Leah Archer was just 12 years old when she hit her head on a rock and fell into a coma, one that doctors weren't sure she'd ever come back from. But when she wakes up four years later, she faces the struggle of recovery and fights to regain any hint...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
EVER SINCE MALIA mentioned the county fair, I couldn't have been more excited. I knew that Bree had added it to my 'catch-up list', but I didn't think we would get to go this soon.
The rest of the school week goes by quickly. Classes start up, and I'm forced to spend a few hours after school every day at my desk completing homework. None of it's particularly hard, and the sense of normalcy it brings me is almost relaxing. Between physical therapy and occupational therapy, I strive for that sense of normal.
My parents gave us the okay to go to the fair with everyone else on a few minor conditions. First, they wanted me to take the wheelchair, which wasn't a huge deal. Even though I liked using the crutches because it gave me more independence, I knew we'd probably be walking a lot more than I was used to. Also, they wanted us to stay together the whole time, no splitting up, and to be back eleven–midnight, if we all decided to stop for food afterward.
The hours before we left for the fair were spent at Bree's house as she dug through the mountain of clothes in her room. I was already dressed in a black floral romper. We couldn't do the cliché best-friends-sharing-clothes thing because I was a few sizes smaller than Bree still, not having completely recovered from my hospital stay, but I had fun helping her pick out her outfit nonetheless.
"Why is what you're wearing so important?" I ask with a chuckle, my body spread across her bed as I lie on my stomach. She has this fuzzy blanket that makes her bed ten times more comfortable than my own.
She lets out a groan as she pulls a shirt from her closet, studies it for a second before tossing it onto the pile. "Because, you never know when you might find a hot guy, Leah. They're everywhere. A cute outfit can be the difference between leaving with a phone number and leaving empty-handed."
I laugh at her overdramatic words. "Bree, we're going there to have fun with friends, not hook up with guys."
"Who says you can't do both?" She says to me with a playful wink, and I laugh even harder.
We talk for a little longer before she finally decides on a pale yellow sundress and some brown sandals. Now it was just a matter of waiting for Noah and Caleb to finish their morning practice and get ready themselves.
It's not long before the front door to Bree's house opens and closes, closely followed by the sound of footsteps making their way up the stairs.
"Hey!" Bree calls out, and my eyes widen slightly as the footsteps stop outside her door before it's pushed open.
Noah's gaze finds Bree first, drawn by the movement of the chair in the middle of the room she's spinning on. "Oh, hey. You almost ready to go?"
"Yeah," Bree answers, grabbing a pair of socks off her desk, her hands working to maneuver them over her feet. "Leah and I have pretty much just been waiting for you to get back and get ready."
