Pack Warrior [EDITING]

Chapter 13

Monday morning seemed to catch up with me pretty fast. I groaned getting up, not wanting to deal with school. I would have to spend the whole day with my stupid arm in a sling, not able to write of do anything. I paused.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.

I dragged myself out of bed. I couldn't be bothered to shower this morning, knowing it would be too much effort to wrap my arm in plastic. Instead, I stumbled to my wardrobe and just sighed. Stupid school.

I grabbed a pair of black distressed jeans, pairing it with a purple tank top. I left my hair down, just managing to pull a brush through it. It was still a mess of brown curls, but I didn't care. I looked at my appearance in the mirror, groaning as I noticed the bruise around my nose hadn't faded. Like I really needed anything else to go wrong.

I put on my black converse, grabbed my brown messenger bag and stuffed my iPod, phone and keys in.

I walked downstairs slowly, dragging my feet. Others passed me quickly, and I only grunted. This was apparently very funny.

I had spent most of Sunday chilling around the pack house. My training plans, with both James and with the pack warriors, was put on hold until my arm had healed. It had been pretty boring, trying to entertain myself.

I watched dozens of movies, and chatted to all the pack members that wondered into the living room. I was finally about to give up on my sanity when I walked into the kitchen and found Damien trying to do my chores. Apparently he had never cooked before.

After spending an hour with him, teaching him how to make spagetti (the easiest thing we could do an hour before dinner) and when we were done, I had laughed myself silly. He was hopeless at cooking. He had added too much salt to the sauce, took the pasta off the ring within seconds of it actually starting to boil, and almost burnt the garlic bread. A chef he was not.

But today was Monday.

I trudged into the kitchen and waved hello to my mom and Clara. I slumped in my stool, resting my head on my hand and trying to wake up. I didn't know what was going on with me recently, but sleep was becoming a serious issue.

"Good morning love." My mom's cheery voice made my head hurt, but I just smiled. I would definitely need some aspirin to get through this. She then place a plate of pancakes, bacon and scrambled egg in front of me. My favourite. 

I smiled for real now. "Thanks mom." I took a bit, and then happily dug in. I looked up halfway through my plate when Damien walked in with a blue stain down his white t shirt. Our mother's didn't even notice, but I raised my eyebrows.

"I tried to put on some washing. I wasn't exactly looking while I poured detergent into the cap. Now I need to change." He grumbled as he walked passed. I snickered and he shot me a look.

I finished my breakfast realising that I was going to be late if I didn't leave and headed outside to my car. But I stopped in my tracks when I saw Damien throwing a hissy fit. He was jumping up and down, stomping his foot and swearing. Lots of swearing.

I just stared at him. "Are you okay? Or do you have like, ants literally in  your pants?" 

He whipped around to look at me. He looked kinda annoyed. "He took my car. My car. The car I built. With my own two hands. Its not like he even paid for it. That car belongs to me and he took it. And everyone else is already at school. And he took it."

I watched, fearing for my own safety around the lunatic. "Dude, you need to calm down, because you are scaring me." 

He stopped, breathing deeply. "Yeah, I know. Its just not been the perfect day or anything. I was woken at 6 this morning, because apparently you were always up before that. I had to stumble down stairs, clean the kitchen, try and help with breakfast, fail to help with breakfast and then get sent to laundry duty. And I failed at that too." He put his hands over his face. "How did you do it Emmy?"