Little (T.S.T) + (T.D.C)

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Chapter 20:
>Hey, one more would be helpful, right?<
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Darcy sat under a shelter, staring at her arm wrapping. Over the past few months, Jorge had cleaned it for her. On the bright side, it didn't look any worse. On the downside, it didn't look any better.

She tried her best to avoid looking at it when it was getting it cleaned. It gave her flashbacks of the day she got it, and that wasn't a fun day for her. Even though she acted like it didn't bother her, that day had left a scar on her. Not just on her arm, but on her brain, too.

People had been asking and asking and asking how she was doing. She was getting sick if it. Being asked the same question over and over again got real annoying real quick, and it's not like her answer was changing. Fine, she would say. Awful, her brain would scream.

Even though Brenda had gotten her bite fixed, Darcy never got a chance to. And now that Mary was gone, she had no hope.

She was still left wondering whether or not she was immune. Whether or not she would start to slowly turn into a zombie thingy. She knew that she would definitely rather be dead than ever suffer that fate. Darcy wanted to tell someone that. That she would rather be dead than be a zombie thingy, but she didn't know who to trust. The only ones that came to her mind were Newt, Thomas and Fry. Thomas already had enough on his plate, so she couldn't tell him. Newt had lost his best friend, so he was out of the picture, too.

Guess it will have to be Fry.

Her thoughts wandered back to Vince's speech. Darcy was confused by it; the way he spoke made it sound like they weren't going to go back after Minho. But they would, wouldn't they? They had to.

"Hey, you okay?"

Brenda's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Splendid."

Brenda pointed to her arm wrapping, which Darcy didn't realise she had been holding out in front of her. "You keep getting asked about it too, huh?"

Darcy sighed as she nodded. "It's getting annoying. Actually, scratch that. It's been annoying since the first time someone asked me."

The oldest of the two girls laughed.

A silence settled between them, but Darcy broke it with the first thing to come to her mind. Anything to just get to talking.

"So... you and Tommy, huh?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Tommy?"

"Tommy. Tomato. Tomothy. Whichever you prefer."

"I kinda like Tomothy." She laughed.

"Now, don't avoid the question. Spill."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Brenda, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Do I need to spell it out for ya?"

"Yeah, actually. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Fine. Y-O-U L-O-V-E H-I--"

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Shut up, Darcy," joked Brenda, but she was laughing.