XXXIV. i hate it here

                                    

                                          
"I dreamed about it in the dark the night I felt like I might die, no mid-sized city hopes and small town fears, I'm there most of the year cause I hate it here."

Spencer.
"Camp!?" I groan in frustration, flopping back on my bed and growl into my pillow. 
"They found someone was using, and unless someone steps forward, they won't figure out who it was so they have to do the whole week again." Jameson explains.
I actually scream now, the sound being muffled by my soft silk pillows.
They've rescheduled the sports camp. After last time they found out people had been using drugs and drinking (all of us) they disqualified all schools because they couldn't figure out who it was in particular. Nobody confessed so as a punishment we're all having to do the thing again.
"Hey remember last camp? That's when we got together." Noah attempts to comfort, his hand stroking my back up and down then resting on my ass. I'm not sure the action was even intentional, but in less than a second my brother clocks it.
"Hand." Jameson warns firmly. "Sorry sir." Noah smirks, rubbing his hand up again. This time, still unintentionally, his hand slips up my shirt. His fingers gently dance across the bared flesh of my back. Of course, I wouldn't notice either if it weren't for the intense flush of heat to my cheeks.
"Yeah and I also got drunk out my mind and fucked up the ass!" By my teacher.
"But that won't happen again, because I'm your boyfriend now, and I'd never do that." Noah speaks calmly. I feel the bed sink beside me. His hand on my back snakes around to my hip so he can pull me in.
"Okay please refrain from undressing each other for a minute whilst I leave." Jameson emphasises with disgust, immediately racing out my bedroom to leave us alone.
Noah laughs gently, his chest vibrating against mine with the close proximity. 
"Hey.. about the other night.." He starts for what must be the hundredth time. "Noah, it wasn't a big deal. You got carried away in the heat of the moment." I shrug.
"Right." Noah agrees. 
"C'mere." I smirk, pulling him in by the collar f his school shirt. I press our lips together intensely. I feel his smirk growing against my lips, and another part of him growing against me too.
"Get a condom, i'll lock the door." I smirk, pushing up and heading for the door. I place my password in and return to my bedside.
He's currently in my beside table rummaging for a condom. A turns around, proudly holding a condom between his fingers.
I rip my shirt over my head, pushing him back onto the bed.
"You're looking so much better. I'm really proud of you baby." He grins, looking up at me with admiration.
I know it's a good thing. I swear I know it is. But it still makes something in my gut irk. It wasn't even that he said the wrong thing, because it was sweet and kind and the perfect way of saying i'm getting better. But my mind still perceives it as something bad. My therapist is pretty confident most of the recovery I need is mental.
"That's your way of saying I look fat. Thanks Noah." I tilt my head sarcastically. "No, no, no, no, no!" He's quick to say with disgrace.
"I'm kidding. Thank you." I smile. He takes his own shirt off, tossing it across the room.
"You're looking good yourself." I smirk, trailing my eyes up and down his toned abs. His bruised abs. I immediately frown and trace my hands over the almost faded bruises.