SEVEN DAYS
Tuesday
7:55 AM
My eyes felt like they had been rubbed dry and my jaw was aching from yawning by the time I made it to school. Katie was waiting for me by the main entrance and I followed her to her locker as she babbled on about her party some more. Students rushed past us, some in clumps that took up the entire length of the hallway, others by themselves, looking annoyed at the groups that blocked their path and slowed them down.
Katie was playing with the collar of my shirt, looking up at me as she talked about the privacy her bedroom would give us at her party, when I saw Bryce out of the corner of my eye. My head turned on its own, following the guy as he passed by, his backpack hanging on his narrow shoulders, still smudged with dirt. He was staring ahead, but I could tell he wasn't seeing anything in front of him. His body was on autopilot as his mind was distracted by something else in his head.
"Do you know him?" Katie asked me. The tone in her voice was akin to revulsion. I glanced at her, and sure enough, she had that bitchy 'I'm-better-than-you' look on her face as she watched Bryce walk down the hallway. She had worn that same expression last week when a girl had walked into Spanish class sporting a similar skirt as her.
"I've talked with him," I answered, trying to sound nonchalant about the encounter. "Why?"
"I don't know why girls keep asking him out," she huffed, not really answering my question. "He's so messed up."
"Messed up?" I echoed. I had not expected the cruel description. "How's he messed up?"
The bell rang and Katie shut her locker. "See you in Spanish class, Dean," she said, blowing me a kiss and giving a wink before she shimmied her way down the hallway. I had a feeling she hadn't heard a thing I had said to her.
I glanced back the way Bryce had gone, knowing I was going to have to speak with him eventually. I was still a little uncomfortable with the way we had left things about the whole dating situation, but it wasn't that which warranted a talk. The real reason was not because I was worried he was going to spread strange rumours about us. It was because of his comment about monsters. I had thought about it all night, once I had gotten over the fact that he had assumed we were dating, and the more I analyzed his words the more speculative I became. Why had he mentioned monsters like that? Had he seen one? Did he know they existed?
If there was even a remote possibility, I had decided that it was irresponsible to casually brush his comment off as I had. If Bryce had in fact seen a monster, if he was in danger in any way, I didn't want to hear about his death on the news days or weeks later knowing that I could have prevented it. I was already dealing with enough guilt as it was. I didn't need another death on my conscience.
I found him in the library after first period, reading a volume of 'Lord of the Rings'. I pulled out the chair beside him and sat down, taking out some textbook I had never glanced at to make it look like I was here to read in the silence. Inside the book was a Playboy magazine I had stuffed in there before school, but that didn't matter. I wasn't going to open the thing.
"Hey," I greeted, and it took a moment for him to look up and acknowledge me, as if he was finishing a sentence or mentally pulling himself away from the story he was reading.
"Hi," he said back before returning his gaze to the book. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to make sure we were cool," I lied, though I supposed double checking didn't hurt. "I mean, we're clear on things, right?"
"Yeah, we're cool." I could tell he was half absorbed in the book, his words sounding distant.
I waited a few moments for him to say more, but he remained silent. "You reading about monsters or something?" I asked, because I didn't really know how else to bring it up. I had never been very delicate when breaking the big news to people in the past. It was a skill probably more suited to Sam. He had always been the one with the people-skills, not me. The kid could probably tell someone they had cancer and only had three months left to live and they would come out of the conversation thinking life wasn't so bad.
Bryce didn't answer. I couldn't tell if he was ignoring me, maybe still upset from my rejection, or if he was just too focused on reading and not a great multitasker. The silence in the library began to grow stifling and I suddenly lost my nerve to ask him about his strange comment. I told myself it was probably nothing. He couldn't possibly know the truth. If he had seen a real monster he wouldn't be in this dusty library right now, reading fantasy on his spare time, or agreeing to go out with whoever asked him to. He was just the same as all of the others, his head full of fiction because his real life was mundane, his biggest fear being cornered by an ugly girl at the front gates of the school on Monday morning.
I cursed myself for having wasted my time. Then I slipped my textbook into my backpack and got up silently. He didn't seem to notice when I left.
12:30 PM
I had decided to eat lunch outside on the bleachers because I didn't want to listen to Katie today. Not many people were out here on account that it was slightly raining. I had my hood pulled over my head, enjoying the silence as I bit into the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I had quickly made this morning. I didn't like Chicken Tuesdays anymore than I enjoyed Monday Surprise. I had heard rumours that a student had found a feather still attached to her chicken last year and I didn't want to take any chances.
