasn't worry. I was having a fucking heart attack.

I was at a complete loss for words. I run over to him and snatch the blade out of his hands, flushing it down the toilet. I turn to him, sobbing with him.

"Olly...what are you doing?" I cry.

"No, no baby, please don't cry." He reaches out with his good arm, I sit down in his lap and curl up in his arms.

"Why, why Olly? Why cut? Why hurt your precious body?" I ask, choking on my tears.

"I-I don't know. I haven't done it in a while, and I've just really been hurting recently. I just feel so fucking numb. Then today... I don't know. I'm not saying that it's your fault, not at all, and I don't-"

"YOU'VE DONE THIS BEFORE?" I say furious.

He looks down and I jump back up, wiping my tears away. My sadness turning into pure anger.

"Oliver Eric Bradly! You will not do this to yourself ever again do you understand?" I yell at him. He nods his head, still looking down, tears streaming down his face. I then looked at his wound and sighed.

"Come here." I say.
He gets up and hands me his wrist. I run it under the cold sink water. He winces.

"It's gonna sting." I mutter, still really pissed at him.

I then take a wash cloth and hold it to his arm.
"Keep this on it, and keep pressure, it will make the bleeding stop. Luckily it isn't deep, so you won't need stitches." I say and walk out of the bathroom. Olly follows me, his cheeks stained with tears, but not crying anymore. He begins to calm down.

"I'm sorry Elena. I'm sorry." he says sitting next to me on his bed.

"No, Olly." I say, looking at my hands, turning away from him.

"I won't do it again, I swear."
"Why did you do it before?" I ask quickly.
"What?"

"You said that you've cut before? Why?"

He breathes a huge sigh. "My life is pretty fucked up Elena, I'll tell you that right now. But the story behind it... I'll save that for later."
I sigh, I'll have to wait and ask about the man.

I look at his face. He looks tired and sad. His eyes puffy from crying, his cheeks splotchy. It makes me sad.

I forget about everything in that moment and I embrace him in a hug, squeezing him as tightly as possible. He squeezes me back, and we just sit there, hugging each other. I feel the connection like never before. You know what? Screw boundaries. Screw life.

"Olly?" I say.
"Yeah El?" We pull away from each other.

"Yes." I say slowly.
"What?"

"I will go out with you." I say grinning as big as humanly possible. He does the same, then gives me the biggest and longest hug of my life.
I love the feeling of his touch and his smell. Everything just felt right. I am sure I made the right decision, I mean... I have to. This has to be right.

***