Y/n Conklin and Jeremiah Fisher borderline hate each other. There are constant eye rolls and scoffs when the other one is near. But they learn to put it behind them when it comes to their crushes, Conrad and Belly. How could they get the two lovers...
I reach my hand out to touch my face and flinch at the contact pain. Pulling my hand away I notice the blood on my fingertips.
"Holy shit, Y/n." Jeremiah speeds over to me. "I'm sorry, shit shit shit." He's holding onto my shoulders lightly not sure what to do.
"I think you broke my nose." I cry with my hand lightly set on my nose.
"Hey, I heard yelling. What's going on-" Conrad walks out onto the porch and sees Jere and I kneeled in the grass.
He runs over and sees the blood. "What happened?" He asks sternly.
"The ball- it hit her, she thinks her nose is broken-" Jeremiah stutters.
Conrad tilts my chin up and pinches the bridge of my nose.
"Tell the moms that we're going to the doctor." He says, helping me into the car. "Now!" He rushes since Jeremiah just stands there processing.
Jere rushes into the house and Conrad starts the car.
"You're gonna be okay, head up." He tilts my chin up again slightly, keeping his eyes mostly on the road.
I'm still crying softly, keeping my nose pinched.
***
"Oh, yep. Ouch." The doctor says. "Welp, it's definitely broken."
"So what are we gonna do about it?" Conrad asks.
"I'll just place a light splint on it. Should heal up in about.." He pauses in thought, "Three weeks."
I whine, this is gonna be the longest three weeks of my life. I'll practically be wearing a marshmallow on my face.
The doctor wraps me up and sends us off.
Conrad and I load up into his car and start driving home.
I guess I didn't notice during all the chaos, but my bracelet has my blood stained on it.
Silent tears start rolling down my cheeks.
"Hey," Conrad lovingly pats my thigh, "Three weeks won't be the end of the world, it'll be off before the deb ball." He encourages.
"Right..." I agree quietly.
That's not why I'm upset.
"I'm gonna go up to my room." I tell him and hop out of the car.
"Alright, tell me if you need anything." He says.
I give him a sad smile and walk up the stairs.
Papa passed a few years ago, and this bracelet was the only thing he ever really gave to me. He was a simple man.
Every year on my birthday he would add another string onto the bracelet, it would just keep growing as the years went on. The goal was to keep it going until I was an official adult, but he died before it reached eighteen strings.
I never take it off. I never add strings. I never do anything. It's probably the thing in this world that means the most to me.
***
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(your bracelet pre-blood, but you are free to imagine your own)
***
Honestly, I thought he was crazy for untying and retying it every year, but he loved it. He loved how happy in made me.
He would always tell me stories about how he learned the pattern from Grannie, how she taught it to him before he went off to war, so he had something to keep his mind busy on slow nights.
And now,
Now the bracelet I've had for as long as I can remember, is covered in my fricking nose blood.
My dried, nose blood.
And as a girl, I can tell you right now: This blood isn't coming out.
