Cruel Intentions

Ch. 42 Old Habits Die Hard

Chapter Forty-Two 

Old Habits Die Hard

As if I were on cruise control, I felt my legs moving forward without my permission, or control, I walked straight up to Nate.

Crouching down in front of him, I truly got a good look at the damage he’s done to himself. Apparently I’m not the only one who self destructs when upset. 

I gently reach for his hand and lift it away from his face; unshielding his eyes. Surprised, his eyes snapped open but it wasn’t the sharp, piercing gaze I had been expecting to meet. Of course, he wasn’t completely lacking any recognition as he traced every contour of my face and body, but looked completely glazed over; as if he weren’t all there.

Filing through my memory, it came to me within an instant. Tristan told me he had suffered a severe concussion. Obviously not realizing his actions would have any repercussions, Tristan had struck without thinking, further injuring his best friend. 

“Come on…” I sighed, “Let’s go.” I murmured for only our ears to hear, well aware of the mass audience we had staring at us like we were part of a circus display.

Taking his arm and wrapping it around my shoulder, wrapping my own arm around his fragile and bandaged torso, I started to lift him up as gently as I could. Despite his injuries, the only noise of discomfort was a slightly puff of air that escaped his lips; I was impressed, and well aware and completely attuned to Nate’s body firmly pressed into the side of mine. 

My mind was in shambles and if I was being completely honest with myself, I had never wanted anyone more in my life than I did Nate at the moment, making it difficult to even concentrate on what I had wanted to do; which was call Dr. James to take care of train wreck over here. 

Snapping out of it while I carried the brunt of Nate’s weight as we made our way down the, what seemed like a never ending corridor of the school, I reached for my cell that was in the back of my pocket and sent the good doctor a quick SOS text. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I guided a silent, limping Nate towards the schools parking lot. 

After securely placing the safety belt over the dazed, sack of potatoes taking up my passenger seat, I walked around the front of my car and lowered myself with ease into the drivers side. 

The entire drive remained quiet with the light thrum of music from the radio drifting in the background. I, on the other hand, felt like there was a heavy metal concert slamming throughout my entire body and the main center stage location: My head. My fingers were drumming the steering wheel at a fast cadence, my left legging was bouncing up and down with vigor, and the severe biting of my lip was all I could do outwardly without internally combusting.