Chapter Thirty-Six: Accidents Happen

Dear Jack,

Since I suspect you played a part in Sneakers' nefarious plan to drag me out of bed and back into the larger world of camp, you get to hear all about what's going on, whether you want to or not. Pay attention; there will be a quiz. So there.

So last night, Mush flipped his lid and kissed Blink. He's not gay, he did it to try and get girls off his back, but boy did that backfire. It turns out that the only thing Modie and Trixie love more than a theater boy is a homoerotic theater boy. Kind of makes me glad I'm in the closet.

(Well, actually, I think everyone knows. My alleged straightness is really just a polite fiction at this point. Everyone knows but since I don't talk about it, neither do they. I think they're afraid I might flip out or something.)

Things between Blink and Mush are...strained. They have a lot of conversations like this:

Mush: Can you pass the ketchup?
Blink: I'm NOT GAY, stop looking at me!
Mush: No one thinks you're gay.
Blink: Good, because I'm NOT! (at this point they shoot awkward looks at me) Not that there's anything wrong with being gay.
Mush: Oh, god no. But we're not gay.
Blink: You're kind of gay. You kissed me.
Mush: Do we have to keep bringing that up?

Hilarity.

They seem to have reached an agreement for forgiveness, pending a win in the upcoming sailing race. Mush has agreed to not do camper counselor tennis, so he can partner with Blink in the race. Mush had wanted to be in the tennis competition, but this way Blink will get off his back...as long as they win. I'm pretty sure that if Smurf wins, Blink will spontaneously explode though, so maybe it won't matter.

As for Smurf, she finds the whole thing with Mush and Blink even funnier than I do, and that's saying something. I think she'd be with Trixie in the 'gay boys are sooooo awesome' boat, but in order to admit she likes the idea of Mush and Blink kissing, she'd have to admit that she doesn't find Blink utterly repulsive. Though at this point basically everyone except for Blink has picked up on the fact that she finds him repulsive in that same way that I'm attracted to girls: not at all. But until she admits to that, the rest of us will likely continue to be subjected to round after round of you're-short-yeah-well-you're-stupid. Remind me again why you wanted me to leave the cabin?

So there's that. Yet, despite the whole shebang, Midsummer went off without a hitch. In fact, it went well enough that my protege decided she might consider doing the last show, too.

Have I mentioned her yet? Her name is Worm and she's thirteen. She's sour and sarcastic and she's here because her parents think she's too antisocial, so they shipped her off to camp for half the summer. When she found out I was here for the same reason, she kind of...latched on to me. I don't know how to deal with that. I've never been the more socially adjusted person in any given friendship. And she kind of...follows me around. I have absolutely no idea why, and frankly, it's a little bizarre.

Anyway, I'm thinking maybe I'll talk to Medda about stage managing the big show (which, by the way, will be Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat) instead of trying out. I'm not really in the mood to have people pay attention to me at the moment. I've had quite enough of people gaping at me in the last week, I don't need any more of it. Especially not if it's because of my stellar dancing abilities.

Well, it's just about time for lunch, so let me leave you with the afore mentioned quiz.

Q: Which makes me the most irritated?
A: Smurf and Blink yelling at each other;
B: Sneakers' continued insistence on being my buddy;
C: Everyone trying to convince me to talk about what happened;
or
D: You being gone.

Yours,
Davey

(PS: While E, All of the above, is also acceptable, the correct answer is D. See you in a week, miss you lots.)

David sealed the letter and pressed on a stamp. There was a large box in the dining hall for campers to drop letters into, which meant it was convenient for him to finish writing before a meal. Especially since some of the boys in his bunk were more prone to snooping than others, and he didn't want to leave around any confessions of his relationship with Jack. Not so much because he was shy about coming out to his bunkmates; they'd all made it more than clear that they would support him. But more because his relationship with Jack was so new, and had been interrupted so abruptly. He just wasn't ready to share yet, even though he was sure that made him crazy and neurotic, and wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

As the group trooped out to head to the dining hall, several minutes before the third bell, he found himself sandwiched between Mush and Skittery. "So... would that be a letter to Jack?" Skittery asked.

