The blood turns from a bright crimson to a faded pink as it washes into the metal basin. For once, I'm not worried about the germs it contains or what diseases I could catch by coming into contact with someone else's blood. All I care about is that he's okay.
I pass him a hand towel and reach up a thumb to wipe a stain off his mouth. That's when I realise it's actually a massive bruise.
"June, what have you done to yourself?" I cry. He winks at me.
"You should've seen the other guy." I shake my head but I'm secretly hoping that he broke the other guy's nose.
"You know you didn't need to do that."
"I didn't plan to do it either. It just happened." I tug on his ear lobe."Ouch!" he cries. I let go, laughing.
"Even if it wasn't the best decision you've ever made, I'm still grateful you stuck up for me."
"Of course you are. It's impossible for you to ever actually get mad at me." I lift my hand up in warning and he raises his arms in surrender.
"Promise you won't ever pull a stunt like that again?" I try my best to keep my lips in a hardened line.
"Promise." He holds out his pinky and I link mine with his. Why is it I can't ever stay mad at him? I really shouldn't be letting him get away with this.
This morning, I had just managed to drag myself out of bed when I found June in my kitchen. He always seems to materialise there like some sort of magic act. He took one look at my puffy eyes and bedraggled hair and pulled me into the tightest hug.
"What happened?" he asked with a worried expression. I pulled away so I could stop suffocating in his jumper.
"Patty." With the mention of his name, his eyebrows scrunched together and a look of anger passed over his face. He was ready to storm out the door but I pulled him onto the couch next to me and told him he had to let me explain. After I'd told him the previous days events, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
"I'll take care of it." I looked at him helplessly as he stormed out the door. My parents had just shrugged. At first I thought he was going to buy me flowers and chocolates or something but after an hour he still hadn't returned. That's when I got a hysterical call from Patty's mum saying June had punched her son in the face.
I dropped the phone.
Turns out, he stole his dads car and drove all the way to Patty's. He marched right up to the door and as soon it was open, punched Patty right in the face. Patty got a few punches in back before his mum finally heard the commotion and pulled them apart.
June had turned up on my doorstep with bloodied hands and bruises and a determined expression less than an hour later. I was bewildered but cleaned him up as he explained to me what had happened. A right mess, is what I thought.
I should be mad at him. Punching people is never the right answer, even if you think they deserve it. Technically, anything Patty did back was self defence and if June was eighteen he could get arrested for assault. Luckily, it doesn't seem like Patty's mum will dob him in as she's probably too worried that her son will get a reputation for getting into fights, but still. I can't help but feel a little disappointed.
I try to ignore the delicious feeling of revenge in the pit of my stomach and those little sparks of delight I get when thinking of Patty with a blood nose. It feels like the emotional pain he did to me was ten times worse.
I can't justify June though, can I? He reaches up to brush the bruise on his face and winces.
"It's a big one, isn't it?" he asks and I nose my head, solemnly. My mum walks out the back door and looks at the two of us.
"If you're done washing the blood in the outdoor sink, you can come in and get something to eat."
"Thanks mum." I smile and she shares a knowing glance with me.
Boys. You love 'em and you hate 'em.
After June has left, I can hardly hold it in. I dial Jade's number and pace the length of my room. She answers on the first ring.
"Hey girl! What's up?"
"You won't believe it." I grin. She's always been the one with the spicy drama and hectic love life and it feels good to have a story to tell her for once.
Her usual motto with boys is if they make one mistake, to drop them. That's why it's so unexpected when she doesn't go off on June for being immature and Patty for being a jerk.
Well, that's only half true, at first she does go off on Patty, using every curse and slur that could possibly be taken as an insult. Frankly, I'm impressed by the extent of her vocabulary.
"Okay! Okay!" I eventually say, cutting off her rant. "But what do you think about June? That was dumb too, right?"
"No. It's fricking hot!" she cries and I cover my mouth to stop me from giggling too loud. My parents are in bed and I don't want them to yell at me for being up so late on a school night.
"Hot? How?"
"Let's just say that if some boy punched another boy for me, I'd turn straight for them." At this point, I fail to hold in my laughter.
"You wouldn't turn straight for anyone. Don't kid yourself."
"In theory..." She giggles. "Okay, well, if I was a straight girl, then I'd totally fall for that boy."
"I'm already in love with June, just as friends," I say. She snorts.
"You are so pathetic. Just admit it already. I've been waiting all year for this." I sigh loudly. She has never understood the dynamics of our friendship.
"Admit that June is a better friend than you? Of course!" I say. I can practically feel her eye roll through the phone.
"Whatever, Lav. I'm going to bed."
"Wait, I need to tell you about-"
"Goodnight!" she says cheerily cutting me off. She always hangs up the phone to ensure she gets the last word in.
"Jade!"
"Bye! Oh and one more thing, I sincerely hope you have a sexy dream about June tonight."
"No! What-" I start to say, but I already hear the buzzing that signifies a dead-line. I plop onto my bed and look up at the roof.
I will admit, I did feel something a little bit different when June held my hand today...but I also can't help admit that it was maybe just due to shock, seeing as it was covered in blood.
At the thought of it, I race into my the bathroom and glance up at the paper that covers my mirror as I scrub my hands with hospitable grade soap. It only reminds me of my utter failure.
A circus conductor the size of an ant sits on my tap and announces in a deep voice, "Lavender Monarch, falling for a guy who doesn't love her back and unable to overcome a single one of her fears. Living in a closet since '89." I squash him with my pointer finger and impulsively wash my hands again.
All I want to do is rip up my piece of paper and scatter it in the ocean so I can forget I even tried. Instead, I reach up and rip a corner of the paper off this mirror so a tiny sliver shines through. It's something.
At least I'm trying.