Happy Endings Don't Exist...Do They?

Chapter 5: Sick Day

I end up waking up a couple hours after I passed out, pain radiating all over my body, making it impossible for me to go back to sleep. Around 5 am I hear the front door open and slam shut, a car starts and pulls out onto the street, then silence. He left. I wait.

By 6:30 he still isn't back. I sag into my bed relieved, not sure how long he is going to be gone I try to get up...and fail. Gasping at the pain that is currently overtaking my body, this is definitely the worse I have been in a long time. Soon the pain drops to a more manageable level and I try again to get up, this time more slowly. I actually manage to make it to my feet and shuffle to the bathroom where I promptly take three Advil.

I turn on the water for the shower, wait for it to warm, then stepped in. Taking a shower was rough; the water hurt and soothed my muscles with equal measure. By the time I dried off and got dressed it was already 7:45. Based on the way my face looked like it went ten rounds with dump truck, my body feels like it went twelve, I made the executive decision to take a sick day. So, I call the school to excuse myself, set my alarm, locked my door and went back to bed.

Waking up the second time was no better than the first. Moving still sent waves of pain through my body, knowing better this time I slowly got up and went to the bathroom to get more Advil. Slowly I made my way downstairs and started preparing dinner, making sure this time to place it in a warmer before setting it on the counter. I grabbed two slices of bread for me to eat before heading back up to my room, not daring to take more than that. I grab two more Advil tablets and place them by my bed for tomorrow before scarfing down my bread slices. I debated changing clothes but decided against it before I turned off the lights and falling back to sleep.

Beep.

I silently groaned, not wanting to get up. I rolled over to grab the pills I laid out the night before and took them dry. As I stood up I noticed the pain had lessened significantly. Granted it was still there and it still hurt but not enough to stop me from getting around school today. It would hurt a lot but I could do it. So, I went through my morning routine, wash face, teeth etc. Got dressed in my jeans and tee, added a hoodie to hide the bruises on my upper arm. My face surprisingly wasn't that bad just a small bruise around the cut from the plate, easily enough to hide with my hair. I head down stairs taking care to be quiet as always and made breakfast placing it in the warmer. As I cleaned up both breakfast and dishes from dinner I took a risk and ate an apple taking the core with me to throw out on the way to school.

By the time I got to school my back was killing me. I emptied out most of the items in my book bag, placing only the things I needed in there to try and lessen the load. Walking into first period I notice the desk are placed together in groups of two. Crap. I forgot about the group project. I go to lay my head down on my desk feeling the muscles in my back protest the position by shooting pain throughout my body. I sat back up, just in time for to see Micah to walk into the room.

Ahgh.

Kill me please or better yet kill the person who makes group projects a thing. "Hello partner." Micah greets me eagerly. Holy crap I am paired with a morning person. I huff in annoyance. Why must we continue with the farce? The bell rings and Ms. Lucas tells us we are taking the day to work on our projects so work.

"What part do you want to work on today?" Micah asks me. I shrug knowing it doesn't matter. "Well how about..." I zone out at this point. Trying to figure what angle he is trying to pull. I think back to freshman year when Alana, one of Rose's minions, pretended to be my friend for weeks before taking everything I told her, which wasn't much but enough to hurt, told Rose who then used it to humiliate me in front of the whole school.

I come back to the present wondering if maybe that is what he is trying to do; pretending to be nice in order to humiliate me, or worse. Micah interrupts my train of thought, "Aryn?" I stare at him. "Are going to help me with this?" he asks pointing to the paper with two sentences written on it. I rummage into my backpack and take out a piece of paper; the whole page filled with sentences, and set it on his desk. Micah looks over the paper, brows furrowed. "This is the whole project," Micah starts, "This is supposed to be a group project. Why did you do it all?" He finishes confused. I just shrug, grabbing my paper back as the bell rings.

Shouldering my bag, mindful of my sore back I start to walk out of the classroom. I look back at Micah still sitting in his desk with his brows furrowed like he is thinking hard. I sigh. This one is a really good pretender I think. I vowed not to fall for Micah Wade or his tricks, ever.

No matter how nice he may seem to be when it is all over it might just break me.