Chapter 19: Worry

I don't think we go quite as far as he originally was planning, after that. Which is nice, honestly, because the forest seems to get thicker the further we go. He eventually finds a spot that he likes and drops the bag, then carefully helps me sit down. I can't help but think about how I might be sitting on animal droppings, or bugs, or some sort of fungi (so gross. So, so gross).

He digs through the bag and finds the sleeping bags, tossing mine into my lap and laying his own out. Immediately, my mind goes to the bugs that could crawl into it while we're sleeping. They could crawl into our ears, too, or noses, or could just infest our clothing-

I'm regretting saying that I don't want to go back because of my fall, now. No- no, that's not accurate. I'm regretting agreeing to this at all. A couple hundred dollars, safe driving, and not trying to convince me to skip classes is not payment enough for this. What if an ant crawls into my head and starts marching all over my eardrums, or gets into my cochlea? I'd suffer constant, extremely loud noises for the rest of my life, and I'd either go deaf, insane or have to have ear surgery in which they'd probably have to remove my entire ear, and dig into my head to get out all of the internal organs too-

"Todd, are you sure you don't want to go back? You look like you're in pain."

"Just thinking," I mumble back.

"You don't owe me anything, you know. We don't have to stay. I can do this," he gestures to the forest, "anytime."

"It's okay," I almost whisper, though I really have no idea why- I suppose it's because my hands aren't really hurting, nor are they the reason why I want to leave, and I hate lying. I'm a horrible liar, and I'm sure he'd notice- he seems to be able to read my mind sometimes. I wish that part was mutual, I'd love to know what he's thinking. Know what the heck he wants from me, especially now that I know I'm the only person he's ever brought to his house more than once. And why he keeps possibly flirting with me- and if it's flirting at all. And-

"Todd," he says quietly, and he's kneeling in front of me now, gently taking one of my hands and pouring a bottle of water over it, washing the dust out before he starts applying some kind of ointment to it. "Are you okay? Not just because of your hands. Are you actually okay?"

I avoid his eyes. "I'm-"

"I'll do all the things I promised you I'd do if you came, even if you want to leave right now."

I close my eyes for a second. Gosh, I want to leave right now. Blame it on my 'injuries'. But instead, I shake my head, deepening the pit of horror and dread in my stomach.

"Todd," he whispers imploringly, and I almost cave.

"No. We can stay." I still don't quite meet his eyes, and I'm 100% sure that he notices. He doesn't say anything else, though, just lets out a little sigh, finishes bandaging my hand, and starts on the other one.

After that, I try to stop freaking out (which means I stop thinking about bugs and fungi and animal droppings and- oh my gosh, what about animals? What kind of animals might live in this forest?- no, stop thinking about that, Todd). Instead, I focus on anything else. Such as, the burning of my palms. And how I'm going to explain my bandaged hands to my parents (oh don't worry, Mom and Dad, I just fell down a cliff in the middle of the forest. No biggie).

I shake my head, trying to get rid of any freaking-out thoughts. I'm fine. This is fine. Nothing bad is going to happen, everything is going to be completely okay.

Patrick is still watching me pretty carefully. I can't tell how much of that is out of concern, and how much is out of whatever weird thing he has for examining people's faces. He eventually gets out a notebook and pen and sits down somewhere near me where I can see him perfectly, even in the dimming light, but I can't see what he's writing.

As soon as he has it open to a blank page (or what I assume is a blank page) he immediately starts writing, super fast. Like he's afraid that if he doesn't get it all down the very second he thinks it, it'll be lost forever.

I watch him scribble furiously for a couple minutes, as he goes through pages and pages at the speed of light. I wonder if anything he writes will actually be legible later- though he doesn't seem to be too concerned about that at the moment. His eyes aren't even completely focused on the page: sometimes his gaze will stay up at the top of the page when his pen is zipping across the bottom, and sometimes I'm not sure if he's seeing what he's writing at all. Watching him write is kind of engrossing (fascinating, to use his word), and after a little while (I have no sense of time, watching him write. It seems like the number of pages he's gone through should have taken hours, but it definitely hasn't been that long, and at the speed he's writing at, it could have been like, ten minutes) I realize I haven't been freaking out. It's strangely calming, to watch him write.

Well, until I realize that he's taking notes for the state of nature project, and remember that I'm supposed to be doing the same. But he's still urgently scribbling, and I don't want to interrupt for fear of making him lose his train of thought or forget something before he can write it down. So I watch for a pause, hoping that he stops at some point so I can intervene.

He doesn't pause at all. He's been continuously writing for such a long time now, it seems impossible. Even my note-taking in class isn't this sustained. I wonder if he's even writing, or if he's just scribbling in the notebook for the sake of it (he does a lot of odd things. It wouldn't surprise me).

I continue to watch as he does the thing where his pen moves across lines to the bottom of the page while his gaze stays fixed at the top, before he seems to snap out of it and look back at his rapidly scrawling pen. Then, a moment later, his eyes wander off the page and notebook entirely, sweeping across the forest floor before flicking up to me. When our eyes meet, his pen immediately stops and he smirks at me a little.

"You must be bored."

"Should I be taking notes?"

"Not a chance."

"It wouldn't hurt my hands, if that's what you're thinking."

"Yes, it would. Here, we'll have a discussion instead, and I'll write everything down."

I sigh. "Fine."

He smirks again as he leans over and pulls a second notebook out of the bag. "So, how do you feel, knowing that you could do anything right now and there would be no consequences from the government or your parents?"

"Neither of those statements are true."

"Imagine."

"Fine. Um... I guess... I don't know. I still wouldn't want to hurt anyone. I think..." I'd be more scared that other people would hurt me, in the hypothetical situation that there were no rules or regulations. But how would I say that without sounding like a wimp?

"You think what?"

"I think that... I'd be more... worried... that there would be nothing protecting... anything."

He smirks as he writes that down (without even bothering to look at the notebook. I don't know how he can do that, I'd go nuts if my writing wasn't evenly spaced and all on the lines of the paper). "Okay. Worried about lack of protection."

"And, I mean, if we're assuming society doesn't exist, I think I'd be worried about food and stuff. Like, what if you can't find anything to eat? What about in winter?" I honestly just wouldn't be able to slaughter an innocent animal with my own hands. And going vegetarian in any state of nature sounds like a path to some form of malnutrition or other dietary/health concern.

"Alright. How about freedom? How much freedom do you feel like you have?"

"I mean, if there's no government or anything, then I'd be governed by my needs instead, right? What I need to do to survive and-" I stop myself before I say reproduce, because firstly that's a biology concept and second I do not want that conversation, "...and not die."

He smirks a little more. "So less or more free?"

"I mean..."

I'm cut off by a honk. "Patrick! Todd! We're here!"

Thoughts on the chapter? What did you think of Todd freaking out while simultaneously insisting on staying? The millionaire's concern? How about their conversation for the state of nature project? And who do you think just arrived?

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