"So, would that be your over-investment in my life again?" David responded.

Skittery shrugged. "You call it over-investment, I call it healthy interest. Same difference."

"Oh, lay off him," Mush said. "If he doesn't want to admit that he and Jack had the torrid love affair of the summer, which everyone is talking about even if he won't say a word, and he's just too selfish to share details, that's up to him."

"Oh, yes, silly me." Skittery rolled his eyes.

"So instead of asking David for the nine-hundredth time," Mush continued dramatically, "I will change the subject. David, try outs for Joseph are this afternoon."

"And seriously, you think I'm the gay one?"

"Yes," Mush said simply. "Anyway, what role do you want?"

David shrugged. "I was thinking instead of trying out, I'd do tech or something."

"Okay, well, you can tell that to Medda," Mush agreed. "She'll cast you, regardless. You know that, right?"

"What?"

He chuckled. "Medda has spent the whole summer planning this. Every final show she does is the greatest music-cal she has ever produced. Off-Broadway, anyway. Which means she's been pre-casting everyone all summer, based on past performances. Which means that even if you don't try out, if she wants you in the show, she'll put you in the show. Regardless of auditions."

"But I can refuse, right?"

"Well, you can try," Mush said. "But you know what she's like. I'm not sure I'd be that brave, personally."

"But then, you haven't had to weather a tragic gay love affair ending with someone's shameful but so fascinating firing over the summer," Skittery said. "So clearly, David's far more worldly."

"Would you both shut up?" David sighed.

"So you don't deny it?" Mush asked.

"You know, you two spend an almost absurd amount of time fantasizing about my love life," David said, as they waited for the final bell.

David's table this week was surprisingly calm, luckily. None of his good friends were around, though by this late in the summer, he at least recognized all of the campers who were there. He glanced around for his bunkmates. Skittery was at the Higgins's table, and Race, after his fight with his parents, no longer was. (He was completely okay with that, and his mother only grumbled but didn't actually seem mad about it.) Mush and Snitch were in tables at the back that David could barely see from where he was. Sneakers was presiding over one of the tables by the large back windows. And Blink was a few tables away, in the middle. But apparently due to terrible planning on someone's part, he was back-to-back with Smurf, at the next table.

Considering the final sailing race of the summer was only a couple of days away, that seemed like a remarkably stupid idea to David. But then, no one asked his opinion (and he was surprised that there hadn't been any food thrown between tables yet). But his suspicions were, at least in part, justified by the end of the meal.

As everyone was beginning to file out, Mush caught up with Blink. "I don't know if I'll be able to practice with you this afternoon," he said quietly.

Blink glowered at him. "What? Why not?"

"I have to audition for the show!" He shrugged. "I already know how to sail, and besides, we've done it together a million times—"

"I'll bet you have."

They both turned to see Smurf and Trixie watching them, smirking. Well, Trixie was giggling, but Smurf was smirking.

Blink shoved Mush, who looked momentarily pained but not too surprised. "I'm not gay." Blink scowled right back at her.

"Mm-hmm." Smurf raised an eyebrow. "Well, we'll just let you continue with your lover's spat, and go prepare to beat you into the ground in the race."

Blink growled something and shoved Mush again. "Hey, let it go!" Mush snapped. "Come on, you have to expect a little teasing."

"No one teases you. And it wasn't my idea! I didn't exactly sign up for this!"

"Aw, but how could he resist?" Smurf asked. She reached forward and pinched Blink's cheek, to his very obvious annoyance. "Cutie that you are." Then she burst into laughter. "Oh, man, I'm hilarious! But seriously, Mush, why him? I mean, why not David—who's passably cute and probably actually gay?"

David rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, wait!" Blink yelped, turning on Mush. "Why me?!"

Mush shrugged guiltlessly. "You were closest."

Blink scowled. "You so owe me."

"I know, I know!" They began to hurry off, leaving Smurf and Trixie thoroughly amused behind them. "Look, I'll try to get down to the beach as soon as my audition's done, okay?"

David glanced at Smurf and Trixie.

"This is so never getting old," Smurf said, grinning.

*

David sat in the theater, his chin in his hand. He really didn't feel like auditioning. He'd tried to explain that to Mush, who hadn't understood at all; and he'd tried to explain that to Medda, who'd laughed and made him sneeze by dangling her feather boa in front of his nose, like he was a cat or something.

Worm plopped down on the bench next to him. "What part do you want?" she asked.

"Me?" David shrugged. He still found it odd that she would seek him out so often. "I don't know. I guess just something in the chorus or whatever."

"Really?" She looked surprised. "I thought everyone wanted to be the star."

"I don't. I still get nervous when everyone looks at me."

"Mmm." Worm nodded. "That's too bad. You're a pretty good actor. But I bet Mush gets Joseph. I mean, it's his last summer. And I guess he's pretty good."

"Yeah, probably," David agreed. He hoped so, actually. Mush deserved one of the best parts, and would definitely be better at carrying the show than anyone else.

"Okay, David," Medda declared, walking up to him briskly. "I want you to go over and sing with Stage; let's hear what you can do, hm?"

He tried to give her his best puppy dog eyes. "You know, I was thinking, with a show this size, you'll really need a pretty devoted stage manager, and—"

"Yes, you're right." She smiled widely. "Worm, my darling? How would you feel about handling some back stage tech things? I'm happy to put you in the show as well, of course, but you seem like the organized, managerial type."

"Um..." Worm glanced at David.

"Actually, I was thinking I—" he started.

"Hush, now." She ignored David. "What do you think, honey?"

"Um..." Worm repeated. "Well, I guess. Actually, that sounds pretty cool."

"Tres bien!" Medda declared. "David, go sing."

"But I—"

"David." Her voice dropped an octave and David stood almost against his will.

"Yes, ma'am."

So that was what Mush had meant. He'd almost forgotten how terrifying she was.

*

"So." Medda glanced around at the circle of counselors gathered in the theater. She had a notebook open in front of her, with each of the major parts listed, as well as long spaces for the chorus and minor characters. She also had a long list of all the campers who had auditioned, and several who hadn't but had agreed to participate, as long as she didn't pull them away from other activities for too long. "I think the big question is, who should play Joseph?"

"I'd think that's easy," Maverick answered. "I mean, Mush. He's been coming here for years, he's been in every show, he's a good actor, who else could we cast?"

"Actually, I was thinking Mush might make a splendid Jacob," Medda said cheerfully.

Maverick blinked. "Well, yeah, he'd be good at wherever we put him. But if he's not Joseph, then who...?"

"Well, I was thinking, perhaps our very own skinny, neurotic, young Jewish boy?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Who? ...Wait, David?" Maverick asked.

"Mmmhmmm." Medda folded her hands in her lap, serene. "I think he's a natural fit. Any thoughts?"

"I have one," Bumlets muttered. "That kid—and he's a nice kid, kind of, don't get me wrong—can not dance. And there's no way to choreograph a two act musical around a lead who doesn't dance."

"Now, Alec, dear," Medda said. "I'm sure you can do something with him."

"I really don't think—"

"Now, now. You underestimate yourself."

Bumlets scowled. "You also said I'm supposed to put together some kind of dance showcase. It would be stretching enough to get that going while I'm also doing the show, but honestly, with David as Joseph..."

