Part Two: Chapter Twelve

109 3 2
                                        

"Lindsey, you can't postpone your season to stay here with me," I say firmly.

"Look at you! You can barely move you're in pain all the time, you still have trouble breathing-" Lindsey argues, but I cut her off.

"My parents are here, I'll be okay."

"Liv."

"You have to go. Kickass. Everyone on your team will agree."

"I don't want to leave you," she says, her tone suddenly softer.

"You moved to Seattle with me so I could have the job of my dreams. There's no way in hell I'm letting you stay here and put yours on hold."

"But-"

"No buts. Please, do this for me. And don't try to argue, because as much as I'd like to debate about this with you for hours, I really don't have the energy." My voice quiets as well.

I'm laying on top of our bed in the master bedroom of the ranch. Two weeks after the explosion, I thought I would be feeling a hell of a lot better than I am. I was only released from the hospital a few days ago.

She softens at my words and sits on the edge of the bed next to me, her eyes concerned. "How're you feeling? Don't lie."

"Like I was in an explosion," I mutter bitterly. Lindsey is unamused, so I rephrase. "Breathing is easier every day. But the burns still hurt when I move them."

The burns on my arm weren't as bad, but my leg and right side are a whole other story. My parents refused to leave, and as it seems that my girlfriend is going on a tour of the nation in two weeks, they'll be here for another month to 'take care of me' as Lindsey says. She refuses to let me be alone in this house.

I can understand why though. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't dare leave her side. I'm physically unable to take care of our animals too. So, I guess it's all around for the better that Mom and Dad are here.

I can only imagine what it was like for them. Amelia's death was hard on all of us, so when Lindsey calls them, saying I've been badly hurt in an explosion- the same way Amelia died- they must have freaked out. I haven't had a chance to really discuss it with them yet, as I've been spending most of my time sleeping, but I will soon.

"Can we go downstairs?" I sigh, tired of staring at the same walls in our bedroom for hours. I can't even make it down the damn stairs.

Lindsey glances at the clock. "Your dressings need to be changed first."

I roll my eyes as she leaves to get the crap ton of supplies she needs to make sure my burns don't get infected. The stupid, stupid dressings on my skin have to be changed twice a day, and I can't move enough to do it myself.

She comes back and gets started, peeling off the old gauze and throwing it away. I study the wounds on my skin. They definitely don't look as bad as they did two weeks ago, but they're still pretty gross. How Lindsey manages to magically make them feel better without puking, I'll never know.

"I hate this." I groan.

She glances at me for a moment, offering a comforting smile. "If it makes you feel any better, growing up on a farm I've seen and treated some pretty nasty things on animals so it doesn't really bother me."

"It bothers me. I don't like being an invalid."

"Oh, cut the pity party, you're not an invalid."

"Feels like it."

"You are very beautiful and very strong." She says confidently, placing a kiss on my lips for good measure.

"You still love me, even as an invalid?" My tone is light and teasing now, a smile on my face.

The AcademyWhere stories live. Discover now