Alex's (POV)
I slowly blink my eyes open, dark blue walls meeting my hazy gaze.
My room.
Did I just sleep a whole night without nightmares?
The memories of yesterday evening suddenly all come rushing back.
So I didn't go the whole night without them, it was just...earlier.
My heart squeezes.
While Lucy was in here.
Sighing, I sit up.
Now everyone knows how messed up I really am.
I mean, how many people do you come across who have a full blown panic attack over simple fireworks.
Well, it technically wasn't the fireworks, mostly just the noise.
A shudder runs through me as I recall last night.
Getting my mind off that, I check my watch.
6:24 A.M.
I get out of bed, thoughts of yesterday still streaming around in my head. One specific memory sticking out.
Lucy.
She stayed with me.
No ones ever done that for me.
I get a warm feeling in my chest.
Does she actually care for me?
With that thought, I head towards the bathroom to change my clothes.
When I finish, I slowly start walking towards the stairway.
What are they going to think? Are they going to ask questions? Will they want me to leave?
I feel my heart speed up with that last thought.
Only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, I head towards the kitchen. Noticing that I'm actually hungry for once.
Lucy's already in there, cooking pancakes while she hums to herself.
I stop at the entrance, my feet not wanting to move. Lucy seems to sense someone behind her, turning around.
As soon as her eyes land on me, her lips break out in a giant smile.
I feel myself relax.
"Morning, Alex!" She walks over to me, giving me a hug.
Surprised, I just stand there with my hands by my sides as I fight the urge to stiffen up or flinch away.
She lets go of me. "Alex, you could have told us you don't like loud noises." She sincerely says. "We would've left earlier."
My eyes slightly widen.
They would've left early for...Me?
"Sorry." I say a tad louder than I normally talk.
Now her eyes widen in surprise, another smile breaking out.
"There's no need for apologies." She gently says, eyes softening.
With that statement, I understand she's telling me not to worry about anything that happened last night.
As-in when I knocked her over.
I feel guilt squeeze my chest.
But before I can think on it anymore, she leads me over to my seat.
She plops some fresh off the skillet pancakes down on my plate, setting my pill cup beside my water glass.
As I'm pouring a bit of syrup onto my food, Don comes striding in through the door.
He look over at me, giving me a smile. "Good morning, Alex." He says, still walking towards his seat.
I look down at my plate.
"Morning ." I lightly say, absentmindedly poking my pancakes with my fork.
He suddenly stops walking, just continuing to stand there for a few seconds.
Guess I surprised him.
That seems to be happening a lot this morning.
Don sits heavily down in his chair, stacking some pancakes on his plate before dousing them in syrup.
Lucy sits down, looking towards Don. A secret message passes between them, and suddenly I don't feel so hungry.
Maybe they do want to get rid of me?
Sweat runs down my back, and I can feel my heart speeding up in anticipation.
Lucy looks over at me. "So, Alex. Mack is coming to stay with us." She says.
Wait.
What?
Mack...as-in the Mack from last night?
"His parents own the town bank and are leaving on a business trip today." She explains.
Well I guess that does explains it. In more ways than one.
"How long?" I quietly ask once I've struck up the nerve.
Once again they both look surprised. "Probably a week at the longest." Lucy replies, a small smile on her lips.
I nod my head, going back to picking at my food that now taste like chalk.
Why? Just why?
He hates me, and I'm not overly fond of him either.
That just spells: disaster.
But I'm sure this is normal routine for them, I'm the one imposing on them.
Downing my pills, I excuse myself and head up to my room.
I curl up on my bed, just laying there as dread begins to eat me up from inside.
A couple hours later, I hear the unmistakable sound of gravel being crunched underneath tires.
Getting up, I walk over to my window, looking out.
A black fancy looking SUV parks next to Lucy's, a trail of dust floating around in the air. Molly gets out of the passenger side while Mack jumps out of the back, grabbing his luggage.
Dragging his feet, he follows his mom towards the front door.
I lose sight of them, walking back to my bed.
A few minutes later, I hear the car leave.
Great, now I'm stuck here with an unpredictable rhino.
Faintly, I hear someone call my name from downstairs.
Sighing, I get up, walking back downstairs.
As I step into the living room, I spy Mack sitting over on one of the sofas, watching television with a bored expression splattered across his face.
His eyes meet mine for a split second before he quickly looks away.
But I could still tell.
He saw.
Yesterday he must've seen me.
I feel my heart lurch, sweat breaking out on my forehead.
"Alex, why don't you sit down and keep each other company." Lucy suddenly says, breaking me out of my thoughts.
