If Only

"Complicated Thing"

My eyes opened slowly, blinded by the sunlight that shined through my window. I was still lying in my chair; I fell asleep trying to get Ian out of my mind, which never happened. I didn't know exactly when I fell to sleep, but I knew it was way too early to be up.

I pushed myself up out of the chair, using the armrests as support. I straightened my back, which hurt like hell because I definitely did not sleep in the right position. 

Headache. Sore back. Broken ankle.

Ian. The thought of him filled me with blissful excitement from head to toe.

Goddammit. Stop with this. I'm only making things worse by thinking like this.

The pain came back, shattering the excited shield that protected me from it while thinking of him.

It's not like I didn't think he was cute before or anything. I liked him since before I even met him, when I watched him on YouTube, but not like this. I've never liked anybody like this.

I couldn't get him off of my mind. And I needed to. I loved this job and if I was going to keep it, I would need to find a way to control myself.

As much as I wanted to go to sleep, it was an early day at work, so I had to get going.

I quickly slipped on a white graphic tee and denim straight-leg jeans. After going downstairs, I took a couple ibuprofen for my ankle, back, and head. More like mind. But no drug could fix what was in my mind.

"Sleep well last night, pumpkin?"

I turned to face my dad.

He examined my face, "guess not."

"Do I really look that bad?"

"You're looking a little rough," he smiled.

I sighed.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, "I just need to get to work."

I headed to the door and held my crutch tightly under my right arm as I placed my hand on the doorknob. As I turned it, the bottom of the crutch slipped and I nearly fell to the floor before my mom caught me and lifted me back on my feet. I couldn't wait to get out of these things.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To work," I said a bit confused.

"I'm not letting you drive to work."

"It's my left ankle."

"I don't care, Kate. I'm driving you," she grabbed her purse off of the front table and looked at me stubbornly.

"Fine," I conceded, "you're the one who hates driving."

I grinned at her, and she gave me sarcastic smile back.

"So what's up with you today?" My mom said after a few minutes of driving.

"What do you mean?"

She looked at me knowingly, "c'mon, you look awful."

"Thanks."

"You know what I mean."

I sighed. I was upset that I was even upset. This was just a stupid crush, and I was being a baby about it. Crushes are supposed to be something you get excited and nervous about, not something that makes you so incredibly terrified that you can't even sleep at night.

"Do you ever exhaust yourself by thinking about one thing?"

A smile formed on her face, "who is he?"