Bad Intentions (Book One)

Chapter 80

Physical therapy went as expected. It was a struggle but definitely doable. Steve kept wanting to help me every time it looked like I was struggling. Which I thought was cute, but the physical therapist did not enjoy him constantly trying to get involved. I had to remind him a few times that I was okay, and I have been doing this for weeks. Remind him that I wasn't going to get better if I didn't do this on my own.

"How long until you start getting better?" He asked as he wheeled me back to his car.

"I am getting better." I answered him.

I was almost offended by his statement. I couldn't help but wonder if I looked weak. I know I still had difficulty moving but I was doing so much better. Or at least I thought I was.

"Do I not look like I'm getting better?" I asked him, causing him to stop walking.

When we came to a stop, I turned around to look at him and he looked sad. Sad to answer my question.

"Tell me the truth Steve. The doctors, my mom, Eddie have been telling me I'm improving. Am I not?" I asked him.

"I don't know Leslie. I haven't seen you out of this chair sense the attack. I just know you looked like you were struggling." He answered me.

"Every day is a struggle, but I just have to do it, or I will never walk without assistance again. I'm in high school. I'm not going to be crippled the rest of my life because some interdimensional dogs took a bite out of me." I replied, causing him to chuckle softly.

"Yeah, fuck those dogs." He said as he helped me get into the car.

"Where do you want to go to eat?" He asked once he got in the driver's seat.

"How do you know I'm hungry?" I asked him.

"Your mom was setting the table when I got there. So, I figured you didn't have time to eat." He told me.

"Trust me I'm lucky you got me out of there before I had to pretend to like her meatloaf." I told him.

"Is it that bad?" He asked as he pulled out of the parking spot.

"She's a good cook but I have no idea what she does with her meatloaf. It always tastes like ass." I answered him.

"Then it looks like you lucked out. I know where to go to get the best burgers in town." He smiled as he started to drive down the road.

After a short drive we came to a stop in front of a cute little dinner that looked straight out of a 50's movie.

"Do you eat here all the time?" I asked him.

"I used to when I was younger with my dad but not in a while." He answered.

I felt like there was more to that statement, something he might want to talk about, but I was unable to think of how to approach the topic.

"Well, I'm happy you brought me here." I told him.

"Let me help you out." He said as he hurried out and around to my side of the car.

He opened the back door to reach for my wheelchair, but I stopped him.

"I will not be wheeled in there. I will use my crutches." I told him pointing to them on the floor next to the wheelchair.

"I don't know, you just got those things, do you even know how to use them?" He asked me.

"I am hobbling in there on my own two crutches, and you will not stop me." I told him as I held out my hands for him to give them to me.

"Fine but if you fall, I am laughing at you." He responded.

"As I would expect." I replied.

He helped me out of the car and walked beside me as I got the hang of walking with the crouches. He held the door open for me. The two of us sat down at a booth where I had enough room to rest my leg and keep my crutches out of the way. A nice waitress came and took our order. Steve ordered a double cheeseburger with bacon, and it sounded so good I ordered the same just with no onions because there disgusting. He ordered a root beer float and I a simple coke.