Resisting the Player -- [Completed - Unedited]

Chapter 27: Play Something For Me

"Cass, sweetie, are you okay?" Mom asks through the phone, sounding frantic.

It's been two days, and the doctors have determined that the concussion isn't anything serious,  and that i should be fine if I stay off of my feet until I'm better.

"Yes, Mom, I'm okay." I am okay, besides the ever present headache and the sharp, shooting pain in my ribs, and the throbbing in my leg. But yeah, other than that I'm fine.

"You're going to be staying with Roxanne and Jeff until your father and I get back, okay?"

"Who are Roxanne and Jeff?" I ask, confused.

"The neighbors, sweetie. Mr and Mrs. Brewer?"

Oh, right. Adults have first names too, Cass.

Wait, my parents want me to stay with Aaron and his family. For an undisclosed amount of time.

Great.

Even though we've cleared up the fact that I don't hate Aaron, I still don't know exactly why he would think that in the first place.

And he's been acting weird around me. Maybe it's because we're alone in a small room and he's not sure what his girlfriend would think about that, or maybe it's because he just doesn't want to be cooped up in here with me. I don't really know, but I'm hoping it's the former and not the latter; with the former I can at least pretend he wants to be here with me.

"Okay, Mom. Do Aaron and Autumn know?"

"Yes. Aaron and Roxanne are on their way to pick you up now." A voice sounds in the background, coming from her side. "I have to go. Call me before you go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

She hangs up and I take my phone away from my ear just as Mrs. Brewer walks through the door, Aaron behind her with a wheelchair.

Mrs. Brewer smiles at me. "Ready to go?"

I nod and Aaron wheels the wheelchair over to the side of the bed and helps me sit down in it. The doctors said to avoid crutches until my ribs have healed more, so the wheelchair is my main mode of transportation.

Aaron starts pushing me out of the room when Mrs. Brewer is done gathering my stuff––a bunch of flowers, my backpack, and some school stuff––and soon we're out of the building.

I breathe in the fresh air, and thoughts of food start to enter my mind. Hospital food is so disgustingly good, but I'd take a pizza or McDonald's over it every damn time.

And now I want ice cream. Great.

Aaron stops by his car and opens the door, and I panic.

"No."

He pauses. "No what, Cassie?"

I shake my head. "Please don't put me in there." Even though I don't remember the crash in detail, I do remember the sound of the crash and the feeling of my bones breaking as I screamed.

Or maybe those are just fake memories, made up by my brain. Either way, they're frightening enough to the point that I don't want to get in this car.

I close my eyes as Aaron talks to his mother, but they jerk open once the wheelchair starts to move.

Aaron's pushing me out of the parking lot.

"What are you doing?"

"You said you didn't want to go in the car, so I'm walking you to my house."

Gratitude rushes through me, but the feeling is trumped by guilt. He's exerting himself because I'm too scared to get into a car, something I've been doing every day with Gracie and Gabby for the past three years.