Jameson

Chapter 21

AN: Thank you guys so much for the reviews and votes, I love them!!!! Heres a longer chapter. And p.s. I'm not a doctor so if anything is wrong, I'm sorry!

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Little did I know it was about to be the worst weekend I've ever had.

Supper was a complete disaster. I tried being nice, but it was just too hard. Monica I didn't have a problem with.. yet. But her son Preston on the other hand... we just couldn't get along. Just when I think I can maybe stand the guy, he does something or says something to completely piss me off. No matter how hard I tired, I couldn't make it work, not even for Dad.

But we did manage to make it though supper... barely. After we were done eating the plan was to go out for ice cream. Preston and I were going to get the valet to get the car, wile Monica went to the washroom and Dad waited for her. Dad sent us ahead because it would take a bit for them to get the car... it always did. The promise of ice cream was the only thing keeping me from punching Preston where he stood. He kept making little cracks about my friends and me.

The final straw came when he said something awful about my mom. I stopped walking just before the stairs that led down to the main entrance.

"What did you just say?" I asked in a deadly calm voice.

When he repeated it, I lost it. I punched him right in the face.

He staggered back a bit and put his hand to his lip where he was bleeding. Then he took a swing at me. Then it was on. We kept throwing punches at each other. I connected with him more times then he hit me, but for someone so nerdy he could pack a decent punch. I had just landed a particularly hard punch to his gut when it happened. He pushed me and I lost my balance. Just my luck I was right by the stairs.

It was all over really quickly, all I remember is one minute I was on the top of the stairs fighting and the next I was laying on the floor at the bottom with excruciating pain in my left arm.

By the time I realized what happened, there were already like 10 of the restaurant staff around me. I was a big baby and when I was hurt all I wanted was Dad. I looked around hopping to see him. I just wanted him to tell me I was okay and my arm wasn't broken like I suspected. I didn't see him.

"James!" I head the panicked voice of my Dad coming from the top of the stairs. Thank goodness, Dad was here. Everything would be okay.

Yeah I know its childish, but I still liked to think that Dad could make everything better.

In no time at all Dad was there pushing people out of the way to get to me.

"James! James are you okay? James talk to me!" He exclaimed as he finally knelt next to me.

"Dad, my arm hurts," I complained reaching out my good arm to grab his hand.

"Anywhere else?" He asked running his hands over me.

"No, just my arm," I said as I tried to sit up, but was prevented by one of the workers.

"You can't move sir, you might have damaged your back."

"I'm fine it's just my arm," I said pushing him off me.

I sat up and leaned against Dad.

"Here lets get your jacket off so we can look at your arm," one of the employees suggested.

Dad helped me slowly remove my jacket.

At first I wasn't goin to look just in case there was a huge bruise or something. No matter what, it always hurts more once you looked at any injuries.