When Our Worlds Collide (Our Worlds #1)(15)
I just keep remembering the look on his face that night. He seemed vulnerable under the brightness of the moonlight. Maybe I am looking too deep, but I know what I saw when he looked at me. It wasn’t the same Graham who acts as if he is doing me a favor for even breathing the same air as me. He surprised me. That’s all.
I grab my phone clicking a few buttons to find a text message from Violet.
Hope ur feelin better. I still cant believe u were run over. Ill pick u up at 7:30 for school. luv u.
I send her a quick message back telling her that I am fine and that I appreciate her picking me up for school. Placing the phone back down on my nightstand my mind wanders back to him just as it has every other moment since I woke up in the hospital.
Why isn’t he even trying to see me after what happened? How could he not? He’s not a complete monster, so what is stopping him? He nearly took my life and in return I saved his. That surely warrants a visit in the hospital or at the very least a quick text to say “Hey, know I almost killed you and all. Just wanted to see how you were feeling afterwards. Keep your chin up”.
Maybe he doesn’t have my number. That’s the only rational excuse I keep feeding myself. I suppose he can’t just walk up to just anyone and ask for it. I’m Little Miss Unsocial. The only person that has it is Violet and maybe a few people that I have study group with for my AP classes.
The rest of the weekend is spent lying in bed watching movies and reading books. The parental units waited on me hand and foot even when I refused to allow them. Sunday night my brother, Will, called from California to see how I was holding up. I haven’t talked to him in weeks. It was nice to have a chance to catch up. He questioned me about everything and anything I can remember from that night. I tried to keep my story straight from what I have already told everyone else. This could become difficult if everyone keeps pestering me about every little minor detail.
Monday comes too quickly, more for my parents than me. I think they would keep me hostage if they had any say in it. I am more than ready to be back to school to be around actual people even if they ignore me. Anything would be better than the mind numbing characters in the rom-coms I’ve been subjecting myself to. Real life isn’t like the movies, unfortunately.
Violet shows up right on time, 7:30 AM-on the dot, just as I expect. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and grab my crutches that are leaning against the couch. Even after walking around with them over the weekend I still don’t fully have the hang of them. I stumble every time I have to move around. It is inevitable. I’m going to embarrass myself at some point today.
It takes me as long as I thought it would to get out of the house. I am going to have to take in account how much time it will take me to get around school until I am feeling better. I’m seconds away to cutting the cast off and burning the crutches. I would be happier rolling around in one of those motorized scooters that you see obese people cruising around on.
“Come on slow poke. You’re walking like your legs broken or something. You know some people get run over by cars and move faster than your ass is right now,” Violet shouts out the passenger side window of the car that her parents bought her for her sixteenth birthday. It was an impressive red mustang. It fits her personality perfectly, bold and sleek.
Violet’s parents are filthy rich. Her mom is a doctor and her father is involved in politics, whatever that means. Secretly I think he is involved with some illegal activity. The man is scary. They adore her and pretty much hand anything she wants over on a silver platter.
“Ha-Ha. You are so very funny. Can you at least swing the door open for me?” I point one of my crutches at her unopened door. She pushes it open for me and I throw my crutches in the back before sliding into the seat beside her.
Violet turns out of my driveway and makes the short drive to school. We stay quiet until she breaks the silence. “Just a heads up, there’s a bit of a rumor that your leg nearly got chopped off in the accident,” she explains with a boisterous laugh.
A laugh bubbles up from my stomach at what she just said. “Seriously, doesn’t anyone have anything better to do than spread rumors about what happened?” I ask digging in my purse for my phone. I stare at the screen. Still nothing. I’ve officially crossed over into pathetic.
“What’s that look on your face? You look like someone just told you that your favorite author died.” I just shook my head as if nothing is bothering me. She doesn’t push the subject. “Wait till you hear all the shit people have been saying though, Ken.” She laughs filling the car with easiness finding the situation amusing.
“This should be an interesting first day back.” I try to act as if it all doesn’t bother me. I hate being the center of attention. That’s why it took me as long as it did to get onto the stage in front of the entire school. The thought of having everyone’s attention nearly throws me into a full-fledged panic attack. Maybe I should have taken a few extra days off like my mom and dad suggested this morning.
We park in the same spot Violet has always parked in. Everyone knew it was her space and respected the unwritten law. No one wanted to be yelled at by a fiery redhead first thing in the morning. Thankfully it is in the front row. I grab my crutches and backpack to make my way into the school. It isn’t a huge school, but it is large enough for me to get tired from walking from the front entrance to my locker.
It may be my imagination or the pain killers that the doctors have me taking every four hours as if my life depends on it, but it feels like everyone is staring holes in the back of my head. I make the dreadful journey to my locker avoiding any eye contact with anyone in particular. I balance as best as I can on one leg to put the combination in to gain access to my school work. It takes me a few tries, but I finally get the hang of it and pop the lock off. I quickly grab my books for my first class from the shelf in my locker. My attempt to balance everything in one arm while trying to grab the crutches that were still leaning against the bank of lockers is an epic failure.