Twenty Two: Who Knew Puffy Eyes Could Be a Turn On?

I feel as if time has frozen. The silence that follows Tom’s unforeseen confession seems to last forever, each second stretching out into an eternity. His smoldering eyes bore into mine, brandishing an emotion that I can’t identify. I’m frozen to the spot, too; my feet may as well have been glued to the floor for all the movement I can manage.

            Tom is in love with me?!

            If I was in less of a state, I might have started hyperventilating. The phrase seems alien in my head, and yet something inside of me is somehow reducing the shock factor of the statement.

            It’s becoming clear now.

            It’s as if someone has just switched on the wipers and cleared the shield of mist and rain from my eyes. Because now I realize: all the time that I spent chasing after Blake, being so preoccupied with plans that would get me noticed, and embarking on the rollercoaster ride that is being a camp counselor... Tom was always there.

            Always making jokes, constantly lifting my mood when anything went wrong.

            And that cute smile...

            How could I have missed it?

            “Are you going to say anything, or just leave me standing here like an idiot?”

            Tom’s voice is tinged with humor, the half-smile on his face clearly showing this, but the seriousness still shines through. I know that however light hearted he may seem, a rejection on my behalf would have a crushing effect.

            “I...”

            My throat is dry, rendering me completely unable to speak. What is wrong with me? The tears have stopped forming in my eyes but now I’m all choked up as a result of my previous crying. Oh God, pull yourself together, Bailey. You’ve only got to manage one sentence. That’s all.

            However, my lack of an answer is taken the wrong way by Tom. His face falls just as the smile is erased from his features.

            “No, I...”

            Oh my God, what is wrong with me? All I’ve got to do is give some sort of positive response. Why am I finding this so hard? Thoughts of Blake have been permanently banished from my mind, now replaced by the realization of how perfect Tom is. And here he is standing in front of me, confessing love for me in a way that could not be more perfect (apart from the fact that I’m tear stained and looking like an absolute state, but I won’t mention that).

            And I’m standing here like an idiot, unable to respond.

            So I do the only thing that springs to mind.

            Ignoring the state of my hair and the puffiness of my eyes, I throw my arms around Tom, pulling him in closer to me so that the distance between us is closed rapidly.

            And then I kiss him.

            I’m not going to be utterly cliché and soppy and say that there was fireworks and sparks were sent through my skin and I felt like I was flying without wings (okay, so maybe I added that last one on myself). All I’ll say in regards to the kiss is that it was... nice.

            You know, if you define ‘nice’ as fireworks, sparks and a great deal of flying without wings.

            In that short space of time that our lips are locked, the realization only becomes stronger. I’m kind of ashamed that I spent all of that time lusting after Blake and his Abercrombie style abs, when the real guy for me was standing right next to him. How could I have overlooked Tom for such a long period of time? For the three weeks I have spent here, Tom has been one of my best friends (aside from Savannah, in the moments she has been able to stop thinking about Danny).

            I’ve definitely learned that just because someone’s completely and utterly gorgeous on the outside, doesn’t mean they’re not arrogant, insensitive and selfish on the inside.

            I don’t know about you, but I can think of one person who fits that description.

            When Tom and I pull apart, he smiles at me with such sincerity that I cannot help but smile too, despite my red nose and tear stained cheeks.

            “Are you still going to leave?” he breathes.

            My choked up throat has finally redeemed itself, allowing me to answer. “I can’t,” I say. “Not now I know what this feels like.”

            This is our cue to replay the kiss scene again, only more delicately, as if savoring every single nanosecond in which our lips spend pressed against each other’s.

            Of course this is what I want. How could I ever have thought anything different? Blake may have the rock hard abs, but what’s the use of toned stomach muscles when your personality’s as shallow as a kid’s pool? I smile back at Tom, who has now taken up the role of the most perfect guy in my life.

            “Come back to the camp,” he says, slipping his hand into mine.

            I take a deep breath, clasping my (probably sweaty, but who cares?) fingers around his in an affectionate grasp. “Okay,” I respond.

            Because I know that however much hatred and pain I feel towards Blake Hudson, and however much I want to punch Cindy DeLuna in the face for being such a smug bitch... I can get over it. There’s no longer a place for jealousy inside my mind.

            Why would there be? The most amazing guy I have ever met in my life is holding my hand.  He’s adorable. He’s funny. He doesn’t suffer a drastic personality change in front of his friends. He actually feels something for me.

            And do you know what? He’s way better than Blake Hudson.

***

            Tom’s hand never leaves mine the whole way back to the campsite. It’s a miracle we actually managed to navigate our way back in the darkness of two in the morning, especially as our tents are pitched pretty much in the middle of the forest, surrounded by an endless mass of dense trees.

            We must have looked a right state, really. Both of us in our PJs, my hair frizzing uncontrollably around my head and my nose as red as Rudolph’s from crying.

