People Talk

10

Shouts erupted in the room as I tried to recover from the blow. I felt a red hot pain emanating from my nose. Incomprehensible screams from Dallas to the culprit filled the room. I wearily pushed myself off of the floor, my arms feeling useless and heavy.

I stared at a spot of the floor as I focused on pushing myself up, only to watch as blood began to pour from my face. I tucked my knee under me, bringing a hand to my face to discover that not only did my nose receive a painful blow but it was bleeding.

My finger tips now covered in blood, I brought my wrist to my nose instead, trying to not only stop the flow but hide it.

Not even a second later and large hands were jerking me up from the floor causing my wrist to slip from my nose.

"What is wrong with you?" Dallas shouted before turning to me, "He's bleeding!"

Dallas blotted under my nose with a tissue, slowly at first as if he was trying to avoid hurting me anymore.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, catching my eyes. 

With a nod, I mumbled back, "Fine." I took the tissue in my own hand, keeping it pressed firmly in my nose as the taller boy wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling us away.

"Dallas!" My dad called after us, I was too disoriented to answer yet Dallas didn't answer simply because he didn't want to.

Or at least thats what I thought until I looked up to him, "Dallas!" My dad shouted again, footsteps pounding behind us.

Dallas looked as if he struggled trying to hold himself back from answering. He looked furious and I knew if he did answer my dad, he'd yell at him. We only stopped for a moment at the front door. Leaving enough time for Dallas to drape a jacket around my shoulders from the coat rack and throw open the door.

"Where are you taking him?" Dad asked as he followed us outside. Dallas seemed to push us along even faster, shoving me in the truck and buckling the seatbelt over me. Before I could even comprehend everything, Dallas was speeding away from my house.

A soft groan exited my lips as I laid my head back onto the head rest, tissue still pressed to my nose. It only took a few moments of heading in the wrong direction that I realized we were headed to town.

"I thought we were going home, Dal." I whispered, peeking at him through my peripheral.

Dallas took a hand off the wheel to run through his hair. "I think you might need to go to the hospital."

I immediately shot up from my seat, shaking my head vigorously. My crippling fear of hospitals were enough to make me not want to go but the thought of keeping Dallas there all night, hospital bills if there was truly something wrong, worrying my dad, were the seal not to go. I wouldn't. Dallas couldn't force me.

"I'm not going!" I told him. "Look at me! I'm fine! It's not the first time and it probably won't be the last. I promise you, I'm durable." I forced out a small chuckle but Dallas didn't find it too funny.

The blond haired boy was quiet for a few minutes, contemplating his next words as he pulled the truck onto the side of the road, even though there was no one else out. Once we were stopped, he turned his full attention on me.

"You could have a concussion or something! I don't want us to go home and something actually be wrong. We'd be too far from the hospital if something serious was to happen, E. I just don't like taking chances like that."

I nodded because he did have a point. But I was fine. It wasn't the first time I had been thrown into a piece of furniture and definitely not the first time face first. Veronica had even thrown furniture at me before. Dallas couldn't seem to comprehend that I was more than likely just fine. But I didn't want to worry him. I hated making him worry.