"Well." Medda gestured dismissively. "Stage and I will absolutely help you with the choreography and helping the actors learn it, so you can have the free time to work with David—and on your showcase, of course. We'll leave Maverick to deal with a lot of the acting, and get Specs to assist him whenever he has time. It'll be fine." She glanced at Maverick and raised an eyebrow. "Won't it?"

"Why do I get the feeling you've already made up your mind, and it doesn't matter what we answer?"

"Now, dear, you're just paranoid. I'll write down David, then." Which she did, with remarkably florid handwriting.

*

David had to admit that he was reluctant to even look at the cast list, when it went up after dinner. He wasn't worried about what part he was going to get, so much as he just didn't care. He was resigned to be in the show, instead of behind the scenes, since Medda clearly wasn't going to give him a choice. It was just a question of what he'd be doing.

Everyone who had auditioned surged around him. He heard people commenting to each other about what he'd expected: don't worry about it if you got a bad part, you're very talented, the seniors always get the best roles. Every time he heard it, he felt a little worse. He didn't even want a good role.

"David!" Trixie's voice cut through the noise, silencing almost everyone. David had to admit, she had lung power. It made him even more glad she hadn't latched on to him.

"What?" he asked, still trying to press forward.

"You're Joseph!"

"I what?" It didn't even register.

"Joseph! You're Joseph!"

And then he understood what she meant. He was Joseph. The lead. The single most important character in the show.

Well, he hadn't expected that.

"Just read it!" someone yelled from the back, sounding impatient. Trixie seemed to think that was a good idea. She shoved people back out of her way and cleared her throat.

"O-kay, listen up!" she called, sounding almost freakishly like a younger Medda. David listened, curious as to who his friends would be. He wasn't at all surprised that Mush was Jacob, the second largest male part in the show—at least, not now that he knew Mush wouldn't be Joseph. That part had barely sunk in. The part of the Narrator, the female character who sang all of the story's narration—possibly a more major character than Joseph, though David wasn't really sure—was split between Mayfly and Mondie. David was pretty sure Trixie was slightly upset about that, but her voice perked right up when she read out that she was playing Potiphar's Wife and one of the lead chorus members. It wasn't a major role, but it was definitely a noticeable one. Most of the boys of Pentland and Ferguson had been stuck in as Joseph's eleven brothers, though only a couple had real solos. David was surprised that Blink was one; he'd be singing the cowboy anthem, One More Angel In Heaven. Ian would be singing the Benjamin Calypso. Just about everyone else was a brother; the rest of the senior girls were wives, doubling as some of the smaller roles. Everyone who had auditioned was in the show somewhere, even if just in the chorus, and the little kids had their own section as the Kids' Chorus that started both acts of the show. The only role that wasn't announced was that of the Pharaoh, which was listed as To Be Announced.

"Mouth, man," Ian said on his way by, punching his shoulder. "Congrats!"

But somehow, David didn't really feel like he deserved it. He looked around and saw Mush hurrying up towards the cabin. It was possible he was just running away from the girls, but with Trixie reading the cast list and Mondie squealing over her part, he wasn't in much danger of being harangued. David accepted a few more congratulations as he hurried after Mush, calling for him to wait up.

"Hey, Dave," Mush said, finally slowing down as they approached the cabin. "Way to go."

"Mush, I didn't..." David hesitated. "I wasn't trying out for Joseph, you know that, right? It totally should be you."

Mush shrugged. "It's cool."

"You don't really sound like it's cool."

"Dave, I'm a surprisingly heterosexual theater diva. I'm insanely jealous." He shrugged. "But I know that's also totally irrational, so whatever."

"No, I..." David sighed. "I don't even want the stupid part."

"Why the hell not?"

"What?"

"I said, why the hell not? Everyone wants the lead. So either you're really a very weird guy, or you're lying to make me feel better, which I don't need or want, thanks."

"You hadn't figured out that I'm a very weird guy by now? Really?" David tried to smile, but he was sure it looked forced. Still, Mush gave him a forced smile in return. "Look, the thing is, I'm really sick of everyone staring at me already. I didn't want to make it worse by going on stage, you know?"

