"Okay, you can put me down now," I ask as Nate carried me down a narrow hallway.
He smirks.
"How's your shoulder?"
"Still hurts, but you don't have to carry me," I say.
"Who says so?" Nate replies.
"I do! Now, let me down." I demand, tapping on Nate's chest.
"Nope, we need help and I'm not letting you straddle with your shoulder," Nate says.
"Ow! How hard was my fall? And how are you not hurt?" I ask, gripping my shoulder.
"Well, we fell ten feet from an air vent and your shoulder broke your fall, but in reality, your fall broke your shoulder. And I'm a football player, remember? I'm built to take blows," Nate says.
"Oh. So what's going on with my shoulder? I feel like the bone is scraping my skin." I was in utter pain.
"Yeah, you fractured your collarbone. Or at least I think. We might have to get that checked out." Nate suggests.
"Why do you care? You hate me, remember?" I say.
"You're not wrong, I'm not a big fan of you ever since you blatantly accused me of spiking the drinks at the party," Nate responds.
"That's because you did! Don't deny it like you didn't." I reply.
"Alright, you can use your legs, get off me!" Nate says, biting his lips in frustration.
He then releases me and drops me flat on my butt.
"Ow!" I say, still planted on the ground.
"Walk it off. Let's go, we need to find where we are." Nate says while leaving without me.
"Nate, wait! Are you just gonna leave me here? It's dark." I say, running after Nate, holding my shoulder.
"Well, you shouldn't have said what you said and now look at you." Nate continued to walk away from me, leaving me to straddle behind.
"Don't be like that! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" I nag to Nate.
"No, I don't, so just drop it! Look, we made it to the laundry room. Maybe we can ask for help." Nate says, pointing to a door that read, 'Laundry Room'.
"Okay, lead the way," I say, still holding my arm.
We walk into the busy laundry room, where several maids and janitors resided. Everywhere I looked, there were laundry bins and baskets with bloody sheets and towels. How many people died in this hospital?!? Nate had walked up to one of the staff members and asked for help.
"Um, excuse me, we're looking for the main floor. What floor are we on?" Nate asks a lady who was folding sheets.
"Well, you are on the thirteenth floor, the laundry room. You need to take the elevator back down to the first floor and once you are there, make a sharp right and the receptionist desk should be on your left." The woman's accent rang from Indian descent. She directed us to the elevator, but Nate and I looked at each other in dismay.
"Um, ma'am, I don't think we should take the elevator. It's kinda broken." I say awkwardly.
"Well, there's a stairwell through the back hallway, but I have to warn you, it's the long way back to the first floor. Be prepared to walk down for a while." The woman warned us.
"Okay, thanks for the help. What is your name?" I ask.
"Praya. Praya Kelly." The woman says.
"Well, thank you Miss Praya for all the help," I reply.
YOU ARE READING
#CoachNerd || Alex Aiono & William Singe Fanfic: Book 1
FanfictionBlake August is a hard-working girl. She has the most important job in her life: a waitress for her family restaurant. She's a complete nerd, but man, can she work her way around a football! Blake is about to add another job to her list: being the b...