I suddenly heard my name being called and looked around the garden, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. Aside from a group of stoners huddled in the far corner, there was no one around.
"Dean!" The voice yelled louder. I realized it was coming from behind me just as a pebble missed my head by a few inches and bounced off the bleacher's first two benches. I stood up and looked over the brick wall. Below me, standing on the sidewalk, was Sam.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked my brother.
"Meet me at the east gate."
Then he was heading down the street and I had no choice but to obey. But when I made it to our destination someone else greeted me.
"Hey."
I swung my head to the left, following the sudden voice, and noticed Bryce crouching by the side gate. He was sitting on his haunches, his back leaning against the bricks behind him, his fingers twiddling with a brown leaf as his hands rested on his knees.
I opened my mouth to reply, to ask him what he was doing here instead of enjoying lunch inside, when I heard Sam approaching. I swivelled my head to the right and saw the kid bounding down the sidewalk. His backpack must have weighed a ton, because he seemed to be struggling with it as he ran. One of the straps had torn a few months ago and now he had to lug his books around on one shoulder.
"Dean!" he called again, reaching a hand up to wave above his head. I watched him with anxious eyes as he approached, wondering what could possibly have been so important that he had skipped school to tell me. As he finally reached the side gate he bent over and placed his hands on his knees, regaining his breath. I reached over and took the bag from him, worrying he was going to break his shoulder if he continued to insist on dragging the whole library with him wherever he went.
"Jesus, Sam," I grunted as I lowered it to the ground. "What do you have in here? A bag of cement?" My brother didn't seem to hear me. He looked up with wide, bright eyes, his cheeks flushed from running.
"Did you forget your phone?" he asked me, already having recovered his breath. "Dad called me. He said he's been trying to get in contact with you."
I cursed, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my cell. The battery was dead. "I forgot to charge it last night," I mumbled. It was the first time I had forgotten.
"Well, dad wants you back at the motel by two thirty today. He said he needs your help. You're going to have to-" He seemed to notice something, his face showing uncertainty as he glanced around me.
I had forgotten Bryce was there myself, but I didn't look behind me as I pushed Sam up the street a ways and out of earshot. "What did dad say?" I prodded.
"He just said he needed your help. Nothing more."
I wondered what help he needed. Was my dad finally giving me another chance? Was he going to ask me to attend his latest hunt with him? I had never hunted a Succubus before. The thought made me both excited and anxious at the same time. There was nothing more I wanted than to gain my father's trust back, but my gut involuntarily twisted inside of me as I thought about returning to the hunt.
"Two thirty?" I confirmed, swallowing. Sam nodded his head and then I was handing him his backpack again. "I got the message. Now get your ass back to school before you miss something important."
Sam beamed. "I'm on lunch break right now."
"So instead of eating you came here to give me dad's message?"
He shrugged, though it was more of a one-shouldered movement with his school bag in place again. "It was important."
"Take this and eat it on your way back." I handed him the second half of my sandwich. "And tell dad I got his message. I'll be there by two thirty."
"Got it."
As Sam left I turned around, prepared to go back into the school. I was beginning to feel the cold and I hoped it stopped raining soon. I didn't want Sam to get back to class drenched.
Bryce got to his feet as I approached the east gate, readjusting the straps on his shoulders. "Is that your brother?" he asked, gesturing to Sam as the boy trundled up the hill.
"Yeah, my kid brother." I made a mental note to buy Sam a new backpack as I watched him go.
"You two don't seem very alike."
"We aren't," I stated as Sam disappeared around the corner. "What are you doing out here anyway? It's raining."
"Better getting wet out here than dodging questions in there."
"Dodging questions?"
He sighed. "All the girls are asking me who I'm dating this week. I don't lie, remember?."
I felt my irritation level spike. "You better not be telling them you're dating me or I swear to god-"
He held his hands up in front of him as if to stop my threat. "I'm not. Don't worry. Besides, you think anyone would believe me? Katie Lancaster would have my head on a spike if she thought I was defacing your name in anyway, because that would mean her name would get dirtied as well."
I frowned at him. "Look, I've got no problem if you're gay. Dating you wouldn't be... a defacement. It's just not who I am."
"I've got it."
Did he though? I was a lot of things, but homophobic was not one. I didn't want this guy thinking I was afraid of gay rights or something. How could I be when there were real monsters out there, not normal, ordinary people who were segregated and demonized for the petty fact that they were attracted to members of the same sex.