"We don't stare," Mush said, but he sounded guilty. David raised an eyebrow. "Well, not anymore. Anyway, if you'd just tell everyone what happened, I'm sure we'd all get over it."

"Yeah, still not going to." David shrugged. "All I'm saying is that I really didn't want to be the center of attention, and you're a way better actor than I am, so...I really do, seriously, wish you'd gotten the part."

Mush glanced at him, then said, "Thanks, David. And, uh, look at it like this. There's a big difference between people whispering and staring at you because you're the center of some big, juicy gossip—which would go away if you'd just own up to it, already, by the way. But anyway. That's different than being on stage and having people applaud and stuff."

"I guess."

"Dude. I'm working hard not to be jealous, you have to try not to pout, and we'll be even, okay?" Mush said, sounding a little irritated.

David nodded quickly, feeling guilty. "Sure, right. Sorry."

"No big. I'll get over it. Besides, Jacob is still a pretty sweet role, right?"

"Yeah, definitely." David leaned back in his chair, glancing up at the ceiling. Finally he said, "You didn't hear it from me, but Jack has been out to Racetrack for a couple years now."

"Seriously? And he never told us?" Mush's eyes suddenly gleamed with the gossip. "You gonna tell me the rest of it?"

"Nope."

"Well..." Mush considered. "Fair enough. I have to go spread rumors now."

"Gossip," David accused, but he was laughing a little as he said it.

*

Rehearsals started the next morning, but Blink wasn't too concerned yet. He'd talked to Medda—he was glad to have a cool part in the show, but would be busy until after the race. It only meant losing one day, so she agreed to let him go for that day if he agreed to learn all the words to his solo. She even agreed to let Mush go for two precious hours in the morning, so they could practice together. Which was lucky for him—Trixie hadn't bothered to do so, which meant that she and Smurf wouldn't get to practice again before the race the next day. Smurf didn't seem too concerned, though, and she even went to go hang out in the theater and start learning her chorus member part.

Blink smirked as he made his way to the beach that afternoon, telling himself again that beating Smurf was going to be sweet. He hoped she'd at least put up a fight. He was putting all this energy into practice, and she was barely bothering, and if she turned out to not even be close, he'd be so disappointed.

When he got there, Irish was out with a group of the youngest kids, taking up almost all of the sailboats. Gunwale was in the camp's sole motor boat, a little thing that was meant for emergencies—it had the emergency equipment in it, anyway—but was actually mostly used so he could help out when there were a lot of people in the water. He could get back and forth from boat to boat much more quickly with the motor. And Dutchy was sitting in the sand, watching quietly.

"Hey, Dutch." Blink sat down. "What's up? Any boats left?"

"You could try canoeing for a change. Switch it up a little."

Blink gave him a look he hoped would translate was, 'What are you, crazy?' Dutchy sighed in response.

"Yep, there's one sailboat left. You have a partner?"

"Nah, Mush is doing theater stuff. I figure I'll just snag whoever's around."

"Cool. I should stay out here—give it a few minutes. If someone shows up, you guys take the thing. If not, I'll head out with you." He shrugged, hair falling out of his eyes.

Blink nodded and curled his toes, feeling the sand beneath him. He waited as patiently as he could at first, then less patiently. "Look, Dutchy—" he said after what he felt was a fair amount of time, though it was really only about five minutes.

"Hey, hey!"

He winced, recognizing the voice as someone else jogged onto the beach.

"Dutchy, did I miss getting a boat? Does anyone need a partner?"

Blink groaned as Smurf came up behind him. She kicked some sand into his lap and he was pretty sure it was on purpose.

"You're in luck," Dutchy answered. "One sailboat left, and one guy waiting for a partner."

Blink stood, and he and Smurf stared at each other. Finally, she made a face. "Please tell me this is just a joke."

