Topsy-Turvy

Stop Squirming Dylan!

Jennifer's POV:

Dylan and I made our way to the bathroom. The silence made things ten times more awkward than they already were. Dylan was probably doing it on purpose, and smirking.

I didn't know what his face was like since I didn't want to make things weird and look back at him. We were already going into a bathroom and locking the door, as it is. I think would lay down and die if anyone saw us and got the wrong idea. I've had enough embarrassment in a few days to last a lifetime.

I spotted the door with a blue wheelchair on it. Nobody ever used it, so it wouldn't be likely that anyone would even come our way... hopefully.

"Okay, let's get this over with." I sighed, getting my first aid kit ready.

"Right. My thoughts exactly." he replied, shoving the door, and trudging inside.

"You could have turned the light on." I scolded, waving my arms around frantically, looking for the light switch.

"Nah."

"Ugh, you're so lazy!" I slapped his shoulder with a packet of tissues once I had turned the light on, no thanks to him.

He cowered back, smirking. "Hey, that's a little harsh. I like to call it selective participation." his reasoning was ridiculous, yet still slightly entertaining.

"Stop trying to sound smart and sit on the sink." I commanded, locking the door, and trying not to smile at what he said.

"You mean utilizing gargantuan idioms to simulate intelligence?" he said with a completely straight face.

I couldn't help but smile at that one.

"Right." If he was like this all the time, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to hang out with him all the time. Unfortunately, we both knew that would never happen.

He was still laughing at his own joke when I finally opened the tissues. I took one and reached behind his back to wet it, and had to get pretty up close and personal to him.

He smells good. I found myself unconsciously standing there, just silently sniffing him, with my face practically pressed to the side of his arm, and my hand under the running water.

I realized what what was happening, and snapped out of the trance that his cologne put me in.

He better! I'm not hanging out with some guy that smells like a dirty gym bag, no matter how desperate I am!

The tissue I had in my hand was pretty much a pile of glop in my hands from how long I had it under the water while I was smelling Dylan. I wrapped it in some more tissues to salvage it, so I would still have something to wipe his bloody head with.

He took off his hood without me even having to say a thing.

"I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but I'll try to remember what my Mom said to do." I warned, and gathered the courage necessary to bringing my hand up to his head. I was nervous for some reason.

I didn't like the sight of blood, but decided I better get rid of it myself than have to look at it for who knows how long. Dylan wouldn't get rid of it himself, that's for sure.

"As long as you don't bring out out a needle or one of those sharp things, I'm fine."

"Why? Are you scared?" I challenged.

His face turned red, and he immediately said, "I would be if you were the one holding them!" his tough-guy act amused me.

Fair enough. After all, I probably would stab the needle his into his chest or something.