Blue || Cedar Hills Academy #1

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TW: Seizure, mention of seizures, epilepsy, gore, and mental hospital mention

Emerie

"Em, honey? You awake?" My mom's soft knock sounded through the thin oak door leading to my bedroom. My bedroom is pretty simplistic-- a few bookshelves, a pile of dirty clothes I won't touch for another weak, and a desk against the back wall. 

My increasing need for privacy causes me to stay silent. She sighs and sides a slip of paper underneath my door. The paper says, in big bold letters, "SOME KID NAMED THEO IS HERE. PRETTY SURE HE'S HUNGOVER."

My eyebrows sky rocket even as I walk over to the door and re-read the paper a few times. My phone (left on my bed without a second thought) starts to ring and I quickly walk back over to it. I pick it up, eyebrows furrowing as I read the contact name. "Bestest hockey player." I read aloud, laughing. I answer the call. 

"Hi, worst hockey player." I greet Maverick. 

He grunts. "I'm in your front yard."

"Why, exactly?" I lay on my bed. 

"I need help studying." 

I laugh aloud. "Alright. Have my mom let you in. My bedroom is the door with the red marks." 

"Red marks? Blood stains?" He guesses. I can't help but smile even wider. 

"Maybe yours if you don't hurry up. I don't have very much patience, y'know." My tone is teasing but I'm not exactly lying. I've never really been a patient person. 

"On my way, ma'am." 

Is Theo Maverick flirting with me? He's definitely hung over. 

The door swings open about a minute letter and Maverick's huge body shimmies through the small doorway. 

"What do you need help studying?" I ask, grabbing a few of my textbooks. 

"History." 

"My favorite subject." I smile enthusiastically, flipping open my textbook. 

His lip curls in disgust. "Social studies is your favorite subject?" 

"Mhm..." I grab a notebook and a pen, quickly flipping open the textbook. "Alright, what do you need to study? Geography, WWII, French/Indian War, what?"

He just stares. Just stares blankly. 

"Okay..." I say, drawing out the "o". "We'll just start with the beginning."

___

It's been four hours of continuous studying and I can already tell that Maverick is getting tired. "We'll take a break for the night." I decide, closing my notebook and textbook. Hanging out with him was refreshing-- he made me genuinely smile and I wasn't constantly thinking about my "situation". 

That's what my mother called me being sexually assaulted. A situation. A situation is when you get pregnant and can't afford an abortion. Not when you constantly get sexually assaulted and the only people who know about it won't do anything and/or refuse to believe it actually happened. 

"Hey Emerie?" Maverick asks tiredly.

My stomach flutters. 

Over a voice. 

I need a reality check. 

"Hm?" I ask, putting a smile on my face to distract myself from my thoughts and seem as innocent as possible. 

"Can I stay the night?"

The silence is deafening. I want to say yes, I really do, but if my dad found out he'd kill me. 

"Okay. Sure. You just have to leave early tomorrow morning so my parents don't kill me." I release a long breathe I didn't realize I was holding. 

"Fine with me. You mind if I shower? I don't want to stink up your room or anything." 

My face heats. "Uhm, of course I don't mind. There are extra towels underneath the sink." 

What is wrong with me what is wrong with me what is 

Maverick smiles. "Thanks." He walks past me and goes into my bathroom, closing the door behind him. I groan internally. 

I spend the next twenty minutes reading The Fine Print by Lauren Asher, completely invested, when all of a sudden Maverick walks out of my bathroom in nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His ash blonde hair is wet and falls over his forehead while a few drops of water disappear underneath the towel.

Lucky water.

Why the fuck am I jealous over water?

"Do you have any extra clothes I could borrow? You probably don't but..." He asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

My face brightens. "I do. You left an extra pair over here for some reason." 

A light switch flicks on in his head and he smirks. The right side of his mouth tilts up slightly and his eyes sparkle. 

Curse you, hormones. 

"Alright. I'm just going to change in the bathroom." He disappears back into the bathroom and I let out a very loud sigh of relief once he's fully clothed again. He was wearing a black compression shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide his hand-crafted body and a pair of shorts. Nike. 

Fuck me.

Maverick arches a brow at my sigh. 

"Sorry. I'm just.. tired." I find myself practically tripping over my words. "Oh, and uhm, by the way, you can sleep in my bed."

Theo Maverick is going to sleep in my bed. 

"With you? I don't want to give your parents another reason to kill me. I'll just take the floor." He says sheepishly, grabbing a few blankets and making a makeshift mattress. 

"O-oh, right. Goodnight." I reach over and turn off the light before making sure it's dark enough that he won't see me undress. I change out of shorts only, leaving me in nothing but a slightly large shirt and panties. 

___

I was shaking. A few blinks of black and white flashed through my mind, then everything went dark again. I could hear voices, but I couldn't hear what words the people were actually forming. 

"Hello?" My voice slurs and I attempt to open my eyes. The first thing I see is a light that flickers just slightly hanging above me. 

I attempt to sit up, but my chest feels heavy. 

"Hello?" I speak louder and the voices become quiet before turning louder. 

"Oh my gosh, Em, honey. Relax. Lay down." My mom talks hurriedly as my vision starts to become normal or at least as normal as possible without my glasses. 

I lay down as she tells me to. "What happened?" A familiar smell floods threw my nose, flooding my senses: hospital. I'm in a hospital. 

"Mom?" I whisper, slowly becoming horrified. The last time I was in a hospital it was for a SAEK. (Sexual assault test.)

"You had a seizure honey." Her hands squeezes mine. 

"A seizure?" I repeat. The words taste like poison on my tongue. 

"Mrs. Valencia? We have news." A doctor, middle-aged and actually good looking appears to the left side of the hospital bed I was positioned on. 

"Ms. Emerie has epilepsy."

What the fuck? And where's Maverick?