"Nope." Dutchy shrugged. "Look, you two..." He sighed. "Why don't you just take out the boat and try and enjoy yourselves? Like, sailing for fun instead of out of anger? Try the light side of the Force for once."

Smurf scowled and Blink blinked.

"Ught, fine," she finally said, breaking down first. "I'll go with him, but only if he promises not to be a jerk."

"Me, be a jerk? You're the one who always starts everything!"

"Ha!" she snapped, even as they stomped off to prepare the boat. "You obviously don't know anything. You started everything!"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "You kicked sand on me!"

"Not today." She rolled her eyes. "Always. Forever. Since the beginning. You started it."

"Whatever. I did not." He rolled his eye, though he honestly wasn't entirely sure what she was talking about.

They continued in silence for a couple of minutes, getting the boat prepped and into the water. Blink was ready with the rudder and Smurf with the sail ropes; he dropped it into place when the water was deep enough and made himself comfortable. She let the sail fill and did the same.

It was weird, sitting there with her. He gave her a strange look and then stared over at the waves. She was staring up at the sky.

"I've never seen you be quiet for so long before," he commented eventually.

"Shut up and tack." They were getting far away from the sailing group now, down the lake, and Gunwale was waving at them.

"Whatever," he snapped back, and reached for the rudder. "Tacking," he added as he yanked it to the around. The boat changed directions easily and they both ducked as the boom swung around. It knocked her bucket cap off and she scowled, turning to fish it out of the water. He laughed as she rang it out and dropped it on the bottom of the boat. The sail filled out again, and they began to make decent progress back towards the group of Irish and the kids.

As they made speedy progress towards the younger sailors, Smurf finally said, "So, you and Mush..."

"I don't want to hear it!"

"All I'm saying is that you're a cute couple. Really, it explains a lot of things."

"Like what?!"

"Your random hostility to young women."

"Who, you? I'm hostile to you because you're a psychotic little person whose sole hobby is insulting me."

"It's not my sole hobby, it's just my favorite." She paused to consider. "By the way, you're stupid."

"Real original, shorty."

"Hey, the material still works as long as you remain dumb. So we're looking at another eon or so."

Blink scowled. "I'm not as dumb as you think."

"Quick, genius, what's the square root of ten?"

"It's..." He frowned. "How the hell should I know?"

"You don't know because you're dumb," she said cheerfully.

"Fine, then, what is it?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"You don't even know, do you?" he snapped, irritated. He ran his hands through his hair and glowered.

"Of course I know." She tossed her hair, frizzy from the summer spent outdoors. "I'll have you know, I'm on my school's math team."

"Oh, I get why you're so psycho," he said. "You're a geek. You resent how awesome I am."

"Excuse me?!"

"Only geeks are on math teams," he said. "So there you go."

"Right. That wasn't the part I didn't get. Allow me to clarify: you? Awesome? I don't think I can possibly laugh hard enough."

"I am quite, quite awesome!" he objected.

"No, an awesome guy would be able to count to ten without looking at his fingers."

"I can so!"

"Uh huh." She gave him a skeptical look, then glanced around. "We should get out of the way of the kids."

Blink saw the fleet of young sailors with Irish and agree. He shot Gunwale a wave in his motorboat, then took the rudder and steered around the group, out to deeper water. They didn't usually go so deep, kept to the relatively shallow section by the shore, but despite their bickering, Blink and Smurf were both experienced sailors, and it wasn't really dangerous anyway.

"Honest to god," Blink said, as they sped along, "I don't know why you even bother racing anymore. You haven't won in, like, two years. You're not going to suddenly win. And even if I hadn't known it before, I mean, man. You're a math geek. Ha!"

Smurf narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. "I'm a math geek, at least I'm not a jackass. And we'll see about the race tomorrow."

"Oh yeah. We totally will." Blink raised an eyebrow. "When you're eating my wake."