            Although, in all honesty, I couldn’t care less.

            When we arrive back, it’s surprising to notice that all is quiet, just as I left it. In my sudden burst of emotion, I kind of expected the whole world to break into chaos along with me, but the rest of the kids are still sleeping soundly under the cover of their tents. The only sound that greets my ears is the wind whistling around us, biting at the skin on my arms with its bitterness, a reminder that I should probably don a sweater next time I’m running through a forest at two in the morning.

            “So,” Tom says, turning to me as we stand at the edge of the empty campsite.

            “So...” I respond.

            He is about to say something, but is cut off abruptly by a shrill screech slicing through the silent atmosphere with the precision and sharpness of a scalpel.

            Which is then followed by desperate scrambling as Cindy attempts to escape hers and Savannah’s tent.

            As my head snaps in her direction, a laugh threatens to leave my lips almost instantly. I clasp my free hand over it quickly, stifling the noise as Cindy emerges.

            Her reason for the screaming? Well, it may have something to do with the fact that she’s now covered from head to toe in sticky green slime.

            I think it brings out her hair color.

            No more than five seconds after Cindy’s hasty retreat from her tent, a second scream fills the air. This time, its owner is almost definitely male (or a female with an unnaturally deep voice). Suddenly, Blake emerges from his own, also dripping in a substance suspiciously similar to Cindy’s.

            “What the hell?” he shouts, furiously wiping the slimy material from his eyes.

            The sight of the both of them in such states causes too much laughter for me to suppress. Apparently, it has the same effect on Tom, as he also chooses this moment to crack up. Both of the slimy figures’ heads snap in our direction immediately, shooting dirty looks of varying strengths.

            I just thank God that looks can’t kill, otherwise I’m pretty sure Tom and I would cease to exist.

            “Did you do this?” Cindy demands, her question directed at me.

            To be honest, I’m kind of flattered. Does she really think that I’m capable of organizing a prank as disgustingly brilliant as this? I wish I was, but I’m pretty sure that Jake is deserving of that credit.

            “Nope,” I say, “but I wish I’d thought of it.”

            “Ugh!”

            Cindy huffs, folding her arms in what is meant to be a defensive manner, but which only increases the stickiness of her chest. By this point, the rapid surge in volume has awoken most of the sleeping kids and counselors in nearby tents.

            Who, as they come out into the dark campsite, burst into laughter when they catch sight of Cindy and Blake’s new appearances.

            “Bailey, you’re such a bitch!” Cindy screams.

            Which is a bit of a false accusation, seeing as I had nothing to do with the situation. (Well, I kind of did, seeing as I predicted this kind of event and purposely persuaded her to switch with me, but that’s behind us now...)

            “You planned this whole thing!”

            Not really. I just knowingly pushed you into the face of the prank. It’s hardly the same thing, is it?

            “I hate you!”

            Well, that’s good, because I never really liked you either, Cindy.

            Being the responsible and mature human being that I am, these witty comebacks do not leave the seclusion of my mind. Instead, I catch Tom’s eye, and we smirk knowingly at each other.

            As Cindy huffs some more and then storms off in the other direction, Blake follows her. Moments later, the thought occurs to me. Sure, Cindy’s lot of slime was meant for me, but why would Jake’s crew want to prank Blake? I thought they looked up to him – he was the only one who could actually control them.

            As if on cue, Jake emerges from a mysterious hidden location. The mischievous smirk on his face is more than enough reassurance that he was the mastermind behind this whole calamity. He strolls back into camp as if nothing is out of the ordinary, and I immediately approach him.

            “Do I even need to ask whether you’re behind this?” I say.

            “What do you think?”

            “I think… nice work.” I smile for the best part of a second, before my arms cross over my chest in a defensive stance. “But I know it was meant for me, which means I’m still pissed.”

            Jake shakes his head. “It wasn’t meant for you.”

            I’m all set to launch into a lecture, but his answer stops me. “What?”

            “It wasn’t meant for you.”

            What is he talking about? If Jake had announced he had been elected as president, I think I would’ve been less shocked. He’s been pranking me ever since I arrived in this place, so why would this instance be any different? Apparently, though, it is.

            “Why not?”

            “Because,” Jake responds coolly, “you’re not all bad. You didn’t deserve it this time. Plus, those two were being annoying as hell together, so I thought they needed taking care of.”

            Aw… I know it’s not exactly the most heartfelt statement of all time, but coming from Jake, it might as well be. I have the sudden urge to pick him up and squeeze him, whilst thanking him profusely for dumping my least favorite person in slime. However, I have a feeling this show of affection may earn me my very own slime bath, so I refrain from doing so.

            “Well, thanks…” I say. “It’s probably really bad counselor practice to be praising you for dumping a bucket of slime over someone’s head, but…”

            “They asked for it.”

