Leaving Evidence
(16 years old)

Arnold lifted his team shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and rummaging through his duffel bag to find his clean plaid shirt.

"Woah!" Gerald's voice cried out from beside him in the locker room.

Arnold turned to face his best friend, and team mate, "What?" he asked.

"What the heck happened to you?" Gerald asked, his jaw hanging open.

"Gerald, what are you talking about?" Arnold said, eyeing him with concern.

"Your back!" Gerald cried, pulling him over to the nearby mirror, motioning for him to take a look.

Arnold's face dropped as his eyes fell upon the large scratches up his back, trailing from his shoulder blades down to his waist.

"Oh wow..." Arnold muttered, a small smile creeping to his face as he realised what, or rather who, had caused them.

"Did a wild beast attack you or something man?" Gerald said sarcastically, eyeing his friend suspiciously.

"Something like that." Arnold smirked, moving back toward his bag, hoping to quickly get a shirt on.

"That's nasty!" Harold Berman's voice echoed, as he entered the change rooms with Sid and Curly.

"Boy howdy!" Sid said in agreement.

Gerald shook his head, "Spill the beans man."

"There's nothing to spill, Gerald." Arnold insisted.

"Arnold, you came back after five years in the jungle without so much as a bruise, now you've got crazy claw marks up your back." Gerald glared.

"Yeah, either you had crazy kinky sex with someone... or Helga Pataki finally decided to maim you for having a football-shaped head." Sid said, staring thoughtfully at the deep scratches, as though he was trying to determine if they had been caused by anger or passion.

"Or..." Curly said, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "... he had crazy kinky sex with Helga Pataki."

Curly's comment caused all out laughter amongst the guys, excluding Arnold who simply watched them.

"Oh man, that's hilarious Curly." Gerald chuckled, "Arnold, why aren't you... Arnold, I don't like that look in your eyes man..."

"What look?" Arnold asked, distracting himself by pulling on his plaid shirt and beginning to button it up.

"That guilty look! Oh god, you did, didn't you?" Gerald gasped.

"Oh, he so did!" Harold said, pointing to the obvious blush present on Arnold's face.

"Details!" Curly demanded, looking expectantly toward him.

"Did the scratches happen during or after... or before?" Gerald raised an eyebrow.

"I bet that was one heck of an experience.." Sid mused, "I bet she's violent."

"I always thought she'd be crazy in bed!" Harold concurred.

"I can't believe you're still alive!" Gerald said with amazement.

"Guys!" Arnold said firmly, "Can you please stop talking about my girlfriend like that!"

Gerald's jaw practically hit the floor, "Your girlfriend?!"

Arnold sighed, "Yeah, but keep it to yourselves okay? Nobody's supposed to know."

"How long?" Curly questioned.

"Four months." Arnold mumbled, awaiting the inevitable reaction.

"Four months!" Gerald, Harold, Sid and Curly cried in unison.

"Dude, you've only been back for four months." Gerald reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, well, did I mention.." Arnold began, quickly throwing his bag over his shoulder, ".. that I've been in love with her since we were nine? No? Forgot to tell you? Oh well. Bye!" he said hurriedly, as he bolted out the change rooms.

"I think I need to sit down." Gerald mumbled, slumping onto the wooden bench beneath him as the door slammed shut behind his best friend.