Teenage Millionaire

Chapter 19: Worry

I don't think we go quite as far as he originally was planning, after that. Which is nice, honestly, because the forest seems to get thicker the further we go. He eventually finds a spot that he likes and drops the bag, then carefully helps me sit down. I can't help but think about how I might be sitting on animal droppings, or bugs, or some sort of fungi (so gross. So, so gross).

He digs through the bag and finds the sleeping bags, tossing mine into my lap and laying his own out. Immediately, my mind goes to the bugs that could crawl into it while we're sleeping. They could crawl into our ears, too, or noses, or could just infest our clothing-

I'm regretting saying that I don't want to go back because of my fall, now. No- no, that's not accurate. I'm regretting agreeing to this at all. A couple hundred dollars, safe driving, and not trying to convince me to skip classes is not payment enough for this. What if an ant crawls into my head and starts marching all over my eardrums, or gets into my cochlea? I'd suffer constant, extremely loud noises for the rest of my life, and I'd either go deaf, insane or have to have ear surgery in which they'd probably have to remove my entire ear, and dig into my head to get out all of the internal organs too-

"Todd, are you sure you don't want to go back? You look like you're in pain."

"Just thinking," I mumble back.

"You don't owe me anything, you know. We don't have to stay. I can do this," he gestures to the forest, "anytime."

"It's okay," I almost whisper, though I really have no idea why- I suppose it's because my hands aren't really hurting, nor are they the reason why I want to leave, and I hate lying. I'm a horrible liar, and I'm sure he'd notice- he seems to be able to read my mind sometimes. I wish that part was mutual, I'd love to know what he's thinking. Know what the heck he wants from me, especially now that I know I'm the only person he's ever brought to his house more than once. And why he keeps possibly flirting with me- and if it's flirting at all. And-

"Todd," he says quietly, and he's kneeling in front of me now, gently taking one of my hands and pouring a bottle of water over it, washing the dust out before he starts applying some kind of ointment to it. "Are you okay? Not just because of your hands. Are you actually okay?"

I avoid his eyes. "I'm-"

"I'll do all the things I promised you I'd do if you came, even if you want to leave right now."

I close my eyes for a second. Gosh, I want to leave right now. Blame it on my 'injuries'. But instead, I shake my head, deepening the pit of horror and dread in my stomach.

"Todd," he whispers imploringly, and I almost cave.

"No. We can stay." I still don't quite meet his eyes, and I'm 100% sure that he notices. He doesn't say anything else, though, just lets out a little sigh, finishes bandaging my hand, and starts on the other one.

After that, I try to stop freaking out (which means I stop thinking about bugs and fungi and animal droppings and- oh my gosh, what about animals? What kind of animals might live in this forest?- no, stop thinking about that, Todd). Instead, I focus on anything else. Such as, the burning of my palms. And how I'm going to explain my bandaged hands to my parents (oh don't worry, Mom and Dad, I just fell down a cliff in the middle of the forest. No biggie).

I shake my head, trying to get rid of any freaking-out thoughts. I'm fine. This is fine. Nothing bad is going to happen, everything is going to be completely okay.

Patrick is still watching me pretty carefully. I can't tell how much of that is out of concern, and how much is out of whatever weird thing he has for examining people's faces. He eventually gets out a notebook and pen and sits down somewhere near me where I can see him perfectly, even in the dimming light, but I can't see what he's writing.