In the dim light he catches a vague hint of a smile. He smiled himself, a bit sheepishly. He felt his own mood lighten. “W-well, yeah. I was wondering if you were ever…” He looked away really quickly, trying to cover up the fact that he could feel the heat in his face. “If you wanted to, I don’t know, go out sometime?” He looked back at her now, nervous and expectant.
A laugh escaped her lips, she didn’t mean to, but it was happy laughter. She could see all of Butch’s features, thanks to the window behind her, she could see the red creeping into his cheeks, the awkward smile on his lips, and the bright blue of his eyes.
Freya took a step forward and touched the outside of Butch’s fidgeting hands, “I definitely want to.”
His face turned redder as she kept talking. That day had been very, well, confusing. “No, no. I didn’t like her like that. She’s, we’re just friends now. I…” He frowned, maybe this worked out better in his head. “I don’t know what I was feeling then, I think I was confused, but I’m not anymore.” He resisted the urge to reach out his hand and take her own again. Instead he picked at the hem of his shirt, catching only a vague glimpse of her expression. He tried to gauge how she was even feeling at the moment, toward him, or about anything at all.
Freya released a sigh she hadn’t realized she was holding. A genuine smile crept onto her lips before she asked her next questions, “Well what are you not confused about? And if you don’t like Violet like that, then if there someone else?” Freya knew she was being coy but it felt good to have the upper hand, for once.
Her eyes were distracted by Butch’s hands playing with his camp t-shirt, it was odd how much someones hands said about them. Like her own, Freya noticed that Butch had calluses on his palms and his knuckles. She wanted to hold his big hands in her small ones once again, but refrained from touching him. She instead looked into his eyes smiling happily.
Butch could not wait to get out of that party. He needed to talk to Freya. In fact, he had needed to talk to Freya a very long while ago, but he had put it off. He was regretting that right now. So he closed the door behind him, and led her around to the side of the cabin, not letting go of her hand yet. When he got a bit further away from the door, he stopped walking and turned to face her. It was dark out, and he could only see a vague sort of outline of her from the light of the window behind her.
He let go of her hand, and dropped them at his side. He opened his mouth a few times, he wasn’t sure what to say, exactly, now that they were both here. “So, I uh, I feel like an asshole.” He said “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked Violet out that one time, it wasn’t fair to you, I don’t know what came over me, and I feel awful about it.” He stopped himself, aware that he would start to ramble more.
Freya let herself be led around the cabin to stand by one of the many windows. Butch released her hand and with his hand also left his warmth, which was instantly replaced by the night air. Freya crossed her arms in front of her chest to ward off the chill and tried to ignore the itch of sadness she felt when he let her go.
When the words “I feel like an asshole” left Butch’s mouth Freya’s head snapped up from looking at the ground, she met his gaze and scrunched her eyebrows together subconsciously. When the name Violet left his lips, she understood. Freya had done her best to not think about Butch’s abrupt date proposal, to Violet, one of the people she felt closest to at camp. She had secretly hoped they had nothing to talk about and the time they spent together was awkward and forced, but Freya knew better. Violet was so easy to talk to, always speaking her mind, and Butch was a gentlemen, when he wasn’t letting his temper rule his actions.
Freya was still looking at Butch, and she realized he had stopped talking, probably hoping for some sort of response. She looked down at her converse clad feet and took a sudden breath, “Don’t feel like an asshole. You were just acting on your feelings,” she paused not sure if she should keep talking, but her father had constantly droned that honesty was the best policy so she continued, “and it’s okay if your feelings differ form mine, sometimes that happens and it uh just can’t be helped.” Freya awkwardly smiled at the ground, trying to hide her discomfort.
[walks out of her cabin and sits on a picnic table, all the while drinking hot tea]
[sighs because this is why he didn’t want to tell her; girls are emotional] I mean, yeah, it can affect your eyesight. But I definitely saw them.
[takes a deep breath] Okay okay okay [takes another deep breath clearing her head] So are they okay? I mean I know they were bandaged and bloody but will they survive?
Uh… [looks at her for a moment, really not wanting to be the one to tell her or anyone this] Last time I was in the infirmary, Katie and Violet were in there all bloody. Katie’s arm and head were bandaged up.
[looks at Travis not understanding what she’s hearing] Wha what? [shacking her head vigorously] No, no Travis, you misunderstood what you saw, you’ve been smoking a lot lately, that can affect your sight right? [Freya isn’t even believing herself anymore but it can’t be true, Katie and Violet can’t be hurt, it wouldn’t be fair]
[emerges, looking a little bit better and certainly not naked]
anyone know how Katie and Violet are doing?
[walks up to Travis cause I’m outside for reasons]
What do you mean, ‘how are Katie and Violet doing’?
So how is everyone?