Chapter 25: Overstimulation

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𝚃𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟿𝚝𝚑
Griffin POV

My mom has always been terrible at hiding her emotions.

There was this family Christmas we went to six years ago, where we roadtripped over to Utah to see my dads parents for the weekend. Mom wasn't very happy to be going over there in the first place, because if someone thinks that my dad is bad, then they definitely haven't met his parents.

She tried her hardest to paste on a smile and get through the holiday until my grandpa made a joke about all of the weight she had lost recently. I might've only been twelve years old but I knew that mom was having a tough time holding onto a healthy weight. It was always a sensitive topic that Roselyn and I stayed out of.

Mom, the rockstar of avoiding conflict, faked a laugh while dad chided our grandpa. She tried telling dad that it was okay, even while her face screamed 'get me out of here'. We haven't seen that side of the family much since.

Her mannerisms always give her true feelings away.

That's why I know she's royally pissed off as she helps me, drags me, towards the hospital doors.

Dad and I faced off again last night, so I've been avoiding him like the plague all morning. He was supposed to bring me to this appointment this afternoon, but the thought of being in the same car with him for more than thirty seconds makes me want to drink bleach.

I practically begged mom to drop me off on the way to her hair appointment, instead. It's the only way that this would work, especially because Roselyn and Forrest are gone for the day and I'd be damned asking for Parker's help. Thankfully she agreed and said that that would be fine.

That was before she realized all of her shirts were dirty, I couldn't find any of my sandals, her car needed gas, and now I can't move any faster than a practiced limp.

She's not mentioning the fact that she's ten minutes late to her appointment, however I know she's worried because her jaw is tight and she keeps lifting her wrist to look at her Apple Watch.

What's worse is that I maybe could've used the crutches to bring my own sorry ass into the hospital, except I can't use the fucking things. I just can't.

"Mom, you need to slow down," I say between gritted teeth. My casted leg lands a little too heavily on the sidewalk again and I grimace at the shockwave of pain that flares through my knee.

"We're already late, Griffin! Almost there. You're doing fine," she tries to coax me as she continues to drag me along. Her fingernails dig deeper into my arm.

I bite my tongue to refrain from asking how fucking fine should feel. Her persistence works and we make it into the lobby in record time.

Ira, the nurse that's been overseeing my case and rehabilitation for the past month, is already standing at the front counter. Her brown arms are resting on the stone as she talks with the secretary. When the sliding doors whoosh open, she turns her head to see who's coming in. Her eyes land on me and she immediately straightens, hurrying over to help.

"Good timing!" She exclaims and takes the crutches that I've been dragging along the sidewalk the entire time. "I was about to have Morgan call you guys."

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