"Why do you go out with all those girls then?" I couldn't help but ask. I was curious. It was one thing to be gay and keep it a secret by not yelling it in public, but to date a different girl every week? That was a little overkill.
"I'm not gay," he said. "I told you before, appearance doesn't matter to me. That's all."
I wasn't buying it. "I don't know, man. Settling for an ugly chick is a little different than settling for a dude."
"You don't understand." He looked irritated, a crease forming between his eyes. It was about the most emotion I had seen displayed on his face since I had met the guy. "It doesn't matter who I date, okay? I don't sleep with anyone. I rarely ever kiss them. It's not about that."
I was confused. The lunch bell rang and I looked at the side entrance of the school, but then returned my gaze to Bryce. "Then what's it about?" I didn't know why I was so adamant about understanding his motives. I should have stopped this conversation eons ago, but I supposed it was proving to be a good distraction. I hadn't even thought about my father's request for help, or the possibility of going on another hunt since-
"They're just distractions."
That was not what I had expected him to say, and I recoiled, his reasoning similar to my own. "What is that supposed to mean? Distractions from what?"
He wrapped his arms around himself, as if the rain and the lack of sun was finally making him cold. "Nothing, all right? Forget I ever said we were dating. Forget we ever even met yesterday. I'll pretend I don't know you and you can do the same."
Then he was walking back through the gate. He didn't wait for me to follow him and that was fine. We weren't friends. We definitely weren't more than friends. I was glad I had straightened that out. Things could go back to normal. I never thought that would be a relief, always having considered normal boring, but that was the exact emotion I felt as I entered the school and was hit with a blast of heated air.
My relief was short-lived, however, because suddenly I was filled with anxiety. What did my dad have to speak to me about? Was he finally going to address what had happened? Was he finally going to make me relive the event verbally? It was all I could think about the rest of the day. Even when Katie got angry at me for standing her up during lunch I was too preoccupied by my worries to apologize. I even rejected her hand job in Spanish class.
2:30 PM
John was packing the last few of his knives into a duffel bag when I got back to the motel room. "I thought you were leaving at noon," was the first thing I said to him. I assumed he would explain why he was still here but instead he threw another duffel bag at me.
"Pack Sam's clothes in there," he ordered me.
I was confused. "Are we leaving?"
He didn't answer me, and so I began to stuff a few of Sam's shirts into the grey bag as I waited for the man to reply. I knew better than to force an answer from him.
"You're going to stay here and you're going to go to school," he finally said after a few minutes. I was zipping up Sam's bag, having packed his last few articles of clothing. "I got a call from one of your teachers today. He said one of your assignments is late."
"It's just a stupid essay," I explained. "He assigned it on my first day. I'll tell him I'm still trying to adjust to the new school and I'm sure he'll give me an extension."
John grunted but didn't push the topic any further. I stood as I watched him zip up his own duffel bag, still waiting for an explanation. Still wondering whether it would be good or bad news. Then, there it was.
"I'm bringing Sam with me."
I stared at him for a moment, trying to process his words. "You're bringing Sam?" I repeated like an idiot.
My dad nodded his head and I tried to come up with a reason why Sam was needed on the hunt. Before I could ask, my dad was already answering. "Sam needs to start learning the family business. He needs to know how to protect himself and how to take on a Supernatural being. They don't teach that stuff in the books he reads."
I tried to imagine Sam on a hunt, carrying around a sawed-off shotgun that stood more than half the length of him. I knew he could fire one no problem, that he had on more than one occasion during shooting practice, but Sam had never killed anything before. He had never aimed his gun at a living, breathing thing, whether evil or not. He had never been put into a situation where innocent lives were at risk and it was his responsibility to ensure the end results were in their favour.
"You want him to help you hunt a Succubus?" I didn't fear for the kid's physical safety, not with my dad around. But what if the hunt caused damage that Sam could not be protected from? The thought filled me with panic. I didn't want my brother to be subject to the same torment I felt. I didn't want him to know what it was like to watch someone die in front of you knowing you could have stopped the event from happening.
"Sammy's just a kid," I said, trying hard not to raise my voice. "I was older when you took me on my first hunt. He's not ready to-"
"He's going to have to learn someday, Dean. The earlier he starts learning what's really out there, the better."
I could feel the panic rising inside of me. "If it's just another set of hands you need on this hunt, I can help you, dad. It doesn't have to be Sam."
