Bitter Blood (BBi)

Chapter 28: Shattered

Chapter Twenty-eight
Shattered

Nearly three days pass before I'm able to walk around without having to lean against a wall for support.

I make myself two-minute-noodles and try eating them while standing upright because sitting down creases the skin at my waist and pulls tight against the wounds edge, causing me more pain than necessary.

The wound is now noticeably better but I'm still asleep more than I am awake and vivid nightmares plague each hour.

I think that it's the first sign of an infection; nightmares and fever. But the wound itself doesn't look infected to me and so far Blue's saliva hasn't seemed to have any ill-effects. I've managed to avoid dad – I guess this is a perk to having an oblivious father – and also pass on a quick excuse to Lara to explain my absence; I have a bad cold.

Four days after the attack, I examine the injury, bandage it back up and accept the fact that its time to return to school. I take a few aspirin before I leave the house and make sure Blue is with me this time – I've been relying on him the last ninety-six hours more than ever before. Even though it seems impossible, it's made us closer.

I drop down behind the wheel of my car with a painful, but concealed, wince. Mrs. Garballey, who I haven't seen for weeks, is standing in her front yard, shuffling through her mail and smiling in my direction. I give her a pressed lip greeting in return, then turn the key in the ignition and pull out of the driveway.

The ride to the school is slow and when I step out of the car and sling my backpack over one shoulder, I focus hard on keeping my expression relaxed.

I quietly instruct Blue to morph invisible so he can come into the school with me. His body shimmers and his tail picks up in the air as he walks towards the gates.

I lock the Impala, hold the keys in my hand and follow him.

“Parker Kingsley!”

I stop short on my road towards my classroom when Lara's shout fills the hall, grabbing my attention along with everyone else's.

I turn around to face her, wait until she's close enough to catch up on her own, then keep walking.

She falls into step beside me. “How're you feeling?”

I shrug. “Better, I guess.”

“You aren't still sick, are you?” she asks, leaning away from me.

I shake my head. “No I'm not.”

“Great!” she leans back in again and smiles. “Guess where my parents are going in four weeks?”

“Where?”

“Norway!” she exclaims and bounces up and down with a little giggle.

“And... you aren't going with them?” I ask carefully, confused by her excitement.

“Nope!” she grins.

“So why are you so happy?”

“Because I'm going to be home alone for two weeks! No parents. No little brother.” she says wistfully. “It's going to be bloody wonderful!”

I laugh but even that gentle little chuckle shakes my ribs and makes a wave of pain wash over my body from the wound hidden beneath the layers of bandages. My head spins and for a moment my vision blurs, causing me to wobble on my feet.

Blue's head lifts and he stares at me in worry.

“Are you alright?” Lara asks, laying a hand on my back for support.

“I'm okay.” I tell them both.

Neither looks satisfied.

“Do you need to go to the nurse?” she asks.

“No,” I shake my head and straighten up again. “I'm fine. Just tired, I guess. I'll see you in Geo, alright?”

I escape down the hall with Blue beside me and blend into the oncoming crowd of people that surge towards their own classrooms.

My side aches all through chemistry and continues on until math, which by then I'm already regretting my decision to come back to school. I decide to at least finish the day, then go home and get some more rest.

During recess, I walk in the opposite direction to the cafeteria and go find a little spot in one of the empty hallways to sit alone. I set out a book in my lap and try to read but when the bell rings I find myself jerking out of sleep. I flip the book closed, shove it into my backpack and get up to go to Spanish.

In third period Blue is sleeping at my feet, head resting on his paws. If he was visible, everyone in this class would be fawning over him, petting him until he hissed their hands away. But invisible he lies happily on the ground beside me, undisturbed.

Mr. Earning, my Spanish teacher, stands at the front of the classroom reciting a string of foreign sentences then picking out a kid at random to translate it. When he tells us to get our books out I'm relieved that he didn't choose me.

I reach down and grab my notebook out of my bag.

“Parker?”

I look up and Mr. Earning is standing right in front of my desk, the middle of his brow creased with a little worry line. The room is strangely quiet and I look to each side, expecting to see a student staring at me from their own desk.

But the classroom is empty.

“Class is over.” he says. “You can go now.”

Mr. Earning stares at me for a moment as I try to register how that's possible. I glance around the room again, then up at the clock. Class started at eleven-thirty. It's twelve-twenty.

How the hell did I just pass by nearly an entire hour without even noticing?

I nod and Mr. Earning returns to his own desk. My book is open but the page is blank and my pen is still in my hand, poised to write.

I quickly pack away my stuff and hurry out of the classroom.

I spot Merida's face in the crowds of students as I pass but continue without glancing back or saying a single word to her. Lara and Stacey are leaning against their lockers, smiling and laughing as they talk to each other. At any moment they'd be heading to our usual lunch table.

I don't join them.

I find my way out of the main crowd and head towards the doors of the school.

I'm desperate to get out. It's like the hallways are too close, my lungs too small. It's like I'm quickly running out of breath.

I don't make it to the doors. I find an alcove with a door in the center leading into the janitors closest and throw myself down into it. I press my back against the wall, hug my books to me and try to breath.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In Out.

The bell explodes overhead and I slap my hands over my ears, a painful sound escaping me. It seems to go on forever, an endless, high-pitched scream.

I put my head in between my knees and wish it to be over.