"Speaking of basic functions," Hugh muttered to himself. He had recognized at least one of the reasons why he was so uncomfortable.Hugh leaned over to Erin and whispered into her ear, "Erin, I have to go to the bathroom."Erin looked back, amused. "Well go on then! The WC is right over there," she pointed."But you have to go with me!" Oh, don't be silly. You're a grown up young lady now, I'm sure you can manage."Hugh blushed at being called a 'grown up young lady'. He stuck out his tongue at her, and Erin stuck out her tongue in reply. After a moment to gather his courage, Hugh got up on wobbly legs and headed to the ladies room.Hugh had only been in a ladies restroom once in his life, on a dare in middle school. Now, he had to consciously force himself to go against years of training and step into the wrong bathroom.It was like stepping into a strange foreign land.All of the fixtures were the same, except no urinals and there was a little foyer with a countertop and a bench. But it. As he said, he did not mean to hurt her, and she would rather have his empathy—as imperfect as it must necessarily be—than his indifference. Still, though, she could not quite manage to look at him while he did this. Moving quickly, not giving her mind the chance to rebel against her body, she rolled to her knees then leaned forward, curled herself into a ball, pressed her forehead against the rough wool blanket while her hands gripped fistfuls of fabric. Felix, having read her rage as well as its near-instant retreat, opted not to dawdle. His mother’d had a saying about bitter medicine, how it was best swallowed quickly, and though he could not remember its exact wording, he recalled the principle well enough. Then, when he’d coated his index finger in the salve and was just beginning to rim Jamie’s bruised rectum, he remembered his grandmother’s secret addendum to the adage—the dollop of honey she’d drop in his tonic, winking as she whispered that a touch a sugar couldn’t but.
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