Match Me

Chapter Eight: And Shit Hit The Fan

Chapter Eight: And Shit Hit The Fan

"Hey, hey!" Someone slaps me on the face repeatedly, only adding to the crushing pain I feel. "Hey, what's your name? Please tell me your name."

The pounding in my head won't stop, insisting on pummeling me like a jackhammer, giving me a headache on top of the rest of the stinging pain in one of my hands. The world is a blur, a blur of reds, purples and whites. I very faintly register the sour taste in my mouth, but the agony overrules it all.

The dumb person slapping my face is an asshole, that much I can tell.

I try to open my mouth to tell him to quit it, but my brain just won't register the movement.

My eyelids flutter shut, and the world goes pink before everything transitions to a solid, numbing black.

XOXO

After being released from the hospital, (only Autumn cared enough to sit and wait for me to wake up - thanks Mom and Dad), I was told to go to school directly afterwards.

Even though, you know, I have a cast over my right hand and suffered minor fractures to my middle finger and wrist.

Now not only will I be unable to flip people off with my right hand, I won't be able to do the solo after all. Because every band instrument requires to able-working hands.

I won't even be able to participate in the Winter Festival, which seriously sucks ass.

So I'm not in a bubbles and sunshine sort of mood today. Actually, I was so pissed off and horrible at the hospital, I was surprised they followed my parent's instructions to tell me to go to school.

I mean, do they want to inflict the wrath of an upset Ember onto the seven hundred students at my school?

At least it would get me away from them, I guess.

"You're in band class," Autumn says as she pulls into the student parking lot. She pats me on the shoulder as I sit there, staring emotionlessly at the healthy green fields and the sky that looked as if it could have been a painting, with fluffy clouds like marshmallows in the air.

"If you need me, you know where I'll be. God knows you're the equivalent of a CSI agent with your stalking skills." She jokes, but I don't have if in me to laugh. Her forehead creases as she lets out a heavy sigh. She pushes open the door to the maroon SUV and hops out, coming over to my side to persuade me to get out of my moping state.

"Come on Ember! I've had up to here with your depressing shit, lift your bum off those seats or I'll lock you in here with the heat cranked up." Autumn threatens, her hands on her tiny hips. When she realizes it's not going to work, she juts her bottom lip out, giving me the big brown owl-eyes I fall for every time.

"Fine," I grumble, swinging my legs out of the car, letting my blue Converse hit the cement in a loud thunk.

She stares at me expectantly when I just stand there. "You're being ridiculous. You lost the function of your hand, last time I checked, you could still walk. So use those skinny little chicken legs of yours and haul your ass down to the band room."

I comply with her orders, walking like a zombie towards the school. Why does the school have to be so beautifully blue and the outside infuriatingly gorgeous on a day so bleak?

xox

"Ember! What happened?" Asked every single person I know. Varying facial expressions accompanied their shocked tones and wide-eyes.

Some, like Willa Camerons, looked content and smug, her voice oozed concern as fake as a Barbie. Then some of them looked genuinely surprised and concerned, which was sweet, but also a little annoying once it got said thousands of times.