Uncertain

35-They know

Monday came quickly.

In other words, I slept through the end of the weekend. I didn't leave my room, I didn't even eat, and because every single person inside the Miller household was too busy with their own lives, well, no one even noticed. No one noticed when I literally skipped the whole Sunday. I watched a few movies, I stared at my ceiling, I even opened my math book (just to draw a flower on it), and then fell asleep again.

When I then finally woke up again, more rested than ever, it was Monday and a new week, once again.

I groaned.

I was not ready to go to school and face the looks I was going to get because of the stupid party on Friday. Mostly, I was not ready to face the looks I would get from my new friends because of the words I had said to them. Who was surprised when I lost a chance to have friends once again? Well, not me.

I reached my hand out towards my phone on my little nightstand, but when I tried to turn it on, I realized that I hadn't plugged it in last night and now the battery was dead.

I groaned again.

I pushed the comfort of my blanket off me, and sat up on the bed, staring around the view in my room. No, I did not know where my charger was, but I wouldn't be surprised if Aiden had "borrowed" it again. So, instead of looking at my phone, I looked at the clock on my wall and sighed. Yes, I had to get up or I was going to be late.

I threw a hoodie from my floor over me and stood up, or at least tried to do that completely forgetting that my left foot was still broken, and I couldn't put weight on it. I let out a pile of silent curse words. Not like the day could have a better start than that.

When I survived from that stinging pain on my leg, I grabbed my crutches from the floor and made my way to my bathroom. Practice makes perfect, I guess, because my stumbling wasn't anywhere near as bad as when I first got the crutches on my hands. Although, I still did surrender midway because it was taking a little too long, and just hopped on one leg to the bathroom.

I washed my face with cold, ice cold, water. I brushed my teeth, and put my hair, wig, into two French braids. 

I sighed.

Ugly as hell. My face was a mess, so was my hair. I had dark bags under my eyes even though I had slept better than ever, my face was spotty, and the freckles had some coup going on it. I didn't have the energy to put make up on to hide it, so I just let it be. I, however, did put some mascara on my lashes because that way I didn't look as bald as I did before.

Then I moved to my walk-in closet. I picked an oversized hoodie, and a pair of college pants, and sunk into the warmth. I grabbed my bag from the chair and threw my uncharged phone in there. My crutches I grabbed from my floor and moved downstairs, to the kitchen, where the scent of coffee came from.

Bryson was there.

He was holding his head, as he was trying to focus on the phone in his hands. He looked like he was going through a growing headache, he looked horrible; like he had gone to hell and come back. His eyebags were dark, his hair was a pile of twigs, his white shirt wasn't white anymore, and he had a little cut under his eye.

"You look like shit." I commented from the doorway, making him cringe.

"Don't say shit."

I rolled my eyes and walked next to the counter to pour myself the rest of the coffee, not really knowing if someone was planning on taking it.

I was officially addicted. Not long ago I hated coffee more than anything, now I needed at least one cup of that every day. If I was being totally honest, I still wasn't sure whether I liked the taste that much, but the caffeine was another story. I just simply needed it, or I was going to be moody whole day.