I block out what they say next, unwilling to let his words affect me. I look at the clock on my bedside table. It’s just after seven in the morning.
I take a deep breath.
I’m okay.
I will get through this.
You’re strong, Isa.
I take another deep, shuddering breath. “You’re strong like Mom,” I whisper to myself. Mom died. My boyfriend cheated. My boyfriend dumped me. My best girlfriend turned her back on me. I lost my home. I had to go to a new school in a new town. I lost my Pack. My dad never has time for me. I was attacked at school. I was almost ki…
I force myself to finish the thought.
I was almostkilled.
I’d been through so much in such a short amount of time. But it was done. Over. Finished. All of it had already happened. No way will I survive all that only to give up now.
Natalia’s voice rises again. There’s mention of the Pack.
I don’t know what Brian says in response, but I can tell by Natalia’s tone that she doesn’t agree.
That’s okay.
I’m okay.
Or at least, I will be. Time heals all wounds, right? That’s what all the inspirational quotes and memes say.
The day I arrived at Hellbound High I told myself all I needed to do was survive this year, graduate, and then I could go home. Back to my Pack.
That is still the plan. I can go home. Things will be better once I’m back in Star Valley, Arizona. There won’t be a school full of people who hate me. There won’t be vampires lurking around corners, hurting me for no other reason than because they can. I’ll be protected there. Safe. I just have to survive here a little bit longer.
Letting that resolve settle inside of me, I force myself from the bed. My feet wobble but I manage to remain standing. I hobble to the shower, leaving my crutch beside my bed because it hasn’t been much help to begin with. I put weight on my cast, and when no sharp stab of pain follows, I release a relieved breath and head toward the bathroom.
Inside, I sit on the edge of the tub and contemplate my cast. I’m tired of feeling inferior. Flexing my leg, I twist it side to side before coming to a decision. My shoulder has healed. My leg probably has by now too.
Shifting my hand, I drag my clawed fingers down the side of the cast on either side before prying the plaster open. It falls to the ground with a loud thud and I survey my bare leg.
It’s still bruised but—I roll my ankle and flex my calf muscle—it feels okay. Shoving back to my feet, I tentatively press down. A zing of pain spears up to my hip but my leg doesn’t buckle.
I turn on the shower, fighting past a wave of dizziness as I climb in and lean against the cool tile wall, letting the scalding spray chase away my fevered chill.
I spend thirty minutes in the shower before getting out and drying off. I don’t think anything is still broken. I feel whole. Battered and bruised, but I can live with that. My bones creak like a ninety-year-old woman, but the shower did wonders for me.
I almost feel like a new person. My fever has relented some. I’m definitely not at one hundred percent, but I feel better, my head no longer spinning and the pain receding to a dull throb.
There’s a knock on my door and before I can answer, it swings open.
Natalia walks in to find me sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in a towel.
“You’re up?” she asks, sounding surprised.
“Yeah.” I stand and reach for my clothes. A pair of sweats and the oversized hoodie I picked up from my shopping trip with Zheng.
“Oh, umm…” she mutters before turning around. I roll my eyes but gingerly put on my clothes before wrapping my long brown hair in the towel and resuming my seat.
“You can turn around now,” I tell her.
Natalia frowns when she sees my outfit, but thankfully doesn’t comment. “Were you going to go to school today?” she asks.
