What If

Chapter 34

Not letting my bashed-in head go for even a second, Paul practically carried me back to my house. I was wobbling and swaying like a wasted drunkard. The only things keeping me from falling flat on my face were Paul's arms around my torso. My vision was blurry and the world was spinning and shifting before my eyes. John must've hit me really hard.

I remember asking Paul what he was doing there in the first place. He had said something about his dad asking him to go grocery shopping. I don't remember his exact words. Everything was a little fuzzy.

When we got home, he opened my front door where I stumbled in, nearly tripping on the slight rise in elevation leading into my house. My mother, seeing the horrible state I was in, immediately rushed to my side, asking question after question about what had happened. Paul explained to her very calmly the whole story, basically about John being a big jerk. Paul told her he would take me up to my room and help me lie down while she got me an ice pack.

Paul helped me up the stairs, which was much more of a struggle than either of us really imagined. He finally got me to my room, where I just flopped on the bed like I was dead, then begrudgingly rolled over onto my back and shifted to the most comfortable position I could squiggle myself into.

Paul wouldn't stop looking at me worriedly. Now that I was lying down and remaining still, the world started coming back to together somewhat clearly. I got a better look at his face. He had three big, brown bruises on his face, a split lip, and what looked like it could be the beginning of a black eye. He didn't pay attention to any of his injuries though, he was only concerned about mine. He cupped my good cheek with his left hand and with his right he moved mine that I had held over the spot where John hit me. He examined my forming contusion, lightly stroking it with his thumb.

"That's a nasty bruise ya got there," he said softly. Then his eyes went from looking at my cheek to looking into my eyes. "How're ya feeling?"

"Dizzy," I answered, my eyesight still fighting to come into focus. "I'm starting to get a bit of a headache." I turned to look at his hand still holding mine.

He saw me looking and quickly dropped it, instead his fingers brushing a few hairs off of my forehead, playing mindlessly with the strands as he spoke. "I still need to get my dad his groceries. I'll be back as soon as I'm done. I promise."

I nodded, regretting doing so immediately because of the re-swirling of my vision. Paul gave me a small smile and stood up, continuing to look at me to make sure I was okay until he was out of the room completely.

While he was gone, my mom came up and gave me an ice pack, which never left the side of my head since the moment I got it. I was able to take a refreshing nap for an hour, exactly what I needed. I still wasn't emotionally well, but right now I was even less physically well.

"Colleen," a voice whispered, lightly shaking my arm. I jolted awake to see Paul sitting on my bed again, staring down at me like he was before. My eyesight was fully clear again, but my head was pounding. "How're you feelin'?"

"Like shit," I whispered back. He grinned and gently petted the top of my head, looking at the ice pack that had managed to remain on my cheek. "Listen, Paul, I don't wanna come between you and John. I want you two to make up. You're best friends and I'm not worth it. Trust me."

He smiled sweetly and said "I don't think John and I will hate each other for long. Something much worse would have to happen for us to no longer be friends." He chuckled and laid fully down on my bed. "He's just mad because he's been rejected. Not that I'm not surprised that you did. John's the one all the ladies go for. But you rejected me too, so I'm not as surprised as I would normally be, I suppose."