PUCKED Up (26 page)

I move her out of the way by her shoulders. In my hurry to escape, I almost step on my phone. I scoop it up and shove it in my pocket, heading back to the cabins. She calls after me, but I wave over my shoulder and start jogging. It’s uncomfortable. I have to throw my leg out to the side so I don’t cause unnecessary ball friction.

My cabin is empty, thankfully, so I drop my shorts and inspect the damage. I have to wrap my balls around my dick to get a good look. The bite’s red and angry. My left nut is now significantly larger than the right one. Usually it hangs lower, but it’s way swollen.

I remember one time at hockey camp, way back when I was a teenager, a spider bit me and it swelled. That was my foot, though. It was uncomfortable, but not a real problem. This isn’t the same. I need an antihistamine at the very least. And a serious dose of painkillers. This bastard is going to be itchy as hell, and if my ball keeps swelling, I’m going to be sporting one hell of a moose knuckle. I can’t be having that when I’m dealing with a bunch of pre-teens.

I pull my shorts up and check the first aid kit. The medicated wipes and bandages aren’t going to cut it. My only other option is to visit the clinic. Because of the nature of the camp, there’s always a nurse on call. I almost trip over the girl from the dock on my way out the door.

“
Everything okay? They’re starting the campfire soon. You’re coming, right?”

“
I’ll be there. I need to make a quick stop first.”

My shorts chafe against my swollen ball, forcing me to hobble. The girl bounces along beside me. She’s got great energy when it comes to working with the kids, but right now I find it irritating, mostly because I’m in pain.

“
Oh wow. You’re limping. Did it get you on the leg?” She bends at the waist like she’s trying to see. Her head is almost at crotch level.

I want to get there as quickly as possible, but the faster I move, the more it hurts. “I didn’t get bit on the leg.”

“
Where’d it bite you?”

“
On the balls.”

“
Oh. Oh, God.” That stops the questions.

We run into Randy on the way to the medical clinic. He’s with that girl from the showers. He frowns when he sees me walking like a felon who caught a bullet in the ass. He glances between me and the girl. It’s the first time I’ve noticed she’s blond and looks a little like Sunny. That might explain my subconscious attempt to get away from her.

“
What happened to you?” Randy asks.

Sunny’s doppelganger bounces excitedly. “A spider bit Buck on his balls!”

“
How did that happen?” Randy’s suspicion is offensive. I managed to go without pussy for three months. I’m not going to fold after five days because the chick beside me looks like my sort-of girlfriend, who’s currently seven hours away. Without cell phone reception. And who’s all buddy-buddy with her ex-boyfriend of four years.

“
I’m assuming it crawled into my shorts, took one look at my balls, thought,
hey man, those look tasty
, and chomped down. But I’m not a spider-whisperer, so I have no idea how spiders make those kinds of decisions. That’s just a guess.”

Randy has the audacity to check with Doppelganger to verify whether I’m indeed telling the truth.

She lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “I heard a scream and went to check it out. I was worried some of the kids might have snuck down to the water without permission. I found Miller on the dock. He squished the spider. It was hard to tell what kind it was, but it was probably a dock spider because he was on the dock.”

This whole conversation might be okay if it didn’t feel as if my balls were about to explode like the sun. “I need to hit the bathroom.”

“
I still think you should let me check it out. You look uncomfortable.” She makes a face. “And you’re sweaty.”

Randy pats me on the back and steers me in the direction of the staff bathroom. “Come on, let’s go.”

I’d make a douchey comment about how only girls go to the bathroom together, but I’m worried about how tight the front of my shorts are.

I’m relieved to find the bathroom empty. I close the door, and Randy stands in front of it. There’s no lock on the inside, so he’s my barricade while I’m checking the damage. “You need to tell me how bad it is. I can’t see the bite.”

Randy crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll man the door, and you can check it out in that mirror.”

“
Fine. But don’t let anyone in here.” I hobble across the room. The mirror is so old it has a cloudy haze to it. It’s also high up on the wall. At 6’2” I’m tall, but the mirror only reaches my waist. I drop my shorts and jump up. All I catch a glimpse of is the head of my dick—not my swollen balls. “I can’t see anything.”

“
Try taking the mirror off the wall.”

“
It’s fastened with screws.” I turn around, prepared to show my irritation with a hand gesture.

All the color drains from Randy’s face as he stares at my junk. “Holy fucking shit, dude. You need to see a medic.”

I glance down. I don’t need a mirror to see the problem. In the time it’s taken me to walk from the cabin to the bathrooms, my left nut has swollen to twice its normal size. I gingerly cup my balls in my palm and move my dick out of the way for a better look. My perspective isn’t great, though. It’s enough to see that they’re swollen, and it feels like I’ve given them a bath in lava. “I need an antihistamine, some Tylenol, and maybe a bag a of frozen peas.”

“
I think you might need more than that.” He moves closer and leans in.

I’m assaulted by a flash of light. Momentarily blinded, I raise my hands, and my shorts drop all the way to the floor.

“
You can’t post that anywhere!” I grab for his phone, but he holds it out of reach, clicking buttons with his thumb.

“
It’s just your junk, dude.” He shows me a close-up pic of my branch and berries. “There’s this site where they can identify medical stuff through pictures. Maybe they can figure out what kind of spider bit you.”

“
I don’t want pictures of my dick on the Internet!”

This is the exact moment the door flies open, slamming into Randy from behind. He stumbles forward and almost face-plants into my giant balls. I stop him with a palm on his forehead. A senior counselor—I recognize him from mess hall duty—stands inside the door. He starts to apologize, but it turns into a croak when he sees me fisting my dick and Randy on his knees in front of me with his phone in his hand.

