one.
Mom and Jen took turns explaining it to me and reading out of different
pamphlets until my doctor came in. Great. More questions and poking. My family
had a list of questions for him too—literally. They’d written a list.
I let them talk while I read over one of the pamphlets on
recovery. A lot of it I knew from talking to the doctors and nurses, but it had
some good news. Damaged brain cells can repair themselves. The brain can even rewire
itself and grow new pathways so you can get motor control back.
The pamphlet shook while I tried to read it, thanks to my
damn hand or nerves or whatever wasn’t working anymore. While she was here, I
did my best to hide all this from Avery. She’d feel guilty if she knew how hard
this was, and I didn’t want that. Or worse, she might quit college to help me.
“Hey, listen,” I said, interrupting two different
conversations. The doctor, nurses, my parents and Jen all looked at me,
startled. “I need some rest. Some quiet.”
I closed my eyes before I could see them all pass around a
hurt look. After some murmurs, the light went out and the room went quiet.
I didn’t really want quiet or to be alone. I wanted to be
out there somewhere, on a slope training or even on a run. Hell, I’d take being
in Avery’s head while she went for a run. Anything but this, away from her,
hardly able to control my body.
I knew I was slipping down in a hole of self-pity, but it
felt kinda good at the moment. I tried rolling onto my side, giving it to it
just this once.
Chapter Eight
Jasmine
“See you tomorrow, Jasmine!” Matt called as we left advanced
drawing. I gave a little wave, wishing once again that I could like him. He’s super
friendly and good looking with dark brown eyes and this rich, golden brown skin
that I want to paint in a portrait sometime, and he’s been talking to me since
we had a class together last term. But I just haven’t felt it.
Truth be told, I haven’t really felt it with anyone for a
while, not since Corbin. I’ve had a few dates and some hanging out with
different guys, and then I tried a relationship with Drake. He was great for a
couple of weeks, but then he kept cancelling on me and always had something else
to do. I dumped him in a text. Maybe he knew I wasn’t that into him anyway. It
doesn’t work that well to try something new when you’re stuck on someone else.
I’ve spent a year and a half trying to get over Corbin, and
it’s been like pulling myself out of molasses…while not wanting to give up the
molasses. Even while I tried dating other people, I ended up seeing him again
and ruining everything.
My phone buzzed. Avery was supposed to be heading back down
here soon so I pulled it out right away, but then I got a funny feeling before
looking at it. I checked it while walking down the hallway. It was from him.
What you up to?
Corbin’s face came up beside the text, stopping me like it
does every time. I stepped to the side of the hallway.
God, I hated this. I hated how one tiny little text from him
sent my heart pounding and my entire body lighting up. And I especially hated
how I would spend at least five minutes thinking about what to text back.
Not seeing you today asshole— That’s what I wanted to
send and s hould send, but I knew I wouldn’t. I could just say I was
busy. I was. And I didn’t have to drop my plans every time he got horny or
bored. He’d spend a few hours with me and then disappear again. Why couldn’t I
write him off? I didn’t need this anymore.
Corbin was my artist when I got my first tattoo. I
researched online to find the perfect style, and he worked at a shop in
Medford. The tattoo took three hours and we talked the entire time. We clicked,
like really really clicked. He thought like me on so many things. He said the
same lines as me. He had some of the same mannerisms as me. He even loved art
like me. He ended up asking me out for a date that night to celebrate my
Mom and Jen took turns explaining it to me and reading out of different
pamphlets until my doctor came in. Great. More questions and poking. My family
had a list of questions for him too—literally. They’d written a list.
I let them talk while I read over one of the pamphlets on
recovery. A lot of it I knew from talking to the doctors and nurses, but it had
some good news. Damaged brain cells can repair themselves. The brain can even rewire
itself and grow new pathways so you can get motor control back.
The pamphlet shook while I tried to read it, thanks to my
damn hand or nerves or whatever wasn’t working anymore. While she was here, I
did my best to hide all this from Avery. She’d feel guilty if she knew how hard
this was, and I didn’t want that. Or worse, she might quit college to help me.
“Hey, listen,” I said, interrupting two different
conversations. The doctor, nurses, my parents and Jen all looked at me,
startled. “I need some rest. Some quiet.”
I closed my eyes before I could see them all pass around a
hurt look. After some murmurs, the light went out and the room went quiet.
I didn’t really want quiet or to be alone. I wanted to be
out there somewhere, on a slope training or even on a run. Hell, I’d take being
in Avery’s head while she went for a run. Anything but this, away from her,
hardly able to control my body.
I knew I was slipping down in a hole of self-pity, but it
felt kinda good at the moment. I tried rolling onto my side, giving it to it
just this once.
Chapter Eight
Jasmine
“See you tomorrow, Jasmine!” Matt called as we left advanced
drawing. I gave a little wave, wishing once again that I could like him. He’s super
friendly and good looking with dark brown eyes and this rich, golden brown skin
that I want to paint in a portrait sometime, and he’s been talking to me since
we had a class together last term. But I just haven’t felt it.
Truth be told, I haven’t really felt it with anyone for a
while, not since Corbin. I’ve had a few dates and some hanging out with
different guys, and then I tried a relationship with Drake. He was great for a
couple of weeks, but then he kept cancelling on me and always had something else
to do. I dumped him in a text. Maybe he knew I wasn’t that into him anyway. It
doesn’t work that well to try something new when you’re stuck on someone else.
I’ve spent a year and a half trying to get over Corbin, and
it’s been like pulling myself out of molasses…while not wanting to give up the
molasses. Even while I tried dating other people, I ended up seeing him again
and ruining everything.
My phone buzzed. Avery was supposed to be heading back down
here soon so I pulled it out right away, but then I got a funny feeling before
looking at it. I checked it while walking down the hallway. It was from him.
What you up to?
Corbin’s face came up beside the text, stopping me like it
does every time. I stepped to the side of the hallway.
God, I hated this. I hated how one tiny little text from him
sent my heart pounding and my entire body lighting up. And I especially hated
how I would spend at least five minutes thinking about what to text back.
Not seeing you today asshole— That’s what I wanted to
send and s hould send, but I knew I wouldn’t. I could just say I was
busy. I was. And I didn’t have to drop my plans every time he got horny or
bored. He’d spend a few hours with me and then disappear again. Why couldn’t I
write him off? I didn’t need this anymore.
Corbin was my artist when I got my first tattoo. I
researched online to find the perfect style, and he worked at a shop in
Medford. The tattoo took three hours and we talked the entire time. We clicked,
like really really clicked. He thought like me on so many things. He said the
same lines as me. He had some of the same mannerisms as me. He even loved art
like me. He ended up asking me out for a date that night to celebrate my
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