Sunday Night Lights

Chapter One | Dead Weight

Kylie folded her arms across her chest, digging her fingers into her over-sized white coat that swallowed her small frame. "So, you're coming to get drinks?" A big toothy grin spread across her freckled face. "It'd help you get your mind off things. I mean, you could literally forget everything if you wanted."

"Oh, I'm sure. I always have a great time going out with y'all, but Daxson and I have already made plans to spend some time together. This weekend is his first game of the season and he definitely wants me to be there for him." I snagged my purse from my lab locker and headed to the exit, secretly hoping her small legs couldn't keep up.

"He can come too," Kylie countered, grabbing her bag and following me outside.

I sighed and gripped the strap of my purse tighter. "We want to spend some time alone. We both have busy schedules. I mean, I'm in my first year of med school and he plays in the NFL." I turned to face her. "You understand right? Isn't your boyfriend a professional soccer player or something?"

Kylie rolled her eyes. "I do understand. My boyfriend and I have the same problems, but don't you live together?"

I tucked my hair behind my ear and glanced at the ground to hide the annoyed look on my face. "Yeah, we do."

"Then, you see each other ever—"

I yanked my buzzing phone from my purse and held it up in the middle of her sentence, flashing a picture of Daxson and I. "Speak of the Devil. He's supposed to be picking me up, so I need to answer this."

Kylie nodded, but she couldn't hide the pout of her thin lips. "Fine. I'll let it go this time. Try to have a good weekend."

I waved at her as I took a few steps back. "You too."

"Don't forget we made plans to study for our anatomy test on Monday!" She called behind me as a friendly reminder.

I'd already turned my back on her and put the phone to my ear. "Hey, you have no idea how good it is to hear from you."

Daxson chuckled on the other end of the line. "Well, hello to you too, beautiful."

"Sorry, it's been a rough day for me." I kicked a rock with the end of my tennis shoe as I walked down the sidewalk.

"Anatomy again?"

I hated the fact he knew me so well.

An exasperated sigh escaped my lips. "Yeah, I thought it would get easier, but it still hasn't. Maybe I wasn't made for med school."

"Ally, don't let those thoughts come back. You've worked so hard to get into this position. Don't give up on your dream. You've got this. I believe in you." The warmth in his voice seemed to pour from the phone and fill me from head-to-toe.

Despite the comfort Daxson's words brought, it wasn't quite enough to quiet my thoughts. "But Dax, every time I see her, I see myself."

Daxson let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. "You know, I'd never let anything happen to you."

"I know."

He was quiet for a moment like he was trying to decide how to respond. "Then, why do you think you've been struggling with this?"

We both knew the answer to his question, but I refused to admit it aloud. It was easier to keep my problems to myself because that's what I was used to, it was what I'd always done with my bulimia. I thought that a mixture of time, and happiness with my new life, would help put everything that happened behind me. Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that. Two years after my father attempted to kill me, the court finally set his trial for next month, and I'm still struggling to cope.