Dirt Poor

ELEVEN - Johnny

This is kind of a boring chapter (in my opinion), but need it for the story :)

Enjoy!

It was the jostling movement that pulled me from unconsciousness. However, things around me still seemed to be a blur. I was there but not really there-I didn't really know everything that was going on and I struggled to understand if anything was real. I heard voices, but my brain couldn't decipher what was being said. Soon, I fell back into unconsciousness.

When I woke again, my body felt hot and heavy. I could feel the warmth of my face and neck without actually having to touch my skin myself. Peeling my eyelids open was a feat in and of itself. Once I did, I was met with the tiled white ceiling, and from it hung a curtain.

I must be in the nurse's office.

Sitting up was too much of a struggle, and even though my skin felt like the last burning embers of a fire, I was ridiculously cold to my bones and didn't want to get out from under the thin blanket attempting to keep me warm. A shiver ran through me causing goosebumps to break out over my skin. As I tried to rub my arms for warmth, I let out a small wince at my skin's sensitivity.

I hated being sick.

I remember walking with Syre to the nurse, but I also remember passing out and him disappearing. I wonder if he was the one who brought me the rest of the way. I wanted to scoff at that thought. Syre doesn't do nice things for people. He looks out for who he believes is number 1, and that's himself.

A cough racked my body and I moaned in discomfort from the way it made my throat feel, not to mention the rib that was either cracked or broken by my father last night. A hand grabbed the curtain and pulled it back to reveal Vance holding my bag and a cup of water.

I guess that answers my question.

"Hey, LB," he said, coming forward and handing me the glass of water.

I took a small sip through the red and white bendy straw and the cool liquid did little to soothe my throat. That would just take time and hopefully, that wouldn't take long. I couldn't afford to be sick-literally and figuratively.

"Hi," I scratched out and now it was Vance's turn to wince at the sound of my crusty voice. "What happened?"

Vance's jaw clenched at that question, "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Well-" I began before the door to the nurse's office pushed open and Syre stood in the doorway with a hint of a smirk before moving to lean against the wall that faced the bed I was in.

"There you are," he said in false concern, "I took two seconds to go to the bathroom and you disappeared by the time I came back."

I stared at Syre apprehensively and opted not to respond for fear of saying the wrong thing. He had an image to uphold and didn't want exactly how he treated me to get out, especially in front of Vance.

Vance scoffed, "Must've been longer than two seconds, Hayes. Danny found her lying on the floor after morning weight training and carried her here."

Danny carried me here? Why would he do that? I assumed everyone would just let me be until I woke up on my own. That is unless a teacher saw me, but most were in their classrooms getting ready for the day.

All I wanted to do was put all of this behind me and go about my day, but apparently, Vance wasn't done giving his two cents to Syre.

"You knew she wasn't feeling well and was burning up. Why did you leave her on her own in the first place?"