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Sage gently nodded.
I showed her my hands, then pointed toward the locker rooms.
We walked side by side.
“Henry, wait,” she said. “That’s the men’s…”
“I’m the only one here, Sage. We’re fine.”
“Okay,” she said.
Her voice frail. So scared.
My mind raced around one theory…
“You’re lucky it’s now and not when a bunch of smelly dudes are in here,” I said. “You can’t imagine what it’s like. It’s clean now. Pete is actually a clean freak, believe it or not.”
I knew Sage wasn’t listening to me.
I also knew she needed to hear my voice to feel safe.
I took her to the sink and grabbed some brown sheets of paper towel and wet them.
“We have to see where the blood is coming from,” I said to Sage. “Just in case, okay?”
“In case?” Sage whispered.
“You never know, right? If something is cut enough that it needs a stitch…”
Panic swept across her face. “No. I can’t do that. Ever. I can’t explain that…”
She grabbed for my shirt.
Her fingers gently digging into my sides.
“Okay, that’s fine,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay, Sage. Still have to wipe the blood away. You’re too pretty to be covered in blood.”
“You can do it, Henry.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Yes. Please.”
I lifted the damp paper towel and gently touched the right corner of her lip. As the blood seeped into the paper towel, I wiped up and saw a cut at the corner of her mouth. I also saw her bottom lip was a little swollen too.
I refrained from saying a word.
After folding the paper towel over itself, I repeated the same motion again.
Three more times after that, I paused to see what would happen.
My fear was if blood pooled quickly, meaning the cut went deeper than we thought, it would end up requiring medical attention.
Lucky for Sage, the cut wasn’t deep at all.
“Okay,” I said. “I think you’re in the clear. Sort of.”
She released her hold on me and moved to the side so she could lean forward and stare at herself in the mirror.
