Absolute Contamination

13/ The Painful Truth

CHAPTER 13: THE PAINFUL TRUTH 

“I take it you’re not contaminated then,” I spoke in a hushed voice when I noticed a sleeping Emily was wearing Christophe’s sweater. Rubbing my eyes to feel a little more awake, I tried to sit upright. Morning had definitely come too soon for me, although, I was thankful as well for the little sleep I had gotten, even if it hadn’t been enough.

Instead of answering my question, Christophe showed me his test that was no longer white. As he held that small piece of paper up for me to see, he raised his eyebrows, giving me that face that said as much as ‘I told you so,’ but then without the need of words.

“Well, that’s nice,” I smiled lightheartedly, yet relieved at the same time. “Because that means you can carry that backpack now, you know? My shoulders and back are very pleased that you’re not infected.”

Christophe shook his head at me in a teasing way while stiffening a yawn, and as he ran his hand down his cheek, I could hear the barely visible stubble on his cheek scratch against the palm of his hand. When his green eyes met mine, I couldn’t help the small smile from forming on my face. Knowing that he wasn’t contaminated at all was a big relief to me. Apparently wishful thinking did work from time to time.

“Did you get any sleep at all?” I wondered, sounding very mom-like when I noticed him stifling another yawn.

“No, not really.”

 He yawned again as I took my water bottle that still lay next to my backpack.

“I thought it would be best if someone kept an eye on things,” he explained, “especially after what happened with Hunter.”

That last part caused me to spit out the water I was about to swallow, all over my shoes. Water seemed to have gone down my windpipe as well, causing me to cough pretty badly.

“Are you alright?” Christophe asked, confused by my weird reaction – or maybe he was just concerned that I was about to choke to death while drinking.

“How do you know about him?” I asked rather unfriendly, my voice quavering with anger as I tried to keep myself from coughing again.

“Emily told me about him, last night, right after you fell asleep,” he let me know, sounding unsure. Most likely he wondered what he had done wrong or if he was the reason behind my strange behavior – well deserved.

It wasn’t completely clear to me why, but the mere mention of Hunter had caused a sickening feeling to my stomach. Perhaps it was the anger, or sudden tsunami of sad memories that had flooded me, but I felt sick and trapped. No matter the fact that we were sitting at the side of the road, in open air, I felt trapped as though invisible walls had closed in on me.

Acting on automatic pilot, I stood upright, ignoring the sudden wave of dizziness that washed over me.

“Why don’t you want to talk about this?” Christophe asked confused, and then continued with more concern, “And…Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“You never tell anything about you, so why should I?” I replied accusingly before storming off, intentionally ignoring the last part of what he had said – of course I didn’t feel alright.

Hunter, and what had happened to him, was something private. It hurt so much to talk about, and it would continue to hurt for a very long time. The wound was still too fresh and having to talk about it felt like pouring vinegar all over a bleeding gash that hadn’t had any time to heal yet. Tears sprung from my eyes, and I couldn’t quite tell whether they were from the painful memories or because of the anger that had built inside me, but they were tears nonetheless.