Chapter XIIII

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I. Was. Starting. To. Like. Adrian. Ivashkov. 

It was contagious. I groaned. What had become of me? I was supposed to be clean-cut, neat, prim and proper Emma. I wasn't supposed to be someone who just went along with the flow and actually acted friendly to a player. And now, I wasn't just being nice to him because I had to for Dante, I was being nice because...because...because I liked Adrian Ivashkov.

"Emma, we should really get you to a hospital," I heard Wesley say when Adrian was carrying me out of the doorway. "You can't have Ivashkov hauling you around like that forever," he said. Sometimes I wondered why Ashley ever fell for Wesley. I liked having a manservant.

"Good idea," I said, despite my warring thoughts. I needed a cast and some crutches. Some bed rest would be great, but I wasn't sure if I could do that. School wouldn't be in session until it was rebuilt and I really didn't have anyone waiting for me back home. Bed rest sounded great. 

Except I would be paying for the hospital bill.

"Except how are we gonna get there?" I asked. Adrian was still carrying me, and now, I was starting to think it was more than a little weird. It had been nice at first, but, it was getting creepy, even though I was secretly enjoying it. 

"Taxi, anyone?" Adrian asked, and chuckled. "You still have money on you," he said, and stuck out his tongue at me.

"Money I would like to save," I replied. Everybody else here needed a ride home too. It looked weird when a bunch of students were crowding around a phone booth in the middle of a school year. Everybody needed to go home. I knew parents who had been worried sick during these past days. I just had to wonder why it took so long for the Strigoi to turn them. Did they have another motive? Or was the whole slow torture thing their new game? I didn't know.

"Everybody's parents should be here soon," Wesley replied, taking charge as the leader. "Adrian, you take Emma to the hospital, we'll be fine," he said, smiling proudly. Lazars. They really did love being on top. It annoyed me sometimes, but, I guess it was kinda cool when you couldn't do it yourself.

"Why does he have to take me to the hospital?" I asked. "I can take a cab and go myself. It's no big deal," I said curtly. I was used to taking care of myself and I hated depending on people because they always just left you in your time of need.

"Emma, your leg is broken," Adrian said, making eye contact with me as well as enunciating the word broken. "Seriously, you need help. Don't try to act ll high and mighty at a time like this," he said, and shook his head. 

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So, here I was. My cast was an electric blue. According to Adrian, it added color into my boring personality. But according to me, it would just make it difficult for me to read signatures. I owned a black sharpie, not a white one, and trust me, black on deep electric blue was nearly unreadable.

Adrian helped me get used to my crutches and I finally felt like my old self again. Independent. 

"Do you like pickles?" Adrian asked me, puffing on his cigar as we left the hospital. 

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