The Scars She Hides

Part 2 - Damn Coffee

CHARLOTTE

I yanked the privacy curtain back around the bed, and turned to glare at the nurse. My sweater was only half way on, and my shoes were missing. I furiously pulled the sweater into place, and spun around, trying to locate the rest of my stuff. Why the hell was Holden here? Mr. Laid back attitude, only cares about his studies, was here, bringing me juice and oranges? What the hell?

The nurse clicked her tongue at me. "Your grandmother would like you to stay here until she can come pick you up at the end of the day." She informed me. I swung around to face her.

"You can't be serious?" I asked incredulously. The nurse looked at me with eyes full of pity.

"She is worried about the recent... stressors in your life and the accident this afternoon will be upsetting for you. She already called the principal and requested you be pulled from class the rest of the week." The old lady laid her hand on my shoulder, and tried to steer me back to the bed. What she really meant is that my grandmother was worried that I was going to lose my shit because I couldn't handle a hit on the head. I've handled much worse... a spill onto the concrete was hardly going to send me into a spiral.

"I'm not quite that delicate." I snapped at the nurse. I felt a little bad, it wasn't her fault, she was just doing what she was asked to do.I couldn't blame my grandmother for worrying either. Grandfather had turned on a baseball game during dinner the other weekend and I had about vomited my food up. It was clear that specific things were triggering my bouts of anxiety... but a concussion was not one of them. Stuffing my things in my bag, I pushed through the curtain, only to be face to face with Holden. Who was undoubtedly listening to every word we just said. He smiled without a hint of shame, and held out the juice to me. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks, making my face hot. I pushed past him, ignoring his outstretched hand.

"You can inform my grandmother I will see her this weekend, as per usual." I called over my shoulder, and quickly left the room. I couldn't look at either of them a second longer. My face would not cool down, and shame was churning in my stomach. Of course the nurse knew. Why wouldn't she? It was still a hard pill to swallow, that my past was being shared with other people.

How much had Holden really seen? How much had he heard? I rushed outside, and hurried on my way to the dorms. It was the stupid nightmares fault. If I could just get some damn sleep, I wouldn't be like this. I couldn't get him out of my head. He was everywhere I looked. Every blonde head I saw had my muscles locking up in a panic. I felt like he was watching my every move. That particular thought had me almost running into our dorm building, and up the stairs. When I was finally inside of my room, I locked the door and the latch, and shedded every outer article of clothing I had on. I was left in my tank top and skirt. The cool air swept over my sweaty skin, and I let out a relieved breath.

It was the sun's fault too. If it wasn't so damn hot all the time I probably wouldn't have passed out in the middle of the quad. South Carolina was humid and hot, we had our days... but Arizona was a hell on earth. It was so dry all the time, and the heat was different. Meaner.

Laying on my bed, soaking in the AC, my thoughts finally slowed down. It was really my fault today played out like it did. I hadn't been sleeping well, but I also hadn't been eating. Courtesy of the nightmares. How could I eat when all I could feel were his hands on me? When I couldn't get his voice out of my head? Rolling to face the wall, I closed my eyes. I was too tired to eat tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

—----

I woke up with a horrible headache. I had never been hungover, but if this is what it felt like? No thank you.