I have three basic rules to live by
Don't draw attention to myself.
Make it through another year.
My brother's friends are off limits.
My junior year, each and every single one of those rules will be broken.
**~~**
Blaine has always been the type to...
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The bright lights overhead made my eyes squeeze shut again. The sudden burst of pain from both made wince which only added to the sting. I brought my hand up to rub at my temple and felt a tug on my palm.Forcing one eye to crack open, I searched for the reason. Under gauze and tape could only be a needle judging by the small tube protruding from beneath the wrapping.
Carefully raising my hand, now knowing of the I.V., my fingers grazed my cheek and stopped when it contacted another tube. Tracing over it in one direction, I found it hooked around my ear. I followed it back to where it was nestled between my nose and upper lip. It was then that I noticed that I was sitting slightly up and the room around me was a dingy white. There was a single window with blinds twisted shut.
My muscles were stiff as I shifted on the uncomfortable bed. Another wave of pain rocked my brain and the fingers on my freed hand curled around the rail.The pain continued as I tried to remember what brought me here. The rough sheets and tightly knitted blanket should have been enough for me to know where I was. Instead, I figured it out from the damn I.V. and oxygen tube. There go my observation skills again.
"Blaine?" The faint, familiar feminine voice was joined by a hand wrapping around mine on the rail. Out of instinct, I recoiled. That voice was from my childhood. A ghost in the flesh meeting my strained gaze. "Thank God you're awake. Henry."
The door at the other end of the room opened and my father strolled in. Lucas was hot on his heels with an expression he only wore during a game. When he saw me blinking at him dumbly, relief washed away the anger. He stalked over to the side of my bed. The opposite side of our parents who were now standing like they were posing for a portrait. My brother's hand rested on my shoulder then slid to my hand attached to the tube pushing fluids. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze.
"Welcome back, Lainey. Did you sleep well?" There was a hint of tease with the question. The relief from earlier remained in his eyes as a carefree smile was forced onto his face.
"How can you stand there smiling?" Our attention turned to the woman with a scowl growing deeper on her face. "Making jokes as if this wasn't a serious injury. She was unconscious and has a severe concussion."
"Luke?" My throat was scratchy as I tried to speak for the first time in what felt like days. Reaching toward the tray positioned over the end of my bed, Lucas grabbed the hideous pink plastic cup and offered it to me. He didn't hand it over, treating me like a child that needed assistance. My fingers curled around the cup as the other smacked his hand away. The water felt amazing as it coated my mouth and soothed the dryness of my throat. "What happened?"
"You got hurt at the game," my mother spat. "A game you shouldn't have been playing in the first place."
"Lucas," I growled ignoring the woman, "What happened?"
"You took the ball down the field and got tag teamed. Two blockers went after you. One was holding you back and taking you down when his buddy aimed for your side. You knocked your head a few times."
