Cam and Victoria
The relief when Victoria stopped screaming was intense. In this instance, Cam couldn’t make her shut the fuck up, so he had to baby her into it, and luckily the distraction of him trying to blot her injury helped with that. “Let me get it wiped up and we’ll see,” he said, his own head throbbing from the knock against the window. He didn’t feel any blood coming from himself, so that was good. He wiped as well as he could, turned the shirt and folded it to a clean patch and pressed it firmly against her skin to stanch any remaining bleeding; he knew that head wounds tended to bleed a lot even when they weren’t all that bad. Once he judged it would be okay to move the cloth, he did. “It probably hurts still, but it doesn’t look that bad,” he said.
Victoria’s eyes moved frantically around her surroundings as Cam wiped at the blood on her head. Everyone was in a state of panic, with a few kids actually knocked out, but no one seeming to be seriously injured. No one was dead, as far as she could tell. And there wasn’t, like, a fire or anything. Now that she was starting to calm down, she realized she felt fine, other than the bump on her head and the cut. That was probably what hurt the worst. “Hopefully it won’t scar,” she frowned, put out at being hurt at all. “What the fuck happened?”
Cam wadded the bloody shirt up and stuffed it back into his sport bag and resisted rolling his eyes when Victoria started complaining about scarring. She was so freaking high maintenance. Of course, in his opinion most if not all of the cheerleaders were. Bracing himself against the seat in front of him, he stood up, looking out the window with slightly dilated eyes. “Something hit us,” he said. He knew that in the digital age in which they lived, ten or fifteen people who’d seen the wreck had already called 911 on their cell phones. “Guess he ran off the road after that.”
“Probably some drunk,” Victoria growled, annoyed at the whole encounter. This was totally ruining her night. Her head hurt, she had blood on her uniform, and with her luck she was probably deformed now. Reaching up, she put her fingers on the cut, her face sour when a touch of blood still stained them. “Dammit. So you think we just wait for someone to show up?” she asked, looking up at Cam. They were going to be there for hours now and she’d been hoping for at least a little fun with him or Todd before the end of the night. Now that wasn’t likely to happen.
“Don’t poke at it,” Cam told her, keeping impatience out of his voice by the hardest. Victoria took careful handling, and he didn’t want her to get all pissy on him. This night was crazy enough. He smiled at her question, even if the tilt of his lips had a sardonic twist to it. “I guess so, unless you wanna get out and start walking down the road.” He had no idea exactly where they were, but obviously they weren’t going to do that. He frowned slightly. “I think I hear sirens.”
Victoria made a little noise of annoyance and rolled her eyes, but did leave the cut alone, hoping that the blood would stop. She didn’t like the thought of blood dripping onto her uniform, unless it got her special attention. She shot him a look. “No, I’m not walking,” she said, then peered around the bus, trying to see anything in the darkness. “You think anyone died?” she whispered, morbidly interested. What if the bus driver was thrown through the front window? What if someone broke their neck? She’d never seen a dead body before. It was a little exciting, so long as it wasn’t her.