To Remember 2 : The Call ( Hoodie X Reader ) BOOK 2

Getting Ready

Chapter 2: "Getting Ready"

"No," you say sternly, narrowing your eyes. "I am not and will not go to school with a cut this big on my head, mom!"

Your mother lets out a sigh, shaking her head in frusteration as she grumbles, "(Y/n), you've already been out of the hospital for a few weeks. You need to go back to school!"

"I refuse!" You cross your arms and turn your back on your mother, scowling.

She let out a sigh, running her hands through her hair as she stared at you. "Please, (y/n). Your father and I have work to get to, and we don't want to leave you home alone!"

You grumble a few choice phrases under your breath before hissing at your mother, "Fine I'll go to school. Give me ten minutes to get ready but you're driving me. I'm not walking." Your mom nods in agreement, watching you walk upstairs.

Once in your room, you began to pace back and forth, a hand rested lightly against your throbbing wound. The doctor had told you to take it easy, that stress would only make the healing take longer. School gave you stress, going back to school would make your wound take forever to heal. You mutter under your breath, quickly taking off your pajamas and putting on a decent outfit for school.

"If mom had this big of an injury she wouldn't be going to school," you grumbled, shuffling over to the bathroom. Rubbing your eyes in frusteration, you go through your morning bathroom routine. "Why do I have to go to school?" you complain, "Why can't I just stay home and rest? I don't want to deal with explaining to anyone what happened!"

You pause for a second, murmuring to yourself, "What did happen?" Your eyes narrow, trying to focus on the events of that night.

Nothing came to mind.

You couldn't remember anything between the moment you arrived and the moment your head got wounded. Heck, you couldn't even remember how your head got wounded in the first place. "(Y/n)," your mother called from downstairs, "are you ready? I want to get you there before class starts!"

After a groan escapes your mouth, you trudge downstairs. You didn't want to go toschool today, but you didn't really want to deal with your mother.