Twisted Turnaround

Chapter 8

ANDREA

It's been a long week for me.

Other than the fact that my head wasn't doing too well these past days, I was stressed because of midterms coming up as well. How was I supposed to pass when it was hard for me to think at times? I've been told to take it easy by my friends, but it was hard to consider so much was riding on my school work. My dad paid for my tuition, and I wasn't going to fail and have it be for nothing. Paying for tuition was a great offer on his part, so the best I could do was make it count.

The shocking thing about this week was that I've been away from Miles. It seemed that ever since that first day of his game, I've been around him all the time. Wherever I turned, I would be forced to be around him. I guess that's not the case anymore considering I'd been taking a break from the journal—correction, I've been staying behind the scenes. I wrote for this week, but I hadn't attended the game. I only wrote what research my team had done. I was surprised to hear that the hockey team almost lost last game. They had won with a few extra points as opposed to what they usually did with.

I've been shocked anyway that Miles hasn't bothered me considering that he had stayed way past his welcome the last time we interacted. He had practically begged for me to allow him to bandage my head, and I remember not wanting to. The reasoning for that was that when we would spend more time together, it would be easier for me to see more sides of him. I didn't really want to belittle him; I already knew that he was a jerk. He used me, and a guy going as far as having a sex with you to do so was an asshole.

I was supposed to stay away from him. It was easier to do that than be extremely close with him. Have him speak to me, staring off with his usual mannner of annoyance and then asking me personal questions. Sometimes I fall for it, but when it ruins the length of the conversation we are having, I shut down. I'm not even supposed to let it be that far. I don't know how I let him stay over at my dorm another night. I thought about how he had been so persistent in taking care of me. And then I thought about how he had read to me all night even though he didn't need to.

Reading to me was the biggest mistake I let the both of us make. I didn't know then that his voice would drive me crazy afterward. He had read to me the whole night, and I had been so mesmerized by his voice. About how soft and honestly at the fact that he could read out loud that well. It was as if I were reading an audiobook. The night hadn't been too easy for me to remember, but when I opened my book the other day to read off it, I couldn't stop hearing his voice.

That was the scary part. About how I let him do something so kind for me. I didn't know anyone who would stay up all night and read to me. It was a moment I wish I could take back and forget. I didn't want to think about Miles.

But that's all I did the last week. It was easy to forget about him, but whenever I'd feel my head shake in an abnormal way, I'd remember how he had hurt me. Or when I would rebandage my head, I'd remember how'd his finger had brushed my forehead ever so softly.

This is why being around him was troubling.

I started to think about him in my moments of weakness.

And Miles didn't deserve to be thought about as nothing other than an asshole.

But hormones were another thing I couldn't—or women, for that matter—control. It was crazy how much time I spent thinking about him when I was better off not to.

I head to Dr. Calloway's office for my appointment a week from the injury. Or a little bit more considering I had to reschedule to study yesterday. I walk down the athletic center and down the empty corridor that leads to her office. I was glad to have chosen this route because the other side of the corridor was filled with a team preceding. I knew what happened the last time I had gone over there during a practice.