Eleven Favours I Owe Him (Kismet-on hold)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The massive throbbing pain on the right side of my head wakes me up. I must say I didn't expect the damage to this extent but I underestimated my little accident yesterday. My hand runs up and down on the bed trying to see whether Greyson is still beside me but the cold sheets tells me otherwise. My eyes finally snaps open, and I see the sunlight peering through the cloudy glass window. For a moment, I remain lying down waiting for my double vision to unite into one.

When it does I immediately search for my phone to look at the time. It's already noon that little accident may be no little after all. A small frown crawls on my lips as the pounding in my head remains. It's making me nauseous. A dry gag escapes my lips and I pocket my phone hurrying downstairs to the kitchen to grab water, and tylenol.

I two pieces of white tablets, in my mouth and chugging the cold water down-the water itself relieving some of the nausea. It'll take some time for the medication to take effect, and for now, I sit down on the chair, placing my face on the cool table, kneading my temples.

Scrolling through the phone, I notice that there have been a couple of missed calls and text messages. I scroll down and texted all of my friends apologizing for the delayed response when the phone suddenly vibrate and almost chuck it to the ground frightened by the little motion.

Pressing the green key, answering the unknown caller.

"Hello?" my voice come out raspy and barely audible. I clear my throat and try again."Hello?" My voice remains weak but audible this time.

There's a fumbling sound at the end of the line all their familiar voices in speak in hush.

"Emily! Emily! Are you all right? We heard what happened. How are you feeling? Do you hurt anywhere?" Trish's voice whispers inquires in rapid succession into, before I can even respond I hear more voices. A small smile cracks on my face, imagining her panicked reaction.

"Em!? Are you all right?" A deep voice belonging to Jake asks, concern evident in them.

"Emily Joon" Kim starts, her melodic tone reeks of concern. "What the actual funk?" she finally says in frustration, and I hear a collective gasps-including myself. That's the closest Kim has come to swearing, and I don't exactly know how to react.

"I'm fine, just a small cut. Mom told you, right?" I say, twirling a piece of my brown hair in my hands.

"Grey did" they all confess in unison, and the mere mention of his name makes me blush. "He told us you banged your head pretty hard and was bleeding profusely. He sounded miserable so we thought you.. er.. were badly hurt." Jake replies lowly, his tone lighter that it had been before. I roll my eyes, Greyson can overreact sometimes.

I hear the sound of typing, at the other end, the sound of someone's stiletto hitting the floor. A click of realization draws in my mind of why they are all talking in fervent whispers. My lips conforms into a sadistic smile, excited to test my hypothesis. I begin by clearing my throat.

"Where exactly are you guys anyways?" I shout at the other end of the line, despite the rumbling headache.

I hear their voice panic, 'shushing' me.

"Luni Joon-ie, quiet down! We're at the office, serving out lifetime of weekend sentence," Trish explains in bitter whispers. She hates having to work and weekend in the same sentence.

At first she thought of it as a break from the stressful school life. I remember how her face dropped, and her pale pink lips quiver when she first saw the office back in 8th grade. The monotonous and lifeless gray walls almost made her cry, until she tasted their coffee and canteen food, that's when she actually did. Tricia, hates every minute she spends in the firm.