How Do You Feel, Seven? Essay
"Okay." I tore open a foil package with my teeth, digging out the wipe as I spat out the piece it left behind, "This is an alcohol wipe. It 's gonna sting really bad, but it 's going to clean your cuts."
"You didn 't tell me you lived with Smosh, either."
I took Seven 's hand carefully in my own, slowly puling his arm forward. "I figured it 'd be a fun surprise for when you dreaded to meet the parents."
"Are you kidding? I love meeting new people!"
"Ouch. This is the guy you 've been telling me about?" Ally opened her eyes just to roll them.
"He 's less like this when we 're not in the middle of something illegal." I pressed the wipe against a cut on Seven 's forearm and he flinched, hissing through his teeth.
"I 'm just stressing because of Seven! How can you NOT worry!?"I felt guilty. If I would have said something about George and the rest of the abusers earlier this would have never happened to Seven. I set the wipe down and peeled a slightly larger bandage before pressing it and carefully smoothing it over the cut. "George is probably out there right now looking for him!"
"Well, he 's not going to find us here!" Ally sat up, "And he 's certainly not going to go to the police if he 's looking for a kid he 's not even permitted by the law to HAVE. We 're safe here."
Gabe exhaled, a crease in his forehead forming before he went back to work. The boy looked frazzled. His wavy black hair was disheveled and sticking out all…