All The Small Things

164

[Luca POV]
I went to bed in Dady's black sweatpants and a dark blue longesleeve of his that had a band on it. I didn't know who it was, but their design was cool.
"Luca," Dady cooed at me, trying to get my attention. He woke me up a little bit ago to get ready because I had an appointment with Justin, and I was currently getting ready for the day.
"Dady, my head hurts," I whined, setting my toothbrush down.
"I'm getting your icepack in a second. Do you want medicine?" He asked, gently running his fingers through my hair to see where I hit my head.
"Yeah..." I whispered.
"You've got blood in your hair," Jacob mumbled. "Do you wanna shower?" He asked, making me pout.
"Is gonna be cold after... An my hairs gonna be wet," I whined.
"Can you just take a really quick one with Dady?" He asked, rubbing my back.
"Okay..." I reluctantly agreed.

The shower went okay, but I didn't like it today. It was freezing after I got out, and my wet hair was touching my back, and my boxers felt gross.
"I don want!" I told Dady, pulling my boxers away from me and trying not to freak the fuck out.
"Babe, you have to wear them," He told me, sitting on the bed next to me.
"Dady, fix it!" I cried, starting to get actually upset over he way they felt. He didn't answer for a second, likely because he was trying to keep himself from shouting. But during that second, I physically couldn't deal with it. I felt like I was about to scream. So, I quickly stripped them off and instantly started crying.

"Bug, you have to wear some kind of boxers," Dady softly told me. "Let me see if you have any different ones," He slid off the bed and started rifling through my drawer, checking tags often. He eventually tossed a pair that was just plain black next to me. He didn't shut my drawer yet and just started dressing me in them. They felt better, but I was still crying. I was just kinda feeling emotional.
"Dady, 'm sorry..." I whispered. I don't like being this difficult. I really don't. I wish I could just be normal.
"Don't be sorry, baby. I get that they feel icky sometimes. Do you need help getting your other clothes on?" He asked, making me nod a little, but quickly get reminded not to do that right now.

Dady made me hold an ice pack on my head for the drive to Justin's, and I tried not to complain. I really didn't wanna go to therapy. But, I got taken anyway. I had to go in all by myself and wait until Justin came and took me back.
"Hey. Jacob told me something happened to your head yesterday," He said after we both sat down.
"Um, yeah. I have a... um..." I said, racking my brain for the word of what's wrong with my head.
"Concussion?" Justin asked.
"Yeah, a concussion. But it's just a little one," I agreed. I didn't even know if that was the right word, but I'll take Justin's word for it.
"What happened to your head?" He continued to ask.
"Kayden hit my head off the concrete," I bluntly explained, trying to stay vague as I could.

"Hey, we can cut this one early if you need to," He offered almost half an hour later. I had developed a migraine and currently wanted to go to bed.
"Okay..." I whispered, standing up and instantly having my vision black out.
"Holy shit," I mumbled, blinking as a way to try and get it to come back.
"You alright?" Justin asked.
"Yeah, my vision just goes away sometimes when I stand up," I assured him, seeing the black start to fade and colorful spots in its place.
"Before you go, though. I want you to try journaling," He said, digging through his desk drawers for a second before handing me a little journal. It was plain green on the cover, and the entire inside was just lined paper. I reflexively scrunched my nose at it, trying to keep my thoughts to myself.

"I know it sounds stupid, but just try it. Write down how you feel every day, and in a week or so, we can go through it together. Okay?" Justin said. I quietly agreed, thinking to myself that this was the dumbest thing ever. And if we're going through it, should I be honest? Or should I just tone down everything I'd write? Like, if I felt like I was gonna fuckung explode because of the way my socks feel, should I just keep that to myself? Or should I be completely honest in it. Whatever. I'll decide later. I told him bye and walked out to the truck, instantly putting the icepack back on my head. It wasn't super frozen anymore. It was more slushy. But it was still cold and made my head feel a little better.
"How's your head feeling?" Jacob asked at the first red light we hit. I just shrugged and rested my head on the window.