"It can't be you, Dean. Sam will be fine."
"Dad, I-"
"Just do as I've told you." His voice had changed. It had gained that cold, hard edge I was all too familiar with. It meant that he was done with the conversation and the smartest thing I could do was shut up and accept it.
I lowered my head, praying to god he wouldn't see the anxiety I knew was displayed on my face. "Yes sir," I answered. I battled the dread that was threatening to consume me. I tried not to picture a broken Sam, his eyes soulless and his face devoid of anything that had once made him my little brother. I was always encouraging him to spend his time training instead of reading books, but the truth was I had been secretly glad that Sam didn't show much interest in hunting the supernatural. It meant he was easier to protect.
That was my job, wasn't it? To protect. If I couldn't even shield my little brother, what hope did I have in saving anyone else?
"I'm going to pick him up at school and leave straight away. We won't be back for a couple of days." John grabbed Sam's bag from my hand and slung it over his shoulder with his own duffel full of knives. On his way out the door he said, "And stop with the burgers for dinner. You've got to start eating healthier."
7:15 PM
I took my dad's advice about my eating habits. The local burger joint wasn't that great, anyway. The portions were too small and the food was always cold by the time I got back to the motel. Instead I decided to scour a nearby convenience store, wondering if I could find something quick and edible for dinner. For once I didn't have to consider Sam's taste, though that thought didn't exactly fill me with joy.
I didn't even realize some of my classmates were in the store until I made my way to the front to pay. I way carrying a box of cereal in one hand and a jug of milk in the other when I saw three kids I recognized from the hallways of Kimberley Trenton high school. I knew one of them was from my year, a redhead who I had seen knock a few geeks against lockers. He was accompanied by two others, a large kid who looked like he was a miniature giant, and a blonde in a polo shirt with a face that was too long.
They were surrounding someone who was waiting in line, and I cursed my luck as I realized who it was. Bryce Caldwell. I recognized him even though his back was turned to me. He was still carrying his backpack, and it still had not been cleaned.
"Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with you, huh?" the big guy asked, giving Bryce a little shove. "You didn't find anyone to date this week? Have the girls finally realized you're a freak?" As the three friends laughed I figured they were in the middle of bullying Bryce. I didn't want to get involved and considered leaving, but instead I stood there and listened.
"Hey Andrew," the redhead called to the blonde. "Didn't your girlfriend date this loser?"
"That was last year, man." Andrew seemed uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, looking irritated at his friend for bringing it up.
"Come on. What, you don't talk?" The big guy shoved Bryce again, this time harder. Bryce had to stumble a little to keep his footing, but he righted himself with no comment, continuing to wait patiently in line as if there weren't three assholes harassing him.
"He probably doesn't understand us," Redhead offered, flicking Bryce's ear. "He's half Chinese, isn't he?"
"He grew up here, you dumbass," Andrew replied. "He can understand us just fine."
"So what, he's just ignoring us then?" Redhead was getting a little angry. He flicked Bryce's ear again. "He won't even defend himself. Aren't the Chinese supposed to be good at martial arts and shit?"
Big Guy let out a guffaw. "What's he going to do to us? Look at how scrawny he is."
"I wouldn't underestimate him." Redhead smiled wickedly. "He's already killed one person, hasn't he?"
Bryce reacted with such speed I barely had time to process that he had moved before he was on top of Redhead, pummelling him with his fists as the guy cowered on the ground. It seemed Big Guy and Andrew were just as shocked, because it took a few seconds before they attempted to pull him off of their friend, throwing him backwards where he crashed into a display of cream-filled eggs. A number of the chocolates went scattering across the tiled floor, and the cashier began shouting for everyone to get out as two other customers hastily exited the store.
The boys didn't seem to hear the middle-aged woman, however, because as Bryce tried to stand up Big Guy was stomping towards him. He grabbed Bryce by the collar and heaved him upwards, pushing him back until he slammed against the front counter. The cashier screamed and moved back, colliding with the wall of cigarettes behind her and causing a few packs to tumble to the ground. Big Guy slammed a fist into Bryce's stomach, causing him to double up and gasp for air. Meanwhile, Andrew had already helped his friend up, who was now sporting a messy, gory nose that matched his hair colour. There was a ferocious snarl on his face and I watched him crush a number of chocolate eggs beneath his feet as he made his way towards his friend and Bryce.
