I'm with the Band

Chapter 8: Arrangements

I want to say that I woke up with renewed energy. That I sat up in bed and realized that life was more then what it seemed and that I was worth so much more then what happened in yesterday's horrific events . I want to say that Ashleigh apologized to me for being a nasty bitch and that we joined hands and skipped to our war and literature class, happy as can be. 

But the world is a cruel, cruel place. 

The next morning I stared at the back of my door from the hallway. Horrific words and slurs scribbled across a brand new photo of Leighton and I. This time, there was no hiding my identity. Today's photo showed me running from Leighton after our kiss, heading back in towards the venue. The side of my face on display, there was no denying that the girl in the photo was, in fact me. 

I stared at the photo and felt nothing. 

I had woken up earlier to go to our on campus nurses office. The bruising on my shoulder had gotten worse and I struggled to lift my right arm past a certain point. My trip to the dumpster had left more then one injury, knowing that my mental health had taken the biggest hit out of everything. 

On my way to the nurses office the stares of my peers were unbearable, their eyes trying to strangle me to death with an invisible force. Every corner I turned, silence fell amongst the groups of people in the area, following my every move with jealousy, anger and envy. The people that stared were the most tolerable of my peers. Some, when they saw me, grabbed their nearest friend and attempted to reenact the scene outside the venue with Leighton and I, making kissy faces at each other and adding their own creative dialogue. When I looked at them, acknowledging their behaviour, they would only sneer at me in response showering me with words full of hatred. 

I just focused my head forward and marched to my destination. 

The nurse told me that I simply had a shoulder contusion, something usually associated with blunt force trauma where sufficient force propels its energy into the muscle. Around the muscle was some swelling, adding to the purple bruising. She asked me if I got it from playing Rugby and I responded with "ya, sure. Something like that." She shook her head and said something about sports becoming more and more violent and gave me a sling to wear to rest my shoulder during the day. Ice your shoulder every two hours, avoid heavy lifting, stay away from sports blah, blah, blah. I was at least relieved that the sling took some of the pressure off of the pain in my shoulder. I thanked the nurse as she gave me some extra Advil, shouldered my backpack and set off to meet Sierra before classes started. 

Sierra was waiting for me on a bench outside of our dorm room, overlooking the main entrance of our campus. When I approached her she smiled and waved to me. She was a bright beam of sunshine in a sea of my misery. 

"Oh shit, your shoulder. Let me carry your bag for you." She stood up and went to grab the straps from my left shoulder. I playfully swatted her hands away. 

"Sierra, I can carry my own bag. You better watch out, if people see you being nice to me they might get the impression we're dating." I smiled at her and she burst out laughing. It was the first time I had smiled today. 

"Are you okay" She asked sincerely. 

"I mean no. But yes, thanks to you I'm okay." A look of understanding passed between us. "Mabye we keep what happened last night from Sasha for a bit? If that's okay with you? I'd rather not have to relive it by telling her. Speaking of Sasha, where is she?" 

Sierra frowned. "She texted me saying she couldn't hang because she was meeting a prof for help on an assignment." 

I blinked. "Sorry, Sasha went to go get help on an assignment? Huh. Since when did she take her grades so seriously?"