Owen

Prick

"YOU'RE SO UNGRATEFUL..."

"FUCK YOU!"

We'd already been yelling for a good couple minutes when Brandy slammed her hands down on the table. The plates clattered, the wine in her glass sloshing a little.

"BOTH OF YOU STOP!" She screamed over us.

I had to admit it was effective. We both stopped mid yell and stared at her. She was fuming, something I wasn't sure I'd ever seen before. She shoved her hand into the pocket of the hoodie she had on, keys clanging together. She threw them at Jase, teeth clenched as she said, "go for a drive Jase."

A smirk pulled at my lips watching the keys smack Jase right in the center of his chest. He opened his mouth about to protest when Brandy pointed to the door.

"Now Jase." She demanded.

He left out a huff, abandoning his plate of food as he sulked toward the door. I was feeling a little more smug than I should have but it gave me some satisfaction watching him get yelled at. That all came crashing down when the door of the house slammed shut a little harder than necessary. Brandy turned her gaze on me and the smirk that had managed to find my face fell.

"What is your deal? You're normally an asshole but tonight you're just being a downright prick. So what is it?" She barked.

I clamped my mouth shut, staring down at the hardwood floor. I wasn't going to play this game.

"I get that you're angry, I do, I'm sure I'd be pissed. But we didn't do this to you."

"Jase bought the alcohol." I muttered.

I don't know why I threw him under the bus, especially after all the time that had passed. It wasn't like he was our only supplier that night. It wasn't like he was there that night, refilling my cup, telling me to drink, cheering me on the drunker I got.

"What?"

I looked up at Brandy, her face angry and desperate all at once.

I shook my head, dropping my eyes back to my lap. I couldn't look at her. "I don't blame him."

And I didn't.

It was all on me. And that was probably the worst thing about it. The only person I could blame was myself and I couldn't get away from me.

"I fell. This morning." I blurted, tears trying to swell in my eyes. "I thought I could get myself up. It's all I fucking do at therapy, transfer back and forth." I shook my head, my words catching in my throat as a rush of humiliation and helplessness flooded through me again. "My hand slipped or buckled or maybe I didn't even do it right to begin with, it all happened so fast, but next thing I know I'm stuck between the bed and the chair. I'm fucking useless."

I felt the dam that I had tried to keep my tears behind break.

"You have to stop saying that Owen." Brandy scolded, her voice wavering. "You are not useless."

I looked up at her, her hands still braced against the table, her hair pulled into a messy braid, eyes shiny with her own unshed tears.

"You have to stop. You have to stop looking at where you want to be and focus on how far you've come." She rounded the corner toward me.

"Have you looked at me lately?" I muttered, desperately trying to hide my face from her. I didn't want her to see the tears that had escaped.

I watched her bend down in front of me out of the corner of my eye, her hands on my knees. I just tucked my chin closer to my chest.

"Yeah, actually I have. And you're still you Owen. You just may have to go about life a little differently."

"I lost everything Brandy."

My voice cracked. I wasn't fooling anybody. A blind person could tell I was a blubbering mess.

"That's not true. You have me, your dad, your grandparents, Jase even if he is annoying, your friends, Jaelyn..."

"I want to run." I cut her off. "I want to play soccer. I want my scholarship. I want what I had." 

I wanted it so desperately. I missed it. I missed my early morning runs, practicing sprints, my feet pounding into the grass right before I launched a ball. I wanted it all back.

"I'm gonna lose my spot at U of M if I haven't already."

Brandy let out a breath. "Just because you don't have a scholarship anymore doesn't mean you can't go to school."

I knew that. But why did it feel that way?

Brandy ran her hand through my hair, pulling me into her arms as best as she could. Hugs in a wheelchair weren't the most natural thing I'd come to find. But regardless of how uncomfortable and awkward it was, I let her.

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I'm curious, what do you think of Owen? We're finally getting into the story a little bit, I take forever to develop my characters and set everything up, I know. But talk to me, have any predictions? I'm curious!