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“Yes, sir,” I muttered, in too much pain to argue.
“What was that?” He cocked his head, a faint smile tracing his mouth. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Better. Now get out of my sight and go straight to medical. Tell them I sent you. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
Feeling like a scolded child, I shuffled out of there, and headed for medical.
Praying to a God I didn’t believe in that nothing was broken.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Zane asked me the second he sat down at our usual table in the cafeteria.
“Nothing’s broken. Doc says the bruising will take a little time to heal, but ice should help bring down the swelling.”
“And Coach…?” He cocked a brow.
“He’s pissed. Wants me to sit out of practice for the rest of the week. He’s worried about my state of mind.” I air quoted the words.
“We’re worried about your state of mind,” he snorted, and I flipped him off with a half-hearted middle finger.
“I saw her, it’s done.”
“You’re more deluded than I thought. You two will never be done, Nix. You’re like night and day or some shit. One can’t exist without the other.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, sounding a lot more confident than I felt.
Because that’s how it had always felt to me too; like we were two opposite halves of the same coin. The same fucking soul.
Birdie had been the quiet to my loud. The calm to my storm. The voice of reason when I was reckless, a flicker of light in the endless dark.
But things had always been more complicated than that between us.
“Oh my God, Nix, baby. What happened?” Cherri arrived at our table with an over-dramatic gasp.
“Relax, Cher, your boy will live.”
I kicked Zane under the table. The last thing I needed was Cherri misreading his tone.
“Jesus.” She leaned down and gently cupped my face. “Does it hurt?”
“What do you think?” I said, wincing as she smoothed her thumb over my jaw.
“Need me to kiss it better?”
“I bet he has something you can kiss.”
I shot Zane a hard look and he chuckled. “I’m out of here. Mrs. Kyrie wants to discuss my future, like we don’t know my options are pretty fucking limited. Text me later.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot, friend.”
His dark laughter followed him out of the cafeteria.
Asshole.
Cherri continued checking over my injuries as if she was a qualified nurse. “You need me to—” She reached for me, but I snagged her wrist.
“Just leave it, yeah, Cher. I’m not in the mood.”
