Chapter Twenty-Eight

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Jen

Will carried both of our bags on his back as I slowly crutched down the hallway beside him. My arms were burning with carrying my body weight. My good leg was sorer than my bad. 

Will asked, "Are you coming to the game tonight?"

"No," I muttered, "Georgia's tutoring me."

Will nodded slightly, "Ah, ok... but isn't that on Tuesdays?"

I glared up at him.

"And before school."

"Will," I sighed, "Maybe I just really don't want to fucking go."

I looked away with a scowl.

"Stop," he said, changing his mood quickly. 

I froze at it. It was cold, dark and commanding. It was the... complete opposite of Will. 

I pivoted on my good leg to turn and look at him. His eyes shone with... anger? I shivered at the dark look.

"You've been in a pissed as fuck mood for the last three days," he hissed, "And, yes, I suppose you have a right to be considering you were hit by a car and thrown off your cheerleading team," I winced, "But you don't get to fucking act like I'm nothing less than your boyfriend. You've made me feel like crap because you feel like crap. Can you please just... come to the game tonight and cheer up a little?"

I opened my mouth to object but he raised a hand, cutting me off.

"You haven't touched your guitar in a week. Why?"

I didn't know why... 

"We're going to ditch English and go to Mi-Mr Wellington's room. You're going to play something and you're going to play it proudly."

I didn't even have time to object because he snatched my crutches, catching me bridal style with my crutches dangling from me. I squeaked, "Will! I can't dit-"

"You're not going to be able to pay attention to it anyway," he sealed the plan.

I sighed and sulked back into his chest, "Fine."

***

Mr Wellington was surprised to say in the least. He jumped slightly in his seat at our interruption. Three kids were up the front performing something. 

I bit my lip when I realised we'd walked in on the middle of an assessment. 

Mr Wellington asked, "What's wrong?"

Will put me down gently, handing me my crutches. I grabbed them back, still glaring up at him. 

Will turned to Mr Wellington, "We have a problem. Little Jenna here hasn't touched her guitar in a week."

I scowled, "Don't call me that. And why should either of you two care?"

Mr Wellington sighed, "As the music teacher, I care because I want people to embrace music. Also, you're the best female guitarist I've met under the age of twenty."

I crossed my arms. Just shout it to the class, why don't you, Mr Wellington?! 

Will walked past me, placing our bags on the floor, "Sorry for the interruption, by the way. But this is important."

I frowned as he hurried into the storeroom and walked out with an acoustic guitar and some drumsticks. He gestured for me to move up onto the stage. I sighed and carefully manoeuvred up the steps. 

He held out the guitar. I sighed. I didn't want to play in front of the class but I also craved for the feeling of the strings beneath my fingertips, again. 

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