Audrey whistled. “That’s quite a gash you got there...”
Tawny had taken Dylan to Audrey, who they had fortunately stumbled upon as she took her (impromptu) smoke break.
Aubrey then whisked them to a small broom closet away from the prying eyes of the other Dylantantes. Especially since at this point, Dylan had removed his shirt to act as a makeshift bandage to quell the bleeding.
After she turned on the hanging light from the ceiling, she had instructed Dylan to sit on the table as she inspected his wound.
“You’re right,” Aubrey said. “It looks worse than it actually is. Nothing a few stitches couldn’t solve.”
“Can you fix it?” Tawny asked.
Aubrey side-eyed Tawny. “Do I look like Florence Nightingale? The best I can offer you is disinfectant. I could show you where the first-aid kit is located.”
“Fine, show us,” Tawny said impatiently. “I’ve got another idea.”
Once the first-aid kit was located, the group returned to the broom closet. This time, Tawny called Ally via video chat on her phone.
“Hey! Oh...” Ally’s expression went from joy, to confusion, to concern, as she took in the dimly lit scene from within the closet. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”
“Ally, I need your help,” Tawny said. “You remember when you stitched that scarf for my 13th birthday?”
“Yeah...?” Ally replied, not sure where the conversation was going.
“Well, I need you to guide me on how to do a simple stitch. Okay, show her,” instructed Tawny, pointing the phone in Dylan’s direction so he could show off the cut on his forehead.
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“Tawny...I...don’t think I can do that,” Ally said, sounding noticeably shaken.
“Are you sure?” quipped Audrey offscreen. “It’d be just like stitching together a sweater. He’s just as soft and precious."
“Watch it...” Dylan snapped as Audrey broke out into laughter. “Great. A dead end.”
“Now wait a minute,” Ally said, piquing the attention of the group. “When I came to visit you over the holidays, I remember Madeleine mentioning that she’s taken first-aid courses before.”
“Who the hell is Madeleine?” said Dylan.
“Tawny’s friend at Ivoree Gates,” answered Ally. “The one she bunks with. I’m certain she’d be able to fix it.”
“Maddie?” Tawny’s blood ran cold. She hadn’t spoken to her since she became a Dylan-tante.
“Good idea, so we’ll do that,” Dylan said, wresting the phone from Tawny’s hands. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Ally replied. “Although why couldn’t you just go to the hosp--CLICK," the phone went silent as Dylan ended the call abruptly.
“Hey!” Tawny said angrily. “That’s my best friend you just hung up on like that!”
“She’ll live,” Dylan said. “Let’s go to the dorms. I’ll drive.”
“I’ll drive us,” said Audrey. “You’re liable to pass out from loss of blood and drive us off a cliff.”
“I’ll let Tawny drive then,” Dylan countered.
“I can’t drive a stick shift,” Tawny said. “I barely have my learner’s permit. I think the instructor just felt bad for me...”
“You’re running out of options,” said Audrey. “So what’s it gonna be?”
“No way I’d let you behind the wheel,” said Dylan. “Or did you think I forgot why you’re even here in the first place, Miss Fast and Furious?”
“Watch it, pipsqueak...” Audrey said, sizing up the antagonizing Dylan. “I could leave now and just let you bleed out. There’d be one less arrogant, pompous, spoiled White man to grow up and ruin the world...”
“Guys, hey, calm down,” Tawny got between the two of them and pushed them apart. “Dylan, I promise to convince Maddie to help you, but for that to happen, I need us all to work together as a team. Can you promise to do that for just a little while?”
Audrey and Dylan glared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Audrey spoke. “Truce?”
“Truce,” Dylan said, extending his hand.
“Not a chance,” said Audrey. “Okay, let’s get his baby in his little red Corvette and get him the medical attention he needs.
“It’s a Porsche, actually,” said Dylan as the three of them exited the closet.