“A lot of things can make us feel like that, it doesn’t mean that you’re… you know.” I point at her stomach, and she only blanches further. Yeah, worst girl for the job for sure.
“I can get you it today, then at least you’ll finally know.” I sit down beside her, as she lets out a shuddering breath, Elena’s eyes slide closed as tears trail her cheeks.
I really do wonder how I became the person that people turn to when they’re in trouble. I’m not even sure I’m all that qualified for the role.
I disappear into my bathroom, throw on my black leather pants, red satin top, and brown jacket. I have no idea if it goes well together or not, but I like it. I pull my hair into a loose braid with a navy blue hair tie, and smile at the fact I somehow found a way to wear all of their colors. Tucker won’t care that it’s something small like a hair tie, I mean, they may not even realize I did this consciously. Either way, I grab my blue satchel, okay so maybe I felt a little guilty that his color was so unseen, and then get ready to leave my room.
Elena follows me out, and doesn't look back as she disappears off down the hallway. I know what I have to do, and I'm not looking forward to it. I tried to think of some other ingenious way, where I wouldn’t get injured, but nothing has come to me. I guess I have no other choice. It has to be bad enough to need immediate attention, and for me to not be able to wait for one of the guys to make it to me in time. Yeah, nothing to worry about.
I get through the business class, although with it all being prep for finals, I can already feel a migraine beginning to build. My baking class isn’t until towards the end of the day, and I have lunch first. It’s probably for the best, knowing what I have to do, I doubt I’ll have the stomach to eat anything if it was right before lunch. Econ isn’t much better than business, and math just makes my brain feel broken, but the relief that courses through me as I sit down at our table in the mess hall is short lived. The minute I spot Elena, everything comes flooding back.
If this is how I feel, then it must be absolute torture for her. She’s had to wait two weeks for this test, something that will tell her exactly where her future will lie. I don’t even know who the father could be, and it feels rude to ask her if she does. I mean, there’s no judgement and I won’t shame her if the answer is no, but it can’t be easy.
Look at me, if I fell pregnant tomorrow, I wouldn’t know who the father is. Aeron, Emmet, Tucker, or Thallon. The only one not in the running is Darius, and that’s only because we have to be careful. Besides, our relationship, whatever it is that we have, it’s more than physical. He understands me, and sees me. Past the stuttering and meekness. It’s the same for him, I don’t see an ex convict who nearly killed a man, I see a good guy who made an impossible choice, and had to suffer for it. We haven’t lived parallel lives, but we haven’t had it easy either. We weren’t born with a silver spoon in our mouths, and we don’t come from money. I think we understand one another more than the others ever could. It doesn’t make what I have with the Harkwrights any less meaningful, it’s just different. Like the way I feel for them. Sure, I love three guys, and I don’t love one more than the other, but it’s different with each of them. I don’t think I could ever explain it out loud, maybe not even to myself, but I know it’s strong and I don’t think anything will ever change the way I feel.
Sure, they still have secrets, I think they always will. Honestly, I think it’s impossible to ever truly know someone. I just don’t think their secrets are big enough to rock our foundations, to make me turn my back on them. I also know that Sir was talking out of his ass. Yeah, Emmet has a temper, but he would never hurt me. If he was trying to make me afraid of his son, then he failed. I’m not sure what his reasoning was, but I doubt it as altruistic.
“Homegirl, there you are.” D wraps her arm around my neck, dropping a kiss on my cheek. Before Caitlyn does the same on the other side.
“We were talking about what we’re all going to do when we leave here, and our girl Cait had an amazing idea. I mean, it’s brilliant.” D is smiling like a fool, and I chuckle lightly.
“Color me intrigued.”
“Not now, come to my room later and we’ll fill you in. You know, when there are less ears about.” D smirks, and my curiosity burns strong, but I can be patient.
I have no idea what they’re planning, but I can’t see myself saying no.
Twenty minutes until my baking class is over, it’s now or never. My stomach roils as I pick the pan of boiling water up and off the stove. Keeping an eye on it, I need it to be hot, but I don’t want to burn myself too badly. What am I saying? I don’t want to burn myself at all. Shit, I can’t. I just can’t do it. I want to help her, but this is too far even for me. I don’t think she’d be happy either, not if Elena found out I burnt myself just to get her a damn test. It would only make her feel worse.
I tip the water away, angry at myself for coming up with something so stupid. I put my hand in the sink, to start washing up the cooking utensils I used, when a sharp sting takes over my left palm. I snatch it out of the water, and just stand there ,staring at the blood pooling down my wrist.
“Shit, One. Are you okay?” Dustin hurries to my side, snatching my hand in his, before running it under the cold tap. The sting only intensifies and I whimper a little, as the teacher rushes over.
“Right, medical center. Now. One, that looks like it may need stitches.” She grabs a clean towel and pushes it against my hand. “Hold that in place, and keep the pressure on it, I’ll let your guard know.”
She hurries out of the room, and I follow after her, my hand trembling as the white towel stains with my blood.
“Come on, One. I’ll escort you straight over,” Darius says, the epitome of professionalism, as the teacher disappears back into the classroom, and he leads me outside.
“What happened?”
“I was washing up, and didn’t realize the knife was in there. I must have picked it up by the blade.” My voice is shaky, as I breath through the pain. Usually I can hold it in, but once I let it out, there’s no helping me.
“We can’t wait for the guys. Let’s get you over there, and I’ll send them a message to let them know.” He directs me to the center and tells the nurse what happened.
She smiles kindly at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I don't think this woman has a sympathetic bone in her body, why would she even want to be a nurse?
“You can wait in the waiting room,” she informs Darius, before leading me to Cole’s office, and sending me inside.
“Shit, Luna. What the hell happened?” Worry is etched into every line of his face, and it’s sweet that he cares so much. At least, it should be sweet. It just gives me this icky feeling that isn’t sitting right with me.
“I caught myself on a knife during cooking class,” I grind out through my teeth, as he directs me to the bed and helps me get seated.
It doesn’t feel right having his hands on my waist, but he doesn’t keep them there any longer than necessary, so I try to ignore it.
He removes the towel, and starts cleaning the area. It isn’t long before he starts applying the stitches, and I stare at it in fascination. I guess I’m more morbid than I thought. Oh well, at least it’s my non-dominant hand.