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I listen for a minute, and my heart breaks for him. I don’t know why Anna is mad at him, but it sounds as if she’s kicked him out for the time being. Maybe it’s just pregnancy hormones.
I wait until he ends his call, then knock on the door. He looks up and sees me for the first time. His brown hair is messy, and his eyes are red, but he fakes a smile for me.
“Hey, Gracie, it’s late. What’s up?” he asks me, and I shrug.
“I just got home. I overheard a little of that,” I say, pointing at the phone on the bed. “Is everything okay?” He gets to his feet and pulls me into a hug.
“Yeah, just Anna being a tad hormonal. Everything will be good in a few days,” he says dismissively. “You better get to sleep. You have school tomorrow.”
“Yeah, but I can spare a few minutes if you want to talk,” I suggest, and he shakes his head.
“No, honestly, I think I’m going to crash, but thanks.” He won’t look me in the eyes, and I give up.
“Okay, night, Gray.”
The moment I leave his room, he closes the door. Actively shutting me out. I shake my head and shuffle to my room across the hall. Today has been a lot, and I’m ready to pass out. Hopefully, I’ll have a dreamless sleep.
* * *
Ugh,I do not want to go to school today. On top of the bullying, my grades are starting to slip. Due to the constant migraines, I have trouble concentrating on my tablet. Thankfully, everything is digital, so I can study my notes after the headaches subside, but my class participation grade is bringing my average down.
I’m just waiting for someone to notify my parents. That’s just what I need on top of everything else.
“Oh, you poor child. What happened to you?” I step into the nurse's office and plop down on the chair.
“Dodgeball. It’s an evil game,” I mumble as she gets to her feet and grabs an ice pack from the freezer, wraps it in a paper towel, then hands it to me. I place it on my temple and wince at the cold. I should have been paying attention and not daydreaming about King and Dom.
But I mean the clothes they wear for gym class are just not fair. They do not look like seniors in high school. I mean, I guess football helps with that, but all that arm porn…
“Yes, I have told the school board many times that the game should be banned. Keep the ice on for at least twenty minutes, then we will see how it looks. Does your head hurt? Are you dizzy? Nauseous?” the school nurse Maggie asks, and I shake my head.
“No, I think my head is okay. Well, besides all the other damage I’ve done to it, that is,” I grumble, and Maggie laughs.
I met Maggie my first week back. With my migraines, I sometimes have to come here and rest for a little while before I can return to class. I don’t mind, though. She always keeps me company, talks about her children, and is a baker, too. So we enjoy swapping recipes.
She’s super sweet and a nice break from all the negativity swarming me lately.
“Did you eat lunch yet?” she asks as she opens a Tupperware container full of cookies, offering some to me. I give her a smile and take two.
“No, I decided to come here instead. It’s okay. I packed my lunch today. If it’s okay, I’ll just eat here,” I say, and she nods.
“Absolutely, Gracie. You need to eat. You’re too thin in my opinion,” she mumbles as she chews on a cookie. I take a bite of my own and cover my mouth as I groan. The almond and raspberry flavor is incredible.
“This is amazing. You have to give me the recipe,” I say as I devour two more, and she gives me a beaming grin.
“So, have you thought about where you’re wanting to go to school yet? Or what you’d like to do after graduation?” she asks, and I ponder for a few minutes.
“I haven't had much time to think about it, if I’m honest, but maybe something involving children or English. I don't think I could bake for a living; it's just a fun hobby I enjoy."
“I can understand that. I think I, too, would lose the joy if I had to do it every day. I applaud those who become chefs and bakers. I’ve always wondered if they went home and just ordered takeout or ate a frozen TV dinner,” she says with a laugh, and I chuckle with her.
“I would hope that if someone in my family was a world-class chef, they would make me all the amazing dishes. That would just be a perk,” I say as the bell rings. I groan, and she gives me a smile.
“Things will get easier, Gracie. Just give it some time. But I’m here if you ever want a lunch buddy.”
I thank her and grab my bag. My face stings, but not too bad. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a nasty bruise tomorrow.
Dom
