Scrape

16. Blackout

By the time it came to the night of the party a few days later, I'd nearly fully recovered from my battlescars. However, I felt the blood in my veins freeze whenever I thought of the Head, and I did so frequently. This was because he was - to be frank - insanely terrifying, and as soon as I'd escaped the office, I'd found Clara and told her to stay away from Kye. She wasn't stupid; she'd known something had happened, and had asked about my cheek. I hadn't provided her with a clear-cut answer, remembering his threat and bleeding throat.

Nonetheless, I'd been forced to go to the infirmary to see Ollie and get fixed up alongside the three other mutilated lumps of female Clara had obliterated. I was irritated that they'd brought this unfair judgment upon me, but they had received enough punishment.

When I'd arrived at the infirmary, Ollie had taken one look at me, and then instructed his aid to leave him alone whilst he healed me.

"So," he'd finally conjured up, "you look like you've been attacked by a bear."

"Only if the bear has manicured nails and a perm you could nest birds in," I'd responded, slightly angry.

"Wow. That bad?"

"Don't. Even. Ask."

"O-Okay," he'd stammered defensively, raising his palms in mock-surrender, "I didn't mean to get on your bad side. Here."

He'd pressed his fingertips against my most serious injuries, and despite it feeling as though someone had dug a small nail into my skin, the pain had instantly shifted into a mellow - yet comforting - warmth. I'd sighed happily as he fixed me up, and then had gotten up to leave. While I'd been halfway out of the door, I'd glanced back, to find him beside me. He'd then gently caressed my wrist, and lifted my hand to his lips, shocking me with his intimacy.

"Careful, now," Ollie had murmured into my hand, "with you being in such a rush, I nearly missed a spot."

It had made me blush, yet he'd still released my hand slowly, drawing out the length of time our palms were embracing. When our fingertips met, he'd held his there, and then broke contact suddenly. My arm had reflexively twitched, but I'd thought better of touching him again and leading him on, so I'd retracted myself. I'd then made a poor excuse to dismiss myself, and had run off to find Clara.

After that encounter, I'd avoided physical contact with anyone.

Until now.

I was in my dorm room with Clara in the evening, around 8PM. It was dark outside, and I felt like the Frost Queen had breathed tonight, leaving the trees crisp and cool. We were both attempting to dress up for the party, although Clara appeared to be struggling. I still had remnants of brown dye on my hands from helping her change her hair colour.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she groaned as her newly-dyed brown hair got caught in the zip of her sea-green cocktail dress.

It had a flattering V-neck, and pulled her in at the waist, reminding me of the 70s.

"We've had thousands of years to get clothing right, and designers still can't do it today!" She made annoyed noises, still attempting to zip herself in.

I put on my dress. It was also a cocktail, but in an elegant shade of burghundy, with a sweetheart neckline and a cute added flower.

"I say we should all revert to wearing togas," I agreed, "at least then, there would be no zips!"

"Agreed," Clara said, as I finished getting changed and zipped her up carefully, putting her hair over one shoulder.

When she turned to face me, I took in her figure, as it was hard not to in such a dress. She was beautiful in her own way, and although we weren't slim girls, I'd say we could turn heads, or maybe Clara could. What I didn't realize was that she was also taking me in, and smiling at what she saw. I got our matching masks off my bed and handed the green one to her.