Delinquent Camp

Chapter Six

“Michelle’s coming,” Rhyson whispers, pulling me into the crowd. “I didn’t want you to get hurt and get in shit.”

I hear Michelle as Rhyson lets me go. He gives me a smile before disappearing into the group of kids, leaving me by myself until I feel a nudge in my side.

“Ow,” I mutter, gently caressing my war wound.

“That was awesome!” Ember grins, patting me on the back. “I still feel bad for Scarlett though. She got hit pretty badly.” I move my gaze to Scarlett, who I now can see clearly since everyone is starting to leave. Blood is trickling out of the corner of her lips, along with her nose. And even though I can’t be sure, I think she has a black eye.

“Take Rachel to my office immediately,” Michelle snaps to Michael, who is one of the three counselors she retrieved. Once they’re gone, she goes over to Scar, looking at her wounds closely. “The campfire is cancelled tonight!” She yells to whoever is still nearby. “Spread the word!”

~~~

“Ow, ow, ow,” I mutter, slowly lifting up my tank top. In the girl’s bathroom mirror, I turn to the left, looking at the bruise. It’s mostly on the left side of my lower stomach, looking purple, blue and fist-shaped. It isn’t the first time that I’ve been hit, but in my opinion, you really don’t get used to it.

The rest of the day I hid out in my cabin, not caring if I got in trouble for missing my activities. Running around Camp Haven doing things that involve movement does not sit well with me right now.

“That looks painful.”

I whip around to see Rhyson leaning against the open door, staring at me. I suck a quick breathe in through my teeth as I drop the fabric, letting it snap back against my skin.

“You’re going to get in trouble,” I tell him quietly, turning back around the face the mirror. I listen to the sound of the crickets as I soak a wash cloth in the cold water I filled one of the sinks with.

“Who’s going to know? It’s one in the morning,” he smirks, watching my reflection. His hair falls over his eyes but he doesn’t seem to notice as I try and avoid his stares.

In all honesty, I forgot I was supposed to meet him tonight. I guess with recent events, I’ve been busying myself, trying to ignore the stinging pain.

“Point taken.” I pull the cloth out of the sink and lift up the left side of my shirt. Clenching my teeth, I press the freezing cold fabric onto my skin and try not to start yelling.

“You’re going to get your clothes wet,” Rhyson notes, walking towards me. He’s right; I can feel the frigid drops running down to my sweatpants.

“Well, what else am I going to do?” I snap through clenched teeth. I look up at the ceiling, trying to ignore how cold and painful this is.

“Here,” he grabs the cloth away from me and gestures towards the counter. “Climb up and lie on your back.” I raise my eyebrows but he gives me a look that tells me he knows what he’s doing. With a sigh, I climb onto the fairly clean granite and lie down with my feet over the sink.

“How does this help?” I ask, looking at myself in the mirror.

“Do you mind?” He gestures towards my side, ignoring my question. I shrug and watch as he slowly lowers his fingertips to my tank top and gingerly pushes it up to reveal the bruise. He dips the cloth in the cold water again and quickly presses it to my side.

“This sucks,” I wince. But Rhyson was right, this was a better idea. Now all the water is dripping onto the floor rather onto my clothes that only get washed once a week. For a few awkward moments, neither of us speak. Wanting to fill the silence, I clear my throat. “So, uh, I guess I should thank you. For earlier.”