In most circumstances I would have simply watched, not really the type who liked to join in brawls that weren't mine, but it always pissed me off when a fight became unfair. Not only was Bryce facing three guys by himself, but he was also a lot scrawnier than them. Even if the cashier had already called the cops, Bryce was still probably going to get the shit kicked out of him before they arrived.
"You fucking dickshit!" Redhead screamed as he shoved Big Guy out of the way and took a swing at Bryce. The kid managed to avoid the fist, twisting his head to the side now that he was given more freedom. That only seemed to make Redhead angrier, and this time he managed to press a forearm against Bryce's neck, pinning him against the top of the counter. He drew back a fist, but just as he was about to let it come crashing down on Bryce's face, I decided to step in.
I had picked up one of the chocolate eggs from the floor and I tossed it at Redhead, hitting him in the back of the head. It was enough to distract him from his main goal, and he cranked his head around sharply to stare at me. I waved before calling out, "Mind making this a fair fight?"
The three guys looked confused for a moment, but then Redhead was spitting a wad of blood on the floor before growling, "Get out of here, shitface. This isn't your fight, and Katie isn't here for you to hide behind."
I smirked at his comment. "True." I took a casual step forward, my hands clenched into fists beside me. "Katie isn't here to hide behind, but I think I'll take my chances with you three."
Redhead glanced at his large friend. "Take care of this asshole, would you?"
Big Guy stepped forward but then seemed to hesitate as I pierced him with a glare. I already knew he would rely on his girth to knock me down. I would have to come in low and hit him hard. That was the only way I would be able to get him off of his feet and out of the fight for at least the beginning. It would be easy to knock Andrew out in a punch or two. He obviously had no fighting ability. I would have to recover from the tackle quickly though, and then there was Redhead. I couldn't decide whether he would split or stay after his friends were taken out of the equation. Was he a runner or a fighter?
"I've called the cops!" the cashier yelled from a hallway at the side of the store, her head poking out of the narrow entrance. "You kids better get out of my store before they get here."
I blinked once at the three boys, Bryce still struggling against Redhead's arm, his face turning a shade of purple. Big Guy was hesitating even more now, and as he glanced back at Redhead I knew the fight wasn't going to happen. It would have to be saved for another day.
Redhead finally released Bryce, stepping back as he pointed a finger at the guy. "You so much as look me in the eyes at school and you're dead," he spat. "I'll send you to hell myself." Redhead then turned his finger to me. "And you. You better watch your back, asshole."
As they left, I wondered if a threat like that had actually made anyone fearful before, but my musings were quickly interrupted by the cashier who was continuing to yell bloody murder from her hallway. I quickly grabbed Bryce, who was doubled over coughing by the counter, and pulled him out of the store and down the street a few blocks. By the time we had put a safe distance between us and the store, he had become quiet, though his voice was raw when he spoke.
"Thanks," he said.
"You get in fights like that often?" I asked him, though I didn't expect an answer. I grabbed his wrist and turned his palm to the floor so that I could get a good view of his knuckles in the light of a streetlamp above us. He let out a huff of irritation but he didn't try to pull away. His knuckles were red and beginning to bruise, a few cuts standing out where the skin had split. I noticed his thumb looked a little swollen, and when I went to touch it he quickly drew back his hand, hissing in pain.
I smirked. "You obviously don't fight much," I remarked. "Don't even know how to deliver a hit properly. When making a fist, make sure your thumb is on the outside." I reached for his other hand and positioned his fingers into a proper fist. "Like this," I told him. "That way you won't injure yourself as badly. No broken digits."
I looked up to see if he had gotten the message, if he was paying attention to my instructions, but the force of his gaze surprised me. He was looking at me with a mixture of emotions, the most clear being confusion, but obviously not caused by my words. He seemed to be more puzzled about why I was teaching him in the first place.
Looking away, I let his hand go and it dropped back to his side. "Anyway, you should get your thumb checked out. Just looks like a bad sprain, but you never know."
He said nothing in reply but just continued to stare. I looked around, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Yeah, so don't expect me to help out next time. You were lucky I live around here." Still, no response. "I'll be going then," I said, taking a step back.
"You wanna go get something to eat?" he asked me. It was my turn to have no words. "Have you eaten dinner yet?" he prodded further.
I shook my head. "No. I was kind of buying it when your little fight interrupted me and got us kicked out of the store."
"You were buying dinner at a convenience store?"
"What's wrong with that?"