Because this day wasn’t bad enough already, shit had to get even stupider.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

NOTHING IS EASY. EVER.

“
Uh—” Bathroom Interloper’s eyes dart back and forth between us.

“
A spider bit me on the balls.” I put both hands in the air before he gets the wrong idea. Which he clearly already has, so it’s useless.

“
I’m gonna—” He thumbs over his shoulder and starts to back out of the bathroom.

Randy grabs him by the shirt and yanks him inside, slapping his free palm against the door to prevent anyone from entering or exiting. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“
I-I don’t—I’m not. I like girls.”

“
Randy, chill out and let him go.” Bathroom Interloper looks like he’s about to pee his pants. Which is understandable considering the situation he walked in on and Randy’s misplaced aggression. “This isn’t how it looks. A spider seriously bit me on the balls.”

I’ve got enough crap to contend with where Sunny is concerned. I don’t need more rumors circulating.

His eyes drop down and then flip right back up. His horror confirms what I already know. I need to get this taken care of. Sooner rather than later.

To drive the point home, Bathroom Interloper says, “That doesn’t look normal.”

“
No shit.”

“
You should probably see someone about that.”

“
That’s the plan.”

He nods like it makes good sense, because it does.

I carefully zip my shorts to avoid any additional unnecessary pain. Randy and our new friend walk two steps in front of me, acting as a shield so I don’t traumatize any of the kids or junior counselors milling around. The girls run up as we’re about to go into the mess hall. Sunny’s Doppelganger gets in front of us and throws open the door. “Buck has a spider bite!” She pauses for greater effect. “On his balls!”

It wouldn’t be so much of an issue if it was just me and Randy and Bathroom Interloper, plus the two girls. But it’s not. A group of kids are off in the corner, some playing cards and others on their devices, since this is the best place to get reception. Several junior counselors sit at a table, preparing snacks for the campfire. We’re having banana boats. They’re my favorite. I hope my balls don’t prevent me from being able to go. I really want one. Or six.

Everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at my crotch. I can understand why; my shorts are tight across the front, giving everyone an awesome view of the outline of my now oversized balls. I use my hands to cover myself, but it’s too late. They’ve all seen the monstrosity taking up way too much real estate in my shorts.

“
You should probably see the nurse,” one of the girls at the table says. Her eyes are still below my waist.

“
I need an antihistamine. You got a bag of frozen vegetables in the kitchen I can borrow?”

Everyone continues to stare. Randy coughs from beside me.

“
Fine. How about a bag of ice instead? That way I won’t have to return it after I put it on my balls.” I glance at the kids in the corner. They’re all gaping, too. “I mean my testicles.”

That gets a few giggles. It’s nice that this is entertaining for someone.

Bathroom Interloper puts in his two cents. “I still think someone should check that out.”

“
I offered!” Doppelganger’s hand shoots up in the air. The girl beside her forces her hand back down to her side.

“
I’ve
checked it out.” I point to my chest. “It’s just a little swollen.”

Randy coughs again.

“
Okay. It’s a lot swollen. But I’ve had way worse, so this is no big deal.” The burning in my balls is now accompanied by a horrendous itch. It’s unreal. I have the strangest urge to dip them in ice-cold water. It’s about the last thing any guy usually wants to do, and a sure sign things are way worse than I thought.

“
Let’s go find Debra,” Doppelganger suggests. “She’ll take care of you.”

I stop arguing. If I don’t accept medical attention, I’ll be setting a bad example. Plus, no one’s balls should ever be this big. My growing entourage makes their way through the mess hall to the area where the medical center is. It’s like a mini-triage unit crossed with a physiotherapy center. I’m familiar with a lot of the equipment. When we get there and no one moves to leave, I clap my hands together. “Okay, everyone. Thanks for getting me here. I appreciate all your help, but I don’t think I need a cheering squad for the rest of this.”

“
Um . . .” Doppelganger raises her hand like we’re in class and I’m the teacher. “Can I get a quick picture with you?”

“
Group photo!” Randy says, a stupid, jerky grin on his face. “Everyone in!”

He mashes everyone together, Bathroom Interloper and Doppelganger on either side of me. My smile is more grimace than anything else. I’d flip the bird, but this will undoubtedly make it to the Internet. I hope he doesn’t get my actual package in the picture.

Finally, once the photo shoot is over, they all leave.

In the far corner of the clinic, a kid is hooked up to a bunch of machines, an IV bag running to his arm. As soon as he sees me, he ducks his head like he’s embarrassed to be here, or he witnessed that display of idiocy.

I recognize him from earlier in the week. He hasn’t signed up for any of the competitive hockey business, but he’s been to every lesson. He’s an amazing player, but he’s quiet, always leaving as soon as the lesson is over before I can talk to him. He’s missed the campfire a couple of times.

“
Hey, man. I’m Miller. I’ve seen you playing this week. How’s it going?”

He lifts his head, his eyes widening in surprise. “Uh, I’m Michael.” He looks at the IV drip. “I guess it’s okay.”

“
You getting gassed up so you can play with me tomorrow?” I nod to all the shit he’s hooked up to.

He smiles, but it’s sad and old, way older than it should be for a kid. “Something like that.”

Nurse Debbie appears in her white running shoes and scrubs. I’d like to say she’s in her mid-fifties and looks like my aunt. She doesn’t. She’s more
Debbie Does Dallas
than Nurse Ratched
.
She’s probably in her early to mid-thirties—I’ve slept with older—with dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She’s soft around the edges, but it works for her. She’s too attractive to be a nurse. I’m not sure how I feel about her having to look at my junk. But the itch has become as pervasive as the burning sensation. I’m getting close to not caring that there are people around to witness me scratching my berries.