            “Yup.”

            Jake smiles. “You’re not so bad, Bailey.”

            “Thanks.” This is probably the point where I say something meaningful back. “Well, you’re not so bad, either.”

            After a couple of seconds of awkward silence and a quick ending to our conversation, I sidle back to Tom, who seems to have been watching mine and Jake’s entire encounter. Then, I notice that Savannah is standing next to him, sporting her favorite PJs and bunny slippers.

            “Were you two actually having a conversation?” she asks incredulously.

            “Yeah.” A light shrug represents my bemusement at the situation. After all, it was unexpected. Who’d have thought that someone so small and boisterous could show some sign of compassion (by covering my worst enemy in slime)? “Jake’s not as bad as you think.”

            “You’ve had a change of heart,” Savannah says, and then she notices that Tom has taken my hand in his in an intertwining grasp. Her mouth opens in confusion. “Wha-?”

            “Uh, yeah...”

            “We’ll explain later,” Tom says quickly, when he notices Savannah’s surprised expression. “Let’s just say Blake’s out of the picture...”

            “Oh, right...” My best friend is obviously startled by the sudden revelation, and I don’t blame her. I mean, for the past three weeks I have been completely hung up on Blake, and now suddenly I’m onto said guy’s brother? Kind of hard to get your head round, but when am I ever simple to understand? “Would now be a good time to tell you that Danny and I are dating?”

            I go to squeal, but she clamps a hand over my mouth almost immediately, preventing any noise from escaping. Which is probably a wise action on her part, considering there are fifty other people around us, and it’s also the middle of the night. “Sorry!” I whisper, when she removes it. “I knew it! I knew you guys were going to get together! Aw, that’s so cute!”

            Savannah laughs awkwardly, probably creeped out by my reaction. “Well, uh... I’m going back to bed.”

            I nod back at her, and after Tom and I say our goodnights, she heads back to her tent and leaves us alone. Turning back to Tom, I smile nervously at him. “Think she’s surprised?”

            “Just a tad.”

            “Maybe we should’ve waited till tomorrow to tell her.”

            Tom shrugs. “We can’t go back now. Anyway, it would’ve been a surprise no matter what time we told her. So maybe it’s better that she knows.”

            I nod begrudgingly, but then my smile returns. “I think camp’s going to be a lot better now. I mean... us, Savannah and Danny... plus the fact that Jake’s no longer so irritating.”

            Tom takes both my hands in his, smiling downward at me as I turn to face him. His azure eyes are just as deep as Blake’s, yet when I look at him, the overwhelming feeling that I am somehow drowning in them, which I experienced with Blake, is not present. Instead, I feel more like I’m just gently treading water. “So you don’t think he’ll be stealing your underwear again any time soon?”

            I grimace at the memory. Just as that was beginning to erase itself from my mind… bam, it’s there again, vivid as ever. Great. “I hope not.”

            And I really do hope not. I think enough people have seen the contents of my underwear drawer already. I don’t think there’s any need to add to that number.

            “Is it wrong to say I’m disappointed?”

            “Yes,” I retort, doing my best to hold back the blush that wants to infiltrate my pale cheeks. A gust of wind scratches at my arms and I suddenly realize that we’re still standing in the middle of a forest, at two in the morning, in practically Arctic temperatures. “You know, we should probably be going back to bed.”

            Tom smiles. “Yeah. As long as you won’t try to make an escape in the middle of the night. I don’t think I could cope with another three weeks without you here for emotional support.”

            “Hey, you’re not stuck with the toughest cabin in camp,” I say, faking a pout. “I’m the one who needs the emotional support.”

            “Oh, yeah.” A mischievous smile creeps onto Tom’s face, just as a glimmer of amusement flickers across his deep blue eyes. “Will this do?” he asks, and before I can even begin to comprehend what’s happening, his lips are molded against mine, moving slowly and effortlessly in a way that makes my heart flutter.

            I’ve completely forgotten that twenty minutes ago, I was utterly heartbroken (or so I thought), sobbing my eyes out, throwing my belongings in a case so that I could make my getaway (although how I was expecting to find a bus back to Bay City at two a.m., I’m not entirely sure). None of that matters anymore, because I know that everything I ever thought I felt for Blake was actually... not real.

            But this... this is most definitely real.

            I’m sure of it.

--------------------------

There is only the epilogue left :( I love this story too much for it to end. As of yet, there's no sequel, but I'm not saying a definite no because I love writing about Bailey too much!

BUT... it's half term now, so I can actually get some writing done! I'm starting a new story which I will be uploading very very soon, so make sure you check that out when it's up! (If you fan me, you'll get e-mail updates - hint hint :D)

So all you Team Toms finally got what you wanted ;) Remember to VOTE and drop me a comment to let me know if you liked it! Don't be a silent reader, make me happy :D <3