When I Met Him In The Summer

Twenty three

I am sure I am dead. That, or my eyelids are swollen shut, and trying to pry them open feels like I'm lifting boulders with my face. 

I'm going to go with dead though, because after last night, i should not be feeling nothing. I try to sit up and holy fuck, there it is. It feels like i just flipped a switch inside me...my entire body comes alive, and i fall back weakly in pain...a gross understatement. I'm too tired to scream, but I'm even more tired to cry.

Probably because I've cried enough. Maybe I was hallucinating, but I'm pretty sure i regained consciousness twice last night and i cried myself unconscious the first time, and then to sleep the second.

Right now, all i need is a hot shower, and a good night sleep—my neck is sore from sleeping on Jake's bedroom floor all night. I try to stand up again. My eyes ARE swollen shut, but I can still sort of see as I clench my jaw and stagger onto my feet.

I must look like a fucking zombie as I sway in Jake's room, feeling the air infront of me with my hands. I make it out the door, down the hall and into the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face, rinse the blood out of my mouth and then take off my clothes.

"Shit!" I mutter as my hands involuntarily fly to the ugly, purple bruise on my stomach. I stare at myself in the mirror for a hot second, and I want to cry again. I look hideous. Fucking hideous.

I'm purple and yellow and red and swollen all over...my lip is split right down the middle, and I'm not sure—i still cannot see that well, my eyes are swollen shut—but I think my nose is crooked. For a second, all the pain I'm feeling turns into boiling hot rage. Rage towards Jake, and especially rage towards Austin.

I want to hold them both under water, until there are no bubbles. I want to crush bottles into their food. I want to cut them open without anaesthesia. I grab the sink as I start to breathe faster.

I'll feel better after I take a shower and rest. I pull my pants down, and step into the shower. I turn on the cold water, and grimace at the blood pooling at my feet. Okay, I need my body to calm the fuck down. I was hit a few times in the face...this whole Carrie situation is unnecessary.

I turn off the water when my eyes start to ease open. Of course there's no clean towels, because apparently, when I don't do the laundry, nobody else does. I pick up my dirty clothes from the floor, and almost shit myself doing it. God, this fucking hurts.

I hug them to my body and run, as quickly as I can to my room and put on some fresh clothes.

I check my phone as I crawl between my sheets, and I wince with every movement. I'm praying for death right now...I'm sure that is so much better than living like this.

I have a few missed calls from Sora from last night, and I quickly hit the call button against his name.

"Hey, Sora. Sorry...I could not make it to the phone last night. Something came up," I croak, and each word feels like lava going down my throat. Yet another problem.

"It's fine, Danny. Did you get home safe? Are you okay?" he asks, and I can tell I woke him up. His voice is thick with sleep, but even the more sexy right now. As an afterthought, my heart swells at the concern.

"Fine," I lie. "You?"

"I think I'm being clingy...but I miss you already. Can I come over later today?" he asks, and I so badly want to say yes, but I sigh.

"You're not being clingy, Sora. You're all I can think about all day everyday too, but I don't think you can come over just yet. It's...uhm, complicated," I say painfully, and my heart squeezes. There's no point going into detail and worrying him.

"That's fine. Just take care, okay?" he says, and I hum, and hang up.

I squeeze my phone and clench my jaw. Great! Now, I am pushing Sora away because of those two shits...but rather that than let him come here and get murdered.

If Jake had done this to me, I can't imagine what he would do to Sora.

There's a message from Val, saying she's coming back really soon, and I type back a bunch of celebratory emojis and a can't wait, and then I turn off my phone.

I decide I need an aspirin—or four—and a snack, so I get out of bed and go downstairs. As I inch down the stairs, the doorbell rings, and I freeze and start to turn around. If that is Jake, I cannot face him today. He's totally wasted now, and probably still pissed.

But Jake has his own house key, and Austin always goes out with him. So who the hell is ringing the doorbell this early?

"Coming!" I yell as I support myself against the wall, and finally make it to the front door. I swing the door open, and I'm sure my jaw drops to the floor when I see who it is behind the door.

"Mum?"