Darkling

22| Chosen

Chapter 22: Chosen (Callum's POV)

I woke up the next morning feeling shittier than usual. So I decided to skip all my classes today. It's just a bad day, I guess. My head hurts, my body hurts. On the bright side, my lip doesn't. But that's because I healed it when I got back to my room. I'm so used to healing even the smallest paper cut that I forgot how bad cuts and injuries actually hurt. 

I'm not going to class, but I still have to get breakfast. So I kept my sweatpants on and put on a shirt. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and ruffled my hair so it didn't look so bad. But it just looked worse now. I shook my hair out and then grabbed my keys, heading downstairs. I rubbed my eyes while walking into the cafeteria, standing in line. 

"You... look like shit. What happened?" I looked, seeing Wyatt walking over to me. 

"It's just one of those bad, bad days. I'm staying in," I huffed. 

"Okay," he shrugged. 

"What's so wrong with that?" We both turned around as Daisy and Clara joined us, standing in line. 

"I can't explain anymore, ask the principal," Daisy groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration. 

"Why would the principal tell me why I shouldn't like Cal— ow!" Clara winced when Daisy dug her elbow into her ribs. "Oh. Oh shit, hi," she smiled, realizing that I was right in front of her. 

"Hi," I smirked, taking a tray, passing it to her. 

"Thanks," she mumbled. "You look, um... tired." 

"Like shit," Wyatt nodded. 

"Are you not coming for class today?" she asked. 

"You really couldn't be any more obvious," Daisy whispered to her. 

Clara rolled her eyes, jabbing her elbow into Daisy's ribs. 

"Uh, no, I'm not coming for class today. Any of them, actually," I answered her. 

Wyatt and Daisy stood in front of us and got moving with the line, we stayed behind. "Are you okay?" she asked. 

"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little sick." 

"Oh," she nodded in understanding. "Hey, your lip healed," she smiled, pointing at it. 

"Yeah," I chuckled. 

She put the back of her hand to my forehead. "You're a little warm," she frowned. 

"I'll take some medicine," I shrugged, grabbing a muffin and putting it on her tray. We all went and sat at the table. I poked my straw through the opening of my apple juice and sipped on it. 

"Do you want me to collect the work for you? For the classes today?" 

"You don't have to do that," I shook my head at Clara. 

"You did it for me, I'll bring you the work," she smiled. 

I looked up at the door and then choked on my juice at the sight I saw. She grabbed a student and asked something. Then that student turned and pointed at me. She rushed over, slamming her purse on the table. 

"Mom?" 

"God, are you okay? The principal called and told me what happened last night, let me see," she groaned, grabbing my face, assessing it. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine now, Jesus," I sighed, pulling her hands down. "What are you doing here?" I asked, ignoring all the whispers and chuckles. I can't help it if she still treats me like I'm a baby. I glanced at Clara who was watching with amusement, enjoying her hash browns.