Criminally Vulgar

Chapter 2-

By the next morning, Bradley had decided that "Finch's" hostility was merely his apprehension and aversion to being brought to Camp New Grace manifesting itself. He would give him a second chance.

Unfortunately, Finch didn't seem too keen on a fresh start. He was just as unpleasant in the morning as he was the night before. Actually, he was less talkative, but his passive-aggression was made apparent in the grunts he used to answer any of Bradley's attempts at conversation. Bradley soon gave the effort up.

Hope was rekindled, however, by a therapy counselor assigning one-on-one discussions between accountabilibuddies. Surely this would open up communication, thought Bradley, and he thus had high hopes for the activity. They seated themselves in one corner of the room, with Bradley holding the list of discussion topics and questions given them by the counselor. Finch sat across from him, pulling on he rough material of his new camp shirt.

"Okay, so…" Bradley read off the first question on the paper: " 'Consider the quote, 'Temptation is attractive.' What does this mean to you personally?'"

Finch was silent. For a long time. Bradley waited.

"Do you want me to go first…?"

"I want you to shut up." The reply was soft, but icy, and seething with enmity. Bradley stopped dead and stared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Again, his voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes were trained away from him, hiding behind his bangs again.

"Nathan, I don't know why—"

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not Nathan. I haven't been "Nathan" in years. I'm Finch." He bit the words out. His belligerent edge was beginning to get to Bradley.

"Look, I know this is hard, but you're not making it any easier."

"I'm not making it anything, because I refuse to put up with it."

Bradley just stared. What was with this guy? "Okay, then you ask me questions." He tried handing the paper to Finch, who made no effort to grab the page, and it fluttered uselessly to the ground. Neither boy moved for a while. "The whole point of this exercise is for us to open up to each other."

"Maybe I don't want to open up to you. Did you ever think of that?"

"What is your problem?" Bradley finally asked, his aggravation bleeding into his voice. "All you've done since you got here was make snarky comments and push me away."

"Good. Right on schedule."

"Nathan—"

"Are you deaf? I said—"

"I don't care what you said, Nathan."

"You call me that one more time, and you will regret it." Bradley was indignant.

"Are you threatening me now?"

"No, I'm promising you."

Bradley rose. He had to get away. Nothing good would come of their tempers flying off the handle. He muttered something about the bathroom, and took off. In the men's room, he tried soothing is frustration with calming breaths and tried to remind himself that Finch was new, and just wasn't adjusting well, and that he might as well try to get along with him because they were accountabilibuddies. Oh God, how would he survive with Finch as his accountabilibuddy? Surely one of them would kill the other before long.

Well, as long as they were going to hell, anyway…

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