Ruin .(9)

    Chapter Five





    Living is hard — dying is easy. You close your eyes and never open them up again. What’s so difficult about that? Nothing really — except it hurts like hell to those you leave behind.





    Weston

    I should have let well enough alone. My doctor would have told me I was playing with things I should just forget about. After all, he’d say, how much time do you have? I was damn sick of hearing him say that. Ridiculous. Even my dad was tired of the doctors. Then again, I was tired of them when I was eight and was told my mom wasn’t going to make it through surgery.

    And again last year, at the hospital when my brother didn’t wake up from his… situation. Some people believe our family was cursed. After all, you can’t have as much power and money that we do and not suffer the consequences. When I was little, my Sunday School teacher told me that sometimes tragedy happened in order to keep us relying on God.

    How much more trusting does God need me to be? I mean, I’d lost everything, and last year almost lost my reputation and football career, all because I said no. Funny, nobody ever talks about guys being taken advantage of.

    I gripped the phone in my hands. I had her number. How creepy was I? Seriously. I hacked the school system and pulled her number from it. The poor girl already thought I was stalking her, probably wouldn’t help my case if I suddenly called her up and said, “Hey.” Loser. I was an absolute loser. I’d never had trouble getting girls, in fact, I felt a bit gun shy after last year.

    My entourage helped.

    I only called them that because it made it sound so much cooler than it really was. A knock sounded on the door. I got up but it opened before I had a chance. David strolled in, all three hundred pounds of him, and threw my prescription on the table. “How’s it going?”

    “Fantastic,” I lied, and quickly hid the piece of paper I’d written Kiersten’s number on.

    “You feeling okay?” David leaned forward and pointed the flashlight in my eyes, like some sort of scientist. I slapped it away.

    “Fine.” I cleared my throat and stood. For a brief moment I felt dizzy; that’s what I got for standing up too fast. “Where’s James?”

    “Out.” David sighed as if he was tired of me asking a million questions. “He’ll be back to walk you to practice. You can walk, right?”

    I rolled my eyes. “I can walk. It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”

    “You stood up too fast,” he said to himself, then pulled out his notepad and wrote a few things down. “Have you been feeling dizzy lately? Out of breath?”

    Hmm, did meeting a new girl that took my breath away count? How about being dizzy from her perfume? What would David have to say about that?

    “My dad pays you to keep me sane, not nurse me.” I scowled.

    David’s eyes narrowed. “You look pale.”

    “Shit.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “Can I please have one normal moment? Just one, where you aren’t scribbling on your damn notepad and we aren’t discussing my father or money or my future or—”

    David held up his hand. “Got it. Sorry, Wes.”

    I felt bad. But at the same time I was irritated all over again. I’d been on edge for months now, and I knew me snapping at David was just going to be another thing he documented when my father asked for his report.

    He around the dorm. “Your room looks nice.”

    “No small talk.” I laughed. “My room looks exactly how it’s supposed to, clean and approachable. I am an RA you know.”

    “Yes, and I’m the queen,” David said dryly.

    “Right.” I grabbed my keys and phone. “We’re going to a party tonight.”

    “We?” His eyebrows lifted.

    “Yes, we. You, James, and myself. I need to meet the rest of the students in my dorm and I can’t do that if I hole up in my room like some sick—” The words died in my throat. I bit down on my lower lip and allowed the dizziness to pass again. “I’m going to go work out.”

    “Should you be—”

    “It’s all I have,” I snapped again. “I’m not quitting football too, David. Write it down in your little notepad and tell that to my dad. My career is football. I’m too damn good to give it up. The only reason I stayed in college this long was to make everyone happy, but now that—” Again the words faded out. I didn’t want to finish the sentence, instead, I shook my head at David.