Behind The Hoodie

Chapter 6: Texting

I manage to sing myself my whole playlist in my head. We finally get to the house and the car stops.

"Thanks for the ride," I say trying to be polite. He did take time from his day to do this for us.

"Not a problem darling."

He's making me regret thanking him. 

I open the door and jump down on one leg. My dad hands me my crutches from inside and I take them carefully to not let my bag of clothes fall. I head up our steep driveway in the grass so I can get better traction. 

My dad follows me and that questionable car drives off. He pulls out his keys and fumbles with them to open the door. Once unlocked I quickly go in.

You know the worst part about all of this? You don't even create a fear of cars. You create a fear of alcohol. Of drunk people. Of bars. Of those bottles. And yet people make it sound like its the best thing in the world because it lets you forget your pain for a bit. And I really wish I had something like that.

I take a turn and head to my room. I put my clothes in the laundry basket that sits in the corner of my room. I then head over to my drawers. I need a shower so bad. I grab a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top and grab a few plastic bags.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna take a shower."

"Alright, careful of the cast."

"I know."

The cast goes around my shin till it turns into a knee brace right before my knee and the cast goes down to above my Achilles heel. I close and lock the bathroom door setting my clothes on the counter next to the sink. 

I wrap my cast in plastic bags keeping water from ever reaching it. I get in the shower and wash away the smell of ash, burning gasoline, blood, and tears. Once I finish I am careful to dry off since the water was so hot. The bathroom mirror is fogged from the steam of the shower.

I take off the plastic bags and get dressed, which by the way is a struggle, then put my hair in a towel till I can brush it out. I head out and let the fog slowly lead out of the bathroom. I brush my teeth and try to clean myself up a little.

I grab my crutches as I walk out of the bathroom and head to my room. I let my hair dry as I grab my phone. As I brush it I see I have four messages. I don't know that many numbers unless the pizza place texted me.

As I run the brush through my tangles I click on my messages. It brings me to my line of message history and at the top is a chat room labeled 'the cool guys'.

I click it with the hand I'm not brushing my hair with and the messages open.

Gray: Hey Beth how u holdin up?

L.J.: You were pretty out of it

Mason: When you able to walk again?

A: Give her a break

Me: I'm doing alright, how did you guys get my number?

Trever: We found your phone and looked for your number before we turned it in

L.J.: So when do you get to walk again?

Me: Not for a while, how out of it was I?

Gray: You were talking about goats and the queen of England

L.J.: And chick flicks that were never made

Me: Shoot...That bad?

Trever: Yeah