Hopelessly Broken

69. Nice

6.21.20

One would think that the world would be a moderate temperature at 6 in the morning, but they're wrong. I don't know why, but it's really humid out here. Things are sticking to me that should never be stuck, let me tell you that much.

"Come on, Devon, one more!" my uncle urged while standing next to me as I tried to do push ups. Everyone else seemed to be doing just dandy, but I was suffering big time. Curse physical activity to the maximum. I might actually prefer school, and that isn't normal. As I dropped my arms down to attempt one more of the tedious exercise, I couldn't do it anymore and my arms collapsed. "Come on, are you a baby?"

"Yes sir," I wheezed while trying to get in a few breaths. I'm not the strongest person physically, but that isn't really my strength in life. What is my strength? Yeah, I don't even know that. It's not like I was dying from a few push ups; no, we've ran 2 miles, done 50 sit ups, and they made me learn how to fight. It's only six in the morning, people. Are y'all out of your minds?

"Get up and start over!" While the older man spoke, he poked me in the side of the ribs with his foot, and I sort of wanted to bite the limb clean off of him. The grass was tickling my back, and I could tell I was under par to the rest of them without even using my magic. Not only is it just a stupid defensive power, but I'm not even physically fit enough to use it. While my uncle verbally harassed me, I watched as the others messed around with magic, and it hurt deep in my chest to know that I'm not good enough to be with them. The doubt in my head slowly spiralled out of control, and I curled into a tight ball to escape the noise around me. With the constant shouting reaching my ears, I was slowly falling apart inside. Is there a reason I'm not able to get left alone? "Useless," my uncle scoffed, and I knew he was right. I am useless, and I don't deserve to be here with these other people ages better than me.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing!?" Oliver, you don't have to come to my rescue all the time.

"What kind of a man can't do 20 push ups?"

"You don't have to be an ass about it, though!" My mate crouched next to my bunched up form, and I felt his hands trying to probe me to uncurl myself. "Come on, puppy. You're alright." Once I finally allowed my muscles to relax, he picked me up until I was on my unsteady feet. Instead of trying to stand on my own, I leant my body heavily into his for support. With the sun finally beating down on us, I began to sweat even more profusely. I had gone through my whole water bottle a long time ago, so I was starting to feel a bit faint with dehydration. "Alright, he needs a break and some water."

"Absolutely not. There are no breaks in the middle of a battle!"

"Then I guess it's a good thing we aren't actually in a fight! Look at him."

Both pairs of eyes landed on me as I tried to stay up, but I barely noticed as I clung to Oliver through a rough batch of dizziness. My face pushed into the material of his shirt for release from the overly bright sunset, yet I still wobbled on my feet. "He needs to man up if we have a chance at winning this!"

"He can't man up if he dies of heat exhaustion! His body is still weak from yesterday! You have to have some consideration for his needs!"

As the two continued shouting back and forth, I drifted in and out of consciousness. My eyes slowly drifted over the rest of my friends and family who were staring at the fighting pair, and they made contact with Jack. As our eyes connected, I felt the worst wave of dizziness yet, and the spinning sensation made me accidentally throw up over Oli's shoulder. Finally my legs were lifted up around his waist, and I leaned my head against his neck while he walked. I slid out of consciousness until I felt my body sat on a counter, and I opened my eyes enough to accept a glass of water. My hair was sticking to my forehead, but at least I could only see one Oliver again. I felt a damp wash cloth pressed against my face, and I welcomed the soothing coldness.

"Thank you," I breathed while leaning against the rough fabric.

"You're welcome, Dev. He went too far, we can both agree on that, right?"

I nodded my head, but being in the cool with replenished water was definitely making me feel a lot better than before. If Papa walked in with me on the counter, I would surely get the butt whooping of my life, but I could only hope he wouldn't. "Sorry I'm not as physically fit as I should be."

"You're fine. I didn't fall you because you're physically fit, no offense. I love you because you're you, puppy. I'm not gonna let crazy medium man hurt you just because you can't complete an insane work out regime. Here, drink." I tilted my head back for the much needed liquid, and it was sort of shocking how quickly I could down the whole water bottle. Marching band skills trademarked. As soon as it had slid down my throat, I leaned forward into Oli's strong chest. "We should get back before your uncle bursts a vein."

"Yeah." The comment sent me into a fit of giggles, but I climbed down from the counter while they died down. I know, I'm a crackhead. Oli reached up into the cabinet for something, and he pulled down a gallon jug of water.

"This is gonna work, yes?"

"Would be concerned if it didn't. Not much of a bigger container I can get."

We walked together back outside, and I was shocked to see that everyone had gotten a break. They stared at me while I crossed the field, but I just stared straight back. When I just crouched next to Jack, he leaned towards me ear. "Thanks. You convinced him to get his head out of his ass for a few minutes." The boy's shirt was also sticky with sweat, and it made me realize that I wasn't the only one challenged by my uncle. "Bro, you came back with a freaking gallon?"

I looked down at my water jug with a smirk and nodded my head which sent Jack into a fit of giggles.

"If you're done," Uncle snapped at us, and it immediately quelled Jack's laughter. Well... Not all the way. Why does this guy seen to have a stick up his ass? "We have a serious problem on our hands and hardly any time to fix it! Get a grip!" This time it was my time to internally laugh. Apparently when this man gets mad he starts to sound like the American Gordon Ramsey... Good to know.

"Yes sir!" I chorused to hide my giggles.

"Now... We move into the hard stuff."

Does the chapter title make me seem immature? Yes. Am I immature? ...Yes.