M E A N I N G F U L
M I S T A K E S
Chapter Forty Six
Just like my dad had said, when Doctor Garcia left, Hunter is the first and only person to let themselves in my private hospital suite.
"How'd you go?" He asks and takes his original spot beside me on the bed, adjusting so he can lie on his side to face myself.
I sigh and rethink about to everything my psychologist had spoken to me about. I hate being told what's wrong with me. "I've officially been diagnosed with anxiety and PTSD. Something to do the PTSD is what triggers the anxiety- I can't quite remember. It was a lot to take in hearing from a professional."
The session is still hazy to me. I didn't want to believe what she was saying. What made it worse was when I discovered that she'd spoken with Doctor Weston, my dad, and friends about me- asking questions about me. Of course, William ratted me out by admitted about the time I fainted when I first saw Noah again.
Hunter frowns, but he doesn't stare at me like there's something wrong. He looks at me the same way he always has, with his hazel eyes softening. "It was just a one off, I promise."
This was no one off.
"It's okay." He stops me before I can rant even more. "It changes nothing. You're still going to be the strong girl who throws milkshakes at people, and my little Lollipops."
Warmth spreads across me from his words. Though there is a flicker of something else when he brings up a different topic. "Why does my milkshake scandals always have to be bought up?"
Hunter chuckles and closes his eyes for a brief moment. "Because I will never forget when you threw it at me. That smell stayed with me for days and no matter how hard I scrubbed it off, it still feels like it's there." I had managed to change the topic without noticing, but I knew Hunter was going to change it back the second his face changes. "But, my milkshake thrower, having mental health complications doesn't define who you are. It's not something to be scared about."
"But I don't want them." The words fly out before I can stop them. He frowns deeply. "I-" I swallow a ball of razors that forms in my throat. "I mean, I already have to deal with my problems with food, I can't handle anymore problems-"
"They're not problems." Hunter sits up straighter and gently cups my face with both his hands. "They're just bumps in the road, but they're not problems. They're only natural given what you've been through. Think of them as scars from the wound."
I decide not to tell him about how I hesitantly agreed to taking the newly prescribed anti anxiety meds. I said I will accept them- not take them. I still haven't decided if I'll try making them a part of my daily life.
"Can we plan my great escape out of here already?" I suddenly ask, ignoring his previous statement although it ran deep through me. One of his hands moves from my cheek to the back of my nape.
My stomach ties in knots when he flashes his bright smile, one I will never get tired of looking at. "We'll plan it when you're capable of walking." He plays along with my joke. "You can't even laugh yet, Lollipops. Let's take it slow."
"I can so." I defend. "It just happens to hurt a lot."
"Gods, I love you." Hunter says suddenly, the grin not leaving his face.
"I love you, more than you know."
"If it's as much as I love you, then it must hurt." He speaks quietly. "So much that you're the first and last thing on my mind everyday, and I feel a need to reach for you whenever you're near."
My heart swells and expands enough to feel like it's the only thing inside me. I smile through the exisiting pain I'm in.
I could try to find the words to compete, but I can't. I close the small distance between us and kiss Hunter. Gosh, I'd been itching to do this since I woke up and saw him for the first time.
He's more gentle than usual, ensuring that he doesn't hurt me with any movements. His hand stays on the back of my neck while my grip reaches his hoodie. The material bunches in my grip.
The kiss is only short, because I know I won't be able to hold my breath for long until the clenching in my chest starts again. I pull away the moment a tickle starts in my chest, and lean my forehead to his.
"You didn't hurt Jake, did you?" It may be the wrong time to ask, but I can't stop the pressure to hear if he was angered towards him.
It definitely was a bad time to ask. Hunter's free curls into a fist and his knuckles turn bleach white. His attention points away from me- he stares at the wall ahead.
"I was driving back to Lacewood with mom when Becky called me, because Jake was too frightened for you at the time. All she told me was that you're in hospital." He starts explaining, yet to answer my question. "Mom drove me here as fast as she could. When I found your room, thanks to William's terrible navigation skills, the first thing I saw was Jake's guilty face and I was convinced it was his fault. No, I didn't hurt him. I tried to grab him, but Will knew and stopped me. Then Jake explained what happened."
When he turns to face me again, the concern swims in his hazel eyes. I hate seeing that on him. Especially since I am the one putting it there.
"You don't blame him, do you?" I ask slowly in hopes there is no more added conflict between the two. I don't blame Jake for what happened. He was there just in time to help.
His head drops and a sigh escapes his lips. "I want to, but I can't." Hunter reaches for me hand. "Part of me says he should've gone with you, but he doesn't need to hold your hand all the way to the girls bathroom. You should've been safe. I'm glad he and Becky got there when they did, though I wish it was earlier."
I grip his hand tighter. "Thank you."
