Life in the Shadows

33.

For the past month and a half, I've been walking around with a cast on my foot, and today is finally the day I can get it removed.

I've been buzzing all day for this, and now that I'm sitting in the waiting room, I can't hold my excitement in anymore.

I'm scrolling through Instagram and reading through my comments, to see that someone commented on one of my pictures.

Your cute

I cringed, typing a response. This idiot had the balls to firstly comment on my picture, then use the incorrect word, then not put punctuation at the end of his sentence. Probably a fuckboy.

My cute what?

That's probably why I'm single. I tap my foot, much to Jack's annoyance, in anticipation for my name to be called.

"Margaret Johnson?" the nurse looks around the room, and mom and Jack follow behind me.

"I can tell you're excited," the doctor smiles.

--

"It feels weird to walk normally," I smile, skipping to the car.

"I bet,"

"I'm super excited to shave my legs, too," I laugh, taking a sip of my water.

"God, you're so fuckin' weird," Jack murmurs.

"Language," mom scolds.

"Yeah, don't be rude,"

"Shut it," Jack playfully glares at me.

As we pull into the driveway, I tell mom that I'm going for a run and Jack decides to come with.

"How far?" Jack asks.

"Two miles?"

"Two?" he exclaims. "That's way too much. How about half a mile?"

"If that's what you wanna do," I murmur, taking off.

"Wait!" he calls, sprinting up to me. We run for about twenty minutes and Jack slows down.

"You want me to slow down?" I ask as his breathing picks up.

He nods.

"Do you need an inhaler? I carry one with me,"

He shakes his head. "I'm going to sit down for a minute."

He's wheezing and breathing heavily, and I hand him the inhaler from my sling bag.

"You need it,"

He takes two puffs, and after about five minutes of waiting, his breathing returns to normal.

"We're walking the rest of the way home," I decide.

"I can run," he stubbornly crosses his arms.

"You need to walk, so that's what we're doing," I snap. "I'm not letting you injure yourself,"

He smiles at me as we begin walking.

"What?"

"You look like a baby when you do that,"

"When I'm mad at you?"

"Yeah," he chuckles. "You scrunch up your face and its makes you look so small,"

"Shut the fuck up," I shove him as he laughs at me again. "I don't look like a baby,"

"What do you look like, then, Mags?"

"An angry woman who's gonna punch you in the throat if you don't stop,"

"Noted,"

"It best be,"