Ferrari (1) DRAFT

15

I peel my eyes open, the slamming of the door waking me. I blink a few times, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. My head is pounding, and my eyes crusty. I rub them, trying to open them up more.

"You're up," a voice says.

I lift my head, and spot Oliver sitting in my desk chair next to the door. He's got his phone in his hand, and still wearing the suit I last saw him in.

"What time is it?" I grumble, barely able to speak.

"11," he tells me.

"At night?"

"Morning," he corrects.

I groan, digging my face back into the pillow. I've been asleep for hours, and I still feel like crap.

"We've been waking you up every two hours, but I'm guessing you don't remember any of that?" Oliver asks.

"No," I say.

"How do you feel?"

"Shit," I sigh, shifting around some more in bed.

A doctor came over to see me last night. She looked at my head and my knees, and told me I have a concussion. It's only mild but bad enough to bother me for the next few days, and also keep me up. She told me I'd have to be woken up repeatedly throughout my first few nights, but I don't remember waking up at all.

"The doctor gave you some intense meds," he tells me. "There's some more on your bedside table."

I sit up slowly, and take the pills. Suddenly, Liam appears in m doorway, a scowl on his face.

"Hi," I say, leaning against my bedhead.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

I shrug. "Better once these pills kick in."

"Oliver told me what happened," he walks further into the room.

I nod, my eyes flickering between the two boys in the room. Liam's looking at me too, but Oliver's typing on his phone. He missed out on work yesterday, so he's probably got stuff to do.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Lucy," he sighs. "What they did was completely fucked. And they will pay for it, Lucy, I swear to god, you won't be seeing either of those fuckers anytime soon, okay? We went to the principal this morning, and they'll get kicked out of school."

"Kicked out?" I frown. "Expelled?"

"Hopefully, yeah," he says. "At least suspended."

"Good. I mean, what they did, and the things they said...." I trail off.

"It's okay, Lucy," my brother assures me, coming even closer to me.

"I just felt so powerless, you know?" I Admit.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he urges, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Don't, Liam," I shake my head. "It's over."

Liam moves to speak, but then I notice his hands. They're hanging by his side, one with bandages, and the other cut and bleeding.

"What the hell, Liam?" I exclaim. "what did you do?"

He scoffs. "Well, someone had to do it."

"You beat them up?" I call.

"What else was I meant to do?" He grumbles.

"Nothing violent!"

Liam lets out a groan, but he doesn't say anything else. He wouldn't have a chance to anyway. My mother barges through the door, her eyes full of concern.

"Lucy!" She calls. "You're up!"

She hurries into my room, and cups my face.

"My poor baby," she gushes, analysing all my features. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" I assume, peeling her hands off of me.

"Oliver called me last night, and I came home straight away. Your father wanted to stay home too, but you know how his boss is," she looks away momentarily. "Liam and I made sure they won't bother you anymore, okay? All your friends came over last night, and brought us dinner. They should come over again today, if you want."

"Yeah," I nod. "That sounds good."

"I'm sure Oliver could use a break too," mum says. "He's been up all night with you."

I look over at him, meeting his eyes. What the hell? Doesn't he have better stuff to do?

"He has?" I ask.

He gives me a sweet smile, before looking away again.

"Do you want any food?" Mum changes the topic. "You must be starving."

I agree eagerly, and my mum heads off to make me some pancakes. The perfect breakfast.

Liam's phone beeps, catching all of our attention. He purses his lips, tells ups its Mary, and leaves the room.I know I'll have to talk to him later about what he did. He shouldn't have fought them for me. I know he had good intentions, but he shouldn't have resorted to violence.

I sigh, and turn over to Oliver. We smile at each other, and I step out of bed. He stands up as well, but instead of walking out of my room like he expects me to, I walk over to him.

He gives me a quizzical look, but I ignore it, and throw my arms around his waist. The side of my face presses against his chest. His breathing stifles as he hesitates. Seconds pass until he lifts his arms over my shoulders. His chin rests atop my head, and his hand runs up and down my back.

"Thank you, Oliver,"I whisper. "Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me, Lucy," he says. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"I really, really appreciate you being there for me, and helping me. I don't think anyone else would've been able to deal with me in that state like you did."

"It's okay. I'd be there for you no matter what."

"Thank you," I repeat. "So much."