He smiled, and for once it was a genuine one. I could hardly believe it. This guy had just gotten the crap kicked out of him and now he was deciding to smile? "Nothing's wrong with that," he replied. "But I know someplace better."
I frowned. I hadn't exactly been ecstatic about the Lucky Charms I had decided to eat, and returning to an empty motel room with an empty stomach or cold hamburgers wasn't very appealing either. "What did you have in mind?"
8:33 PM
I had never been in a restaurant like this before. Bryce had taken me to some foreign Asian place, and although the pictures of dishes plastered all over the front window didn't look all too bad, I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into.
The place was dead inside, though Bryce assured me that it was only because it was late on a Tuesday night. There was a young Asian girl standing by the door when we entered, her black hair in pigtails that stuck out from the sides of her head. "Oppa!" she greeted excitedly. As we sat down at a booth she began to say something in another language, her words too quick for me to even hope to hear clearly. Bryce looked over the table at me with a slight smile before returning his attention to her.
He motioned for her to come closer and she leaned over. As he whispered something in her ear I watched as her eyes grew wide. She stepped back, glancing from me to Bryce, before she ran away shrieking and giggling. Bryce chuckled and I looked at him suspiciously. "What the fuck just happened?" I asked, not too thrilled that I had been unable to understand their conversation.
"She was just curious about you. She asked me who you are."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what exactly did you tell her?"
He shrugged innocently. "Just that you were the new kid at my school."
I didn't believe him for a second, but I couldn't figure out what had made the girl go screaming like she had just gotten a pony for Christmas. I decided to change the topic, feeling uncomfortable. "She called you 'oppa' when we first came in," I mentioned. "What's that mean?"
"It means 'brother' in Korean. Just a term girls call older guys they're close to."
"So that's what this all is," I said as I looked around the place. We had entered a small restaurant with wooden tables and booths. The writing on the walls and on the menu were all in some strange alphabet I couldn't recognize. It consisted of a number of lines and circles. I figured it was Korean. If Sam had been here he probably would have already known that.
"Yeah, I come here often," Bryce admitted. "My mother was Korean."
Was. I looked at him, frowning, noting that we had both lost our mothers. "Did she introduce you to this place?"
"No, I found it on my own a few years back. Been a regular ever since." He opened his mouth to say more but then seemed to hesitate. "How about we order? You hungry?"
I picked up a menu and looked at it quizzically. "Maybe if I could read this alien script."
I heard Bryce laugh and it stilled my search for a moment. It was the first time I had heard the guy laugh like that, and the sound was so unexpected that it threw me off for a moment. I quickly recollected myself and tossed the menu back on the table. "I'll just have what you're having," I announced.
"You sure?" he asked. "Food here can be pretty spicy."
I looked at him like he had just insulted me, taking his words as a challenge. "Bring it on."
An hour later I was draining my cup of water for the fifth time, my tongue and mouth on fire. I didn't know what kind of secret ingredient Koreans had, but this stuff was fucking hot. Bryce refused to stop laughing as I struggled to use the chopsticks he had presented to me at the beginning of our meal. I had given up using them the proper way a long time ago, choosing to spear pieces of food with the wooden sticks instead.
I stabbed a long tube-like piece of food – something called duk bokki, according to Bryce – with a chopstick, making sure to keep the food in place as I guided it to my mouth. However, before I could swallow it the food slid from the utensil and fell onto my lap.
Bryce broke out into a fit of laughter across from me and I scowled at him. "Give me a break, it's my first time," I argued, annoyed that I had been refused a fork or spoon to use. Hell, even a knife would have been better. I watched as Bryce picked up one of the duk bokki with the two sticks, expertly taking a bite of one side before grinning at me.
I rolled my eyes, plucking the fallen food from my lap and shoving it into my mouth with my fingers. "Don't worry," Bryce said. "It takes practice. You'll get used to it."
I mumbled a curse as I used a napkin to angrily wipe at the red sauce that now covered my jeans. And suddenly I was recalling the blood that had splattered my clothes during that night. My movements stopped, my body growing rigid again.
Not now. Not here.
I closed my eyes, hoping to gain control of the remorse that was quickly flooding me. "Are you all right?" I heard Bryce ask. I refused to look across the table at him. Instead, I forced myself to open my eyes and continue wiping the sauce from my pants, praying this was not the beginning of another attack.
"Yeah," I replied, my voice only slightly shaky. "But do they sell alcohol here? I could use a drink."