Texting Prince Charming

Chapter 2(pt. 1)

This chapter was a little long so it's broken up into two parts...Enjoy. ;)

(Edited)

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I sat on the bed with a mirror held close to my face, admiring the last round of plastic surgery. There was still a small scar on my right cheek. It had left me with some residual redness and puffiness from the incision, but unless someone was looking close, hopefully they couldn't tell.

Here it was the end of September, and after a six-month absence, I would return tomorrow to the halls of Patterson High for the start of my senior year. For previous first days, I would have tried my hair in numerous styles and practiced for hours the right look for my makeup. Let alone in full panic mode with struggling to choose the perfect trendsetting outfit.

Instead, my attire would consist of me looking like a hobo in sweatpants and a hoodie.

Glamorous, I know.

But I had more pressing issues to deal with today. Like Aunt Sarah's silly decision to have us rushing to move into our new house. Especially the day before I started back to school and her first day of work. Only it wasn't her fault. That was all mine.

"Not bad," I murmured.

Aunt Sarah peeked her head through the doorway, holding a box still needed unpacking. "Did you say something, Shelby?"

To keep her from noticing, I tucked the mirror under a pillow. "No, I was just..." My voice trailed off while glancing around the room. "Watching this movie. That's what you heard."

She set the box on a nearby chair and gazed at the screen. "Oh, is this?" She snapped her fingers and clenched her hazel eyes, alerting me that she had no idea of the movie's title.

"The Princess Bride," I answered and therefore saved her those extra brain cells she would lose from thinking too hard. Today was hard enough for everyone, and it wasn't like I could help anyway, so might as well have contributed in whatever small ways I could. "It's one of my favorites."

Sarah passed me my nightly meds and a glass of water from the nightstand. These three pills were supposed to help with my myriad of issues. A yellow round one for PTSD. Another the size of a horse to manage my depression. But my favorite was the tiny white tablet that lessened my anxiety—Xanax.

"Still want to be a princess when you grow up, huh?" she joked.

To make her happy, I swallowed the three pills without complaint and lifted the remains of my left leg. My stump had finally healed after all the surgeries but still looked hideous. "Well, I don't know if that's quite in the stars for me anymore."

My best friend, Trina Larson shoved the door open while carrying two boxes labeled Shelby's room. Since meeting at cheer camp the summer before freshman year, we had been inseparable ever since. Although, almost everything about us was a complete contradiction of each other. I was tallish while she's short, like really short. My hair was long and strawberry blonde, and sometimes wavy depending on the humidity level here in the Midwest.

Whereas by the looks of Trina's new black, choppy, chin-length hairdo, she must have reconsidered the whole long auburn trend. We both had almost the same shade of green colored eyes and skin tones fairing of the easily burnable kind. Only that didn't stop us from staying somewhat tanned by unnatural means.

I excelled at academics, except math or anything remotely related to math. Trina dominated everything physical and the little ninja had the tendency to emasculate every guy she met. Well besides her boyfriend, Owen. But that was different, they were in love and apparently one of the few successful high school relationships that would endure past the halls of Patterson High. What she had with him, still gave me hope.

"This way, boys," Trina called to the other occupants in the hall. Probably commanding a whole pack of them knowing her.

Each member of the varsity basketball team piled into my bedroom. I panicked and flipped a blanket over my left leg to hide it. Along with my Little Mermaid bed sheets that no one needed to see.

"How does one person have this much crap?" Owen Clark muttered as he set three boxes on the ground.

Someone chuckled in the hallway behind him. "You're forgetting who we're talking about here." Sebastian Birch ducked under the doorframe and flashed me a cocky smile. "The great Shelby Ryan." His comment garnered a few snickers.

I rolled my eyes at my somewhat archenemy; the gray-eyed, goldy-brown locked giant that loved to do anything and everything to get under my skin. "Who invited you again?"

He plunked the boxes and bags that he held on top of my dresser. Everyone in the room exited past him to retrieve more of my crap. "Oh, I don't see you jumping up to help, so." He waved a hand toward me. "By all means."

"Ha, ha, ha." I played it off like his comment didn't bother me, because it truly didn't. If it were anyone other than Sebastian, it would have probably stung. From him, I expected nothing less.

It would have been stupid to assume because I had my left leg amputated below the knee that he would have somehow shown any pity or sympathy whatsoever. That wasn't Sebastian, and I respected him for not treating me like I was some cripple damaged beyond repair. The only compassion he showed me was when he came to the hospital every day to visit me. But thinking back on it, maybe it was just his way of torturing me with his presence when I wasn't coherent enough to put up a fight. One of the more intolerable side effects from the symphony of drugs the doctors used to keep my pain at bay.

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