Deciding on You || a.i. (Book 2)

26 | Maddie

School is harder than it used to be. Precalculus is a foreign language I haven't begun to translate, and the letters and numbers blur together on the page. I can't believe I was ever good at learning; what was once at the forefront of my mind is now hardly a thought.

I scratch my shoulder and look around the living room. Cooper, Ashton, and Michael all sit with their own homework in their laps and seem to be doing just fine. I used to be better than them at this. I used to be in the top of my class.

The problem I've been working on hasn't even started making sense in the last twenty minutes. It's as if it's all in Spanish, and I took French.

"Do you guys think that dogs know what we're saying?" I erase the problem for the fourth time and wipe the eraser shavings away. "Like, they know English but just don't have the ability to talk?"

"If you ate my pot brownie, you're dead," Cooper deadpans without looking up from what he's writing.

"Mad, focus," Ashton says softly. He and my brother have been mumbling to each other about Statistics, but have ultimately solved each problem.

I huff and sit back on the couch. "I can't focus anymore. Nothing makes sense and I'm getting a headache."

"Just keep trying," he gives me a crooked smile, "You'll get it."

He goes back to typing something into his calculator and I groan. It has been nearly silent in this room for at least an hour and I'm going insane. Being able to check the answer key and know when I'm wrong isn't helping.

"I'm taking a break," I say, moving my book to the side and standing up. All three of them look up at me and, without hesitation, stop what they're doing too.

Their gazes follow me as I quickly walk to the kitchen. Once I'm not the object of everyone's attention, I lean against the counter and take a deep breath.

I understand most of the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder. I understand why I have nightmares and why I'm only okay with a select few people touching me. I even understand why I went from being outgoing to the most introverted person there is.

What I don't understand is why I'm suddenly incapable of thinking about anything complex. When I was a freshman, I had a 98.7% in my Algebra class. Even when I didn't study, I'd get straight A's. Now I can hardly keep a C.

Ashton wants to say that it's not the case, but it really feels like Ethan took everything from me.

After regaining my composure, I return to the living room with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon. Ashton watches me with a grin on his face as I take a bite.

"It's been a while since I've seen you do that," he says, chuckling.

"It's brain food," I say with my mouth full. As if peanut butter is going to help.

On the opposite end of the couch, Michael is incessantly scratching at his neck and upper arms. I watch him with the spoon in my mouth and he grumbles to himself for a while before he turns to me.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into going hiking," he says. His already sunburned skin turns even redder as he continues to itch. "I'm going to die if you keep this up."

"I didn't talk you into it," I say, wiggling my eyebrows, and he sighs.

For the past two weeks, Reagan has been trying her hardest to get my mind off of Ethan's threat as much as possible. We've hiked twice, gone to the aquarium, and even went to the creek to try and catch some frogs.

Every single time, though, Reagan makes sure to invite Michael and Ashton. Ashton then invites Cooper, who invites Calum, and then we all go together. Every single time.