Meanwhile downstairs, Dita found herself in a difficult situation with the wounded Terry. She slowly walked towards him, gazing at the mounds of towels Mr. O'Hara had laid on his open wounds. She was only too lucky at this point that the boy was unconscious. Dita really had no idea what she would say if he happened to wake up at this point. A part of her still felt the need to pound the hell out of the boy for somehow finding out their little secret. It was pretty obvious to her that he had been snooping around, seeing as he just happened to end up at the O'Hara's pub that very night. It was exactly anywhere close to where he was staying.
Yet, another side... and this was stranger still... wanted to cradle the injured boy in her arms. She had never seen anybody in this kind of shape, let alone a friend. It was disturbing and disheartening, not being able to do anything but sit and watch him bleed there. There must have been something in that sentiment that triggered a few memories of the boy to resurface in her mind. Like a movie reel they played, one after another...
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"Just give it up, Dita..." Heather said, lyinig on her bed. "You're never gonna get those tickets. These things are totally rigged..."
Dita sighed and laid her cell phone down on the bed. "...Yeah, I guess you're right. Who thought up the idea of being the eleventh caller anyway... You can't even get through to the line it's so busy!" Dita sighed and flopped on the bed next to her equally depressed friend. "...I didn't want to go to that stupid concert anyway..."
Suddenly, a door slam from across the street could be heard all the way in Heather's bedroom. An exited "YES!" echoed through the streets, and a few seconds later, there was a knock at the door. The girls both shot puzzled looks at each other as they began to get up off the bed. Before either could say a word, the radio announcer's voice came over the speaker. "And that's it, the lines are closed! Congratulations to our eleventh caller, Terry Cramer! Here's to hoping you enjoy those tickets!"
The girls' eyes went wide. The two hopped off the bed and rushed down the stairs, nearly stumbling over each other in the process. Dita was the first to reach the door, yanking it so quickly she forgot about the deadbolt. Quickly correcting her error, she twisted the deadbolt, and pulled the door open.
"...What do you want for those tickets, Terry?!" Dita blurted out without so much as a hello.
"...How did you guys find out I had the tickets?" Terry mulled it over in his head a few seconds before remembering the whole thing was broadcast on the radio station. "...Oooh... Right." Terry looked at the girls, and kicked his foot on the pavement a bit. "Actually, I don't really like that band very much. I was wondering if you guys wanted the tickets, maybe?"
Heather eyed the boy. "What's the catch?"
Terry smirked. "Why Heather, I'm insulted. I only ask that you..." Both girls were hanging on his every word as he paused mid-sentence. "Naw, I'm just yankin' ya. There's no catch."
Dita breathed a sigh of relief... Then slugged the boy hard in the arm.
"YEOWCH. What was that for?" Terry yelped, more from shock than anything.
"For teasing us, ya little jerk! Geez..." Dita folded her arms and gave the boy a cross look... Then leaned over and hugged him.
Terry blushed a bit. "What was that for?"
Dita released the boy. "I dunno. Ask me later." She smirked as she closed the door.
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Now the memories were coming faster, just little bits and pieces of events...
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"If I EVER see you mess with a girl again, you'll have more than a black eye to worry about."
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"Hey you guys, the band's having a concert down at the park theater. You wanna check it out?"
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"Happy birthday, Dita! I hope you like it..."
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"...Oh geez, Terry, I think it's broken..."
"I am NOT doing that on a trampoline EVER again. Aaaagh!"
"MOM! TERRY'S ARM'S BENDING THE WRONG WAY!"
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Dita snapped back to the situation at hand when a slight moaning sound came from the bundle of bloody rags next to her. "Oh no... He's awake..." She thought to herself. She was reluctant to make any movement at all, hoping that Terry would slip back into an unconscious state without ever realizing she had been there. However, as she saw the arm with the hand that wasn't burnt reaching up to try and remove one of the rags, she felt obligated to try and do something. Dita bent down next to Terry, taking his good hand in hers.
"Shhh... It's gonna be okay, Terry. You're gonna be fine..." Even then, she was choking back the tears as she said what she only half-heartedly believed. "I'm... I'm here, okay? So just go back to sleep now..." As the boy's struggling lessened more and more, the girl leaned in towards him. "That's right... hang in there, Terry..." His struggling nearly stopped, she bent and kissed his cheek in an area that was actually still intact. "You're gonna be okay..."
Terry drifted back into unconsciousness. It was at this moment that Dita finally allowed herself to let go of the tears she had been holding back. Unfortunately for her, it was also just about the time Mr. O'Hara would arrive back downstairs, ready to carry the boy to the car. The girl shot a glance back, noticing the man approaching. She quickly let go of Terry's hand, and using her sleeve, swiftly wiped the tears from her eyes. She fumbled with her words as she barely managed to get out,
"He's unconscious again..."
She attempted to hide her face from the man as he bent down next to her, ready to scoop the boy up. Noticing her embarrassment, the wise old man decided it was best not to make not of the situation at this point. "You did a fine job, lass. I thank ye." O'Hara proceeded to gingerly lift Terry from his position, being careful not to let any of the towels he had placed fall off. "Alright lass, I thin it's best we be gettin' him home..."
Dita nodded, and followed Mr. O'Hara as he made his was deftly up the staircase, and out to the car.