"For what?" His eyebrows knot together.
"For not being mad at him. Or hurting him. Or blaming him. Jake was there to help." He is the reason the shady man was arrested.
Hunter nuzzles his face into my shoulder. "I didn't want to give Will the stress of visiting two people in the hospital." He jokes, and I have to bite down any urge to laugh at his feud with Jake.
"Three," I correct. "As much as I love you, I would've kicked your ass for hurting him and put you in a room here too. Though this time I wouldn't let your mom pay the extra to give you your own private room. Speaking of which, did my dad pay for this room?"
I am fine with being in the standard wards, sharing the area with three other people. The curtains would've done justice for privacy. I feel terrible for him paying just for more space.
"Your dad and my mom split it." He tells me, but I wasn't expecting Rose to help with the expenses. "They both demanded to pay the money, so they comprised and met in the middle."
Someone knocks at the door and pushes it open- not waiting for an answer, William strides in with everyone else following behind. He holds a plastic bag in his hand.
A wide smile is on his face. "We have icy poles!" My best friend sings loudly and slumps down in the seat beside the bed when everyone else finds an area to sit or stand.
William hands everyone the paddle pops, and it reminds me of being a child on a hot day. Mine is lemonade based, and I'm grateful for the sweet flavour to distract me from my headache.
My dad, Rose, and Janet settle in the room- but they have different snacks. I assume they all took a trip to the food court while Hunter was given time alone with me as we were promised.
Everyone falls into a casual chatter, avoiding the topic of what had landed me in this bed. I glance around at my friends and know they are so much more than that.
Blood or not, they're my family.
It is relaxing being able to attend school again without the worries of 'what does Mia have planned today', or my personal life problems being the topic of the Lacewood rumour mill.
I was discharged from the hospital yesterday, and since then, I have kept the bottle of anti anxiety pills within reach- but they are hidden from all my friends.
I haven't taken one yet, or at all, but I have them on me incase I ever change my mind.
My dad, Hunter, Rose, and William had all tried to force me to spend the day resting at home in my father's care, but I had to come to school to catch up and start the routine for the cheerleading competition.
It's lunch time now, and I have changed into the cheer training gear. Since winter has began settling over Lacewood, it was time for the black tights and long sleeve set to be worn.
I dump my water bottle on the bleachers and carry the small but loud stereo over to where the girls are waiting.
I steal a glance at the basketball team who occupy their half of the court, my eyes immediately falling to the boy with dark hair and soft hazel eyes that easily make my heart melt.
He is already looking my way, but still manages to catch and throw the ball in the warm up. I grin at him, my stomach tightening when he winks. Coach clicks his fingers in front of his face, meaning Hunter's attention is stolen from me.
"Seriously, Lolita," Ava catches my eyes once I turn back to the girls. "What do I have to do to have so much time off school and not get in any trouble?" She asks with a chuckle.
I shrug and place the CD in the stereo. We're not allowed to use the sound system in the gym when the team is practicing because it's not fair to distract them.
"It's Lacewood, you can get away with a lot here." I speak about a lot more than high school attendance. "So, I did some thinking, and what if we used our traditional warm up song for the competition?"
This is my last year as cheer captain- the last year we can use that song. It seems fitting to make it our competition theme.
There is still so much to do. We have to ensure that the routine for the game this week is polished and completed, as well as the two required routines we need for the competition.
"It seems only fitting that use it. For at least half of us, it's our last year in this team. Why not? It'll make it meaningful for us." Becky inputs, nodding her head.
"We can always vamp it up and edit it like we've done with songs for games." Hailey adds, earning more nods from everyone, including myself.
"It's settled." I clasp my hands. "What we'll have to do is have everyone text a song suggestion for the first dance, and we can put a suitable one."
The girls all smile, I can tell some of the ten are already planning on what song they'd suggest.
"Let's practice Friday's halftime show now, and we'll figure out the rest on a weekend maybe." It is my first time rehearsing the dance since showing the girls the steps last Friday. I can vaguely remember the moves since my mind is so distracted.
Everyone settles themselves into their positions and I press play on the CD containing the song which I had edited to only last a minute for half time.
Once the music starts and it is time to start moving, I feel my brain beginning to tick over to remember all the steps.
I keep my eyes ahead, and bite down on my tongue to narrow my focus. Panic grips my limbs when I nearly forget a move and a dull ache shoots in my head from when I hit my head at the mall.
I've been like this all morning. It took me almost an hour to find something warm and decent to wear to school. Putting on clothes normally wasn't a bother to me, but today none of it felt right.
It feels an awful like sitting on the ledge of a building with nothing to hold onto, and I'm waiting for a gust of wind to push me down.
There's a nervous ball that forms in my throat while I dance, since I'm reminded that I have to choreograph both dances for the competition that had been moved to next week. The news of it being earlier not only frustrated me, but every other team competing. No one is ready completely.
