Grape Juice from Lemons

CHAPTER XXXI

Her...

I open my eyes slowly, feeling the pain surge through my entire body. Have they not heard about antibiotics or something like that? The pain leaves quickly with the smallest trace left behind. I turn my head to my left and stare at my bandaged and bruised arm. My fingers feel dead before a shiver runs down my spine, it's so damn cold in here. My shoulder hurts like a mother-, but I'll make it manageable.

I start to push myself up until I see someone sit across from my bed. I stare at the figure, trying to make out who it is, before I realize it's Shawn, with the same bloody clothes he had on last night. Do I have my bloody clothes on?

I stare down at my shoulder and sure enough, my shirt has been ripped and opened up enough so they could do the stitching. My arm feels dead.

Shawn is hunched over, his head hanging low. His copper locks are hiding his cheekbones. He lightly snores. He has on a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, one of his legs over the other. He doesn't look comfy and I was shot. That sounds even.

He reminds me of myself, the night Maxence crashed. No position was comfortable. I was tossing and turning in my own soft bed. Bryson slept next to me the entire night. Wondering where my mother went or where my dear brother was. Jennifer didn't return home, I was all alone. I cried the whole night in whispers, I didn't want to wake Bryson. And every time he turned I sang him a song, salty tears streaming down my face. It was so hot, then it was cold, then it was itchy and too comfortable and not comfortable enough. I couldn't sleep. I just stared at the phone and waited for him to tell me it's a prank.

The call hasn't come.

Next to me sat Declan, with one of his legs thrown over the other as he read a book. He shrugged towards Shawn. " He's been here all night by the way." I struggle to sit straight but soon manage as I stare back at him.

" How is Bryson?" He rolls his eyes at my first question.

" That's really the first question you have?" Unknown to him, his eyes are sad while he scans my body. Bryson is my rock, my hero, a knight in shining armor. I care for him more than anyone in this world.

" Your first question was better?" He smirks and shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck as he adjusts his legs.

I stare at Declan and his tired face, his messy hair, and clothes from last night. They look stained and clinging to his body as he rolls his eyes.

" Don't stare." He comments and I roll my eyes.

" What did Gloria say?" I ask another question and he smirks, looking down.

" That woman is really fond of you two. She only spoke kind words and she seems like she cares for the both of you, as if you're her own. " I shrug while I smile because it is like that. Eastside sticks together and Gloria is considered family.

" How was he? Bry? What did you think? " I had so many questions, because no one, out of my old friend group knew about him, or asked about him, much less cared for him. And now, with Declan having this information, I feel vulnerable, yet excited to know, if I'll start to like him more, or I'll have to knock his teeth out for insulting my son.

" He really is your kid. He played with cars and rammed them together, soon enough he took one of them and acted as if it were a gun. He was respectful though. "

" My boy," I whisper and stare at him." What else?" I ask, being intrigued by my son, I care for him. So, so much.

" He isn't just a two-year-old boy who likes the color blue," Declan admitted before continuing.