Chapter 12

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"Dalton?" I manage to crack a single eye open a slit to see Pop standing beside my bed, a cup of coffee in his hands. "How're you feeling? Think you're ready to go back to school, or do you want to take a few more days?" he asks quietly which I'm immensely grateful for. There's nothing worse than loud sounds first thing in the morning. My parents let me take the remainder of last week off of school, so with it now being Monday, it's officially been about nine days since... the accident as I've been referring to it as.

"I'm up," I croak and slowly raise myself to a sitting position, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain in my abdomen at the move.

"Are you sure? Maybe you should take another week to rest..."

"I have to go back eventually, and I'm already behind enough as it is. As long as I don't have to participate in gym, I'll be fine." He nods and places the cup of coffee on my bedside table then presses a kiss to the top of my head before leaving the room.

With a sigh, I heave myself out of bed and stretch out my stiff muscles. The pain is still there, but significantly duller than it was last week, so I'm certain I can make it through a day of school. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I make my way to my bathroom and strip out of my pajamas and into the shower to wash away the remnants of sleep and hopefully wake up a bit more.

Being given a free pass to sleep in and be lazy for an entire week was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it gave me a chance to get started on my submission for the writing contest and I managed to make a good dent in it. A curse because now I have to reacquaint myself with the mundane routine of wake up, go to school, go home, do homework, go to bed, repeat. It's crazy how a single week was enough to fuck up my schedule, but here we are.

I finish getting ready and grab the lukewarm coffee from my nightstand, chugging it down as I slowly make my way out of my bedroom and down the hall. I set the now empty mug in the sink and turn to leave before a throat clearing catches my attention. I look over to see Dad sitting at the breakfast bar with his own cup of coffee in one hand, his phone in the other.

"Something wrong with the dishwasher?" he asks, and I roll my eyes as I move my cup from the sink to the mostly empty dishwasher.

"Better?"

"Much. Have a good day at school, and don't overdo it. If at any point you're not feeling well or experiencing pain, either call me and I'll come get you, or drive home. Carefully. Clear?"

"Crystal. Thanks, Dad." He gives me a small smile before returning his attention back to his phone as I walk out of the room.

The second I get out of my truck in the school parking lot, people's eyes lock on to me. The wide eyed stares follow me all the way into the building where whispers are added into the mix. I roll my eyes behind my aviators and slowly make my way to my locker since 'quick' isn't really in my vocabulary right now. I may be feeling better, but I'm nowhere near one hundred percent yet.

"Hi, Dalton." I turn to see Connor standing beside me, fidgeting with his fingers and gazing down at the floor.

"Hey. Did I miss anything exciting while I was away?" He shrugs then shakes his head while he shoves his hands in his front pockets, probably to stop the fidgeting I would presume. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he whispers and I frown when he glances up at me with glassy eyes.

"For what?"

"Not coming to see you, I... I wanted to, and I was going to, I just..." He trails off with a sigh and runs his hand through his hair. "I was scared, I guess. Watching you go down like that was... fuck, man, I'm so glad you're okay." His voice cracks slightly and he wraps his arms around me in a hug, and while I appreciate the gesture, I can't stop the grunt of pain that escapes me. "Shit, I'm sorry!" He quickly backs up with his hands in the air, eyes wide as he looks me over as if checking for an injury.

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