My deadline is on Wednesday to have everything perfect before we get on the bus for the long drive. I won't have an ounce of personal time with having to organise everything and practice for the competition with the team.
My weekend will be completely filled with cheer practice now. The lunch breaks aren't long enough. Maybe even- my thoughts die. I take a wrong step in the dance, and lose my balance instantly.
My ankle bucks and bends to the side. It's enough for me to fall to the hard court, using my hands to break the impact. I nearly weep thinking that if it were worse- the competition wouldn't happen with me part of it.
I'm okay.
I'm okay.
I'm okay.
It's only now that I sit on the ground cradling my rolled ankle that I realise we hadn't warmed up like usual. I forgot.
"Lolita," Becky gasps over the music. I quickly stand again since the music is still playing when she asks, "are you okay?"
The pain in my ankle isn't severe, so I know there is no major damage. I continue on with the dance. "I'm fine, don't worry." My teeth are gritted.
I steal a glance at the basketball team when I move positions in the routine, and thankfully no one saw my fall.
My cheeks had start to heat, and I don't know if it's from the embarrassment of tripping or the stress that crawls under my pale skin.
I force myself to focus as best I can so I can land the few flips and tricks we added to the dance, and thankfully, I land then- although they were a little unsteady.
The music and the dance stops and each of us girls catch our breaths. "Are you okay?" Gert asks once other girls wander to get their water bottles.
I don't walk over and get mine, because the pain doesn't feel as bad when I'm not moving it. I have no doubts that it will be bruised for swollen.
I plaster the fake smile I used to cover my emotional and physical pain. "Yeah, sorry. I was kept on a bed for quite some time, so my feet will need some time to adjust to the ground again."
Becky presses her lips together, buying the lie I sold. I don't want the girls looking at me like I am incapable of performing because my mind refuses to be quiet. All I have to do is go home and ice my foot now.
"You better start to get your groove on then." Jade jokes and pulls down the sleeves of her rolled up shirt. "We have to perform on Friday, next Tuesday for another game, then the competition next week."
Just like that, the thoughts of all the deadlines fill my head again. "How about we finish early today?" I suggest, needing a break from the pressure. "We have the dance memorised, and we can always practice sometime before the game. We can spend the weekend together for the competition choreography."
The girls seem happy about having most of their lunch break to themselves. I don't have to tell them twice since they nod and gather their things. "We'll text you song recommendations?"
"Message them to either me on social media, or Becky and she'll send them to me." I answer Gert while they slowly back away.
"You're leaning on one leg." Once all the girls are gone, Becky says this with a single raised brow.
I swallow and pray she doesn't think I'm hurt. "Hm? I don't see what's wrong with it."
I hate lying. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. But it's all I've ever done and I feel terrible each time for it. I always get looked at as if something is wrong, and I can't handle it for something as little as ankle pain.
"The whole time that I've known you, you've never stood like this once." Becky is that she may be quite, but she's very good at observing people.
"My legs are still waking up from staying on that hospital bed for those few nights. I have to give them shifts for standing so I don't lose my balance like in practice." She seems to believe me, and I hate myself for so swiftly lying to her when I could say the truth.
"Oh, okay." She frowns. "I'm going to go get dressed into some warmer clothes." She laughs and rubs her arms. After that, she runs off to the girls locker room.
I prepare myself to grit through as much as the ache in my ankle as I can. I've had worse- I keep telling myself. It's a lot worse when I walk- like a hand is around it and squeezes enough to break bone.
It's not broken- that's the only reassurance I have.
Most of the girls are slipping on their jackets when I enter the locker room, and before I know it, they leave to use up what was left of the break.
I don't want to completely change back into my regular clothes because that means I'll have to take off my shoes and irritate my ankle. So, I decide to keep on my training gear, but slip on my lavender coloured bomber jacket overtop to keep me warm.
I grab my stuff and leave, making my way to sit on the bleachers to let my foot rest. Each step closer to the bleachers is like a hammer is attacking my ankle.
Finally, I reach the bottom of the bleachers and slump down, my hands immediately curling around the wood beneath me.
A thought fills my mind.
Something is always happening to me, mostly on the negative side. I sigh at the knowledge. My ankle is a perfect example of it- it happened right after getting out of my hospital stay.
The universe continues to throw obstacles my way. Most I can't dodge or avoid, but I have to do my best to leap over them and prepare for the next. With each one, I hope to get stronger.
I wanted to call them problems, but I remember Hunter telling me that they're not that. He'd convinced me, and I think he may be the only thing in the universe capable enough of doing so.
I feel stronger with him, like the person I want to be.
No anti anxiety medication in the world can make me feel as powerful than I do with Hunter beside me.
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