"Yeah, in your dreams!"

"Uh, let's see. I won the last race. I won the race before that. You know why?" he said. "It's because I'm just better."

"Oh, yeah, right." She turned away from him angrily, facing out towards the lake. She glanced over her shoulder for long enough to say, "But thanks for saying so—that'll make it even sweeter when I win. You have no idea how much it'll mean to me."

Blink opened his mouth to answer, but saw now they were in sight of the swimming docks. One of the counselors waved him away, and he nodded and reached for the rudder. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that," he said, pulling the rudder around, "when I w—"

Blink stopped speaking abruptly when he heard the noise. It was a full, dull thud, so solid he could almost feel it. He turned quickly and saw what happened. He hadn't warned he was tacking, the boat had shifted direction, the boom had swung around like it was supposed to, and when Smurf hadn't ducked under it, it had clocked her.

"Smurf!"

He struggled around the sail, which was now swinging more wildly, and looked for her. She was lying on her stomach on the flat edge of the boat. Her glasses had been knocked clean off, onto the bottom of the boat. And there was blood.

It took a second for him to process the sight. He dove for the rudder again, panicked, and tried to straighten the boat as he began to yell. Not sure if he was closer to the sailors or to the swimmers, he just gestured frantically and screamed: "Someone—someone help! I need help! Help me!"

His voice broke and he felt the acrid taste of adrenaline and fear in the back of his mouth. It felt peculiar, like he was watching himself move and hearing himself scream, but it didn't feel like he was doing any of it. Instead, it was like he was looking down on the sight of a small, turbulent sailboat, a panicked camper screaming and a young woman unconscious.

And then there was Gunwale in his motorboat, a radio in hand. He didn't even stop to ask questions, just yelled into the radio for Triage and an ambulance. Then he hesitated—moving Smurf was dangerous, but so was the sailboat. "Get the sail down, loose," he decided quickly. Blink hurried to do it, the actions mechanical. Gunwale grabbed a rope and secured the now-drifting sail-less boat to the motorboat and pulled him in, towards the sailing beach. By the time they were there, Triage had arrived and she and Dutchy were ready with a backboard. Under Triage's direction, they got Smurf moved onto it.

She came to as they were moving the board. "What...my head hurts." Her voice sounded dazed.

"Yes, dear," Triage said. "You got hit pretty hard."

"What happened?"

"Don't worry, we're just going to get you checked out at a hospital. You'll be fine."

"Oh." Smurf paused, then said, "My...My head hurts."

"It's going to be okay, honey," Triage said.

The ambulance arrived. Blink just stared as they loaded the backboard onto a stretcher into it. Triage went with them. And Blink was left standing in the sand.

"You okay?"

He was pretty sure Dutchy's two-word question was the first thing anyone had said to him. "I don't...we were just...I didn't mean for it to happen. I just, I, is she..."

Dutchy put a hand on his shoulder. "No one blames you. Accidents happen."

"Is she okay?"

"Triage said she's almost definitely got a concussion. They're going to go do a CT scan and make sure it's nothing worse than that. She'll probably be fine."

"She..." He didn't even know what to say. "We were fighting."

"What else is new?" Dutchy shrugged. "Look, Blink, like I said. Accidents happen."

"I didn't..."

"I know." Dutchy nudged him to begin walking. "How about we go up to the infirmary and you lie down, okay? I think you're in shock a little."

"I'm not...I was fine."

"Seeing blood is pretty scary. You sound really shaken, is all I'm saying. When you're back on your feet, we'll need to talk to you about the details...but like I said, again, no one blames you. Accidents happen."

"Okay."

But it didn't feel okay at all. Even if no one else blamed him, even if it was just an accident, he was the one who'd forgotten to signal he was tacking. He'd been too busy smirking and fighting with her...and now she was in the hospital.

It definitely wasn't okay.

[End Chapter Thirty-Six]
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Revelation