Numbly, I take the farthest seat away from Mack on the sofa.
Don gives a small laugh, shaking his head before he carries Mack's luggage upstairs.
Lucy retreats back into the kitchen.
I slouch.
Obviously Lucy and Don are trying to make us get along.
We just sit in awkward silence, the TV on some sports channel being the only noise in the room.
I look down at my watch.
9:35 A.M.
Leaning further back against the sofa, I silently groan.
It's only been 15 minutes.
"So your from London?" Mack questions without even taking his eyes off the TV.
"Yes." I answer just loud enough to be heard.
He grunts, swinging his gaze around to face me.
"You don't sound like it." He crosses his arms, giving me what looks like an accusing stare.
All I do is shrug.
What'd he expect? An accent so strong you can't understand a single word I say.
"So, you do any sports?" He continues.
I take a moment to gather myself. "Used to play soccer." I tell him.
He seems startled for a moment, quickly masking it.
"What do you mean..."Used to?" He makes quotations with his fingers.
Once again, I just shrug.
Seeming displeased about my answer, he goes back to watching the screen.
About thirty minutes later, Mack gets up.
"Come on, let's go kick a soccer ball around." He says while stopping in front of me. "Seems we have something in common after all. But that doesn't mean I like you." His eyes harden.
He heads out the front door.
"Yeah well, same here." I mumble to myself.
I get up, going out the door.
Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this later?
Outside, I see Mack has already found a ball from somewhere, kicking it up and down on his knee while he waits.
"Alright, there's one goal." He points towards two apple trees that are positioned farther away from the others, a grassy clearing in front of them. "Between those two trees." He looks over at me.
I nod in understanding, then we start playing.
And Mack I have to say, is pretty good.
We kick the ball around, and at first I'm losing horribly from being so out of practice.
Which might I say, was not my fault.
But then soon enough, I'm back in my old rhythm, focused solely on getting the ball and scoring.
Sweat streams down my face like a river, dampening my clothes. My breathing coming out in controlled gasps.
But that comes with running around nonstop for a couple hours.
I'm winning: 21 to 18.
While we take a quick breather, I check my watch.
12:18 P.M.
Taking a deep breath, I wince as there's a painful stab deep inside my stomach.
There's also a pounding in the back of my head, a slight dizziness accompanying it.
Maybe it's a bit too much for me to go from not doing anything overly physical for two months, to running around kicking a soccer ball for over two hours.
Thinking back to right before I left the hospital, I'm pretty sure my doctor told me not to do anything too strenuous in the beginning.
He'd said something like; "Give your body time to adjust to little things. Do too much too early and it will have negative affects."
Your supposed to listen to your doctor.
But I'm not going to be the one that calls it quits.
I'm ripped from my thoughts as someone yells my name.
"ALEX!"
A white-hot-pain suddenly ignites in my stomach as what feels like a bowling ball slams full force into my stomach.
I gasp out loud, falling to my knees while I wrap my arms tightly around my stomach.
Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply through my nose as I feel bile make its way up my throat.
Deep breaths.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
With a throbbing stomach that feels like it's got hot knives digging into it, I manage to not throw up.
Opening my eyes, I'm met with black spots filling my vision.
I groan again, fighting back another wave of nausea.
"Are you okay?" I look up at Mack's concerned face.
"Fine." I choke out, squeezing my stomach tighter.
From his expression, I can see he doesn't believe me for one second.
"Should I go get someone?" Mack asks, a hint of worry leaking into his voice while he repeatedly glances from the house, back to me.
I raise an eyebrow.
Maybe he does have a caring side.
"Just give me a minute." I mumble out, finding it painful to talk or even breath for that matter.
Taking a couple more deep breaths that feel like hot pokers, I slowly start standing up.
Keeping my arms wrapped tightly around my stomach, I manage to stand with only a slight slouch.
I knew something bad was going to happen.
What'd I tell you?
"Well, I guess no more soccer today." Mack jokes, trying to add some humor to the situation.
I just stare at him.
Is this the same boy that had just been so hostile towards me no more than two hours ago?
It must just be an act, that uncaring stuck up attitude he'd been relentlessly showing.
I quickly piece it together.
Parents that are never home. Me being here, taking his place with people he loves.
Maybe he really isn't a stuck up brat/bully.
Maybe.
I just grunt in reply.
Attempting to take a step, I immediately gasp.
Each step I take feels like I'm being punched in the stomach, hot-lava burning inside me.
I limp to the back porch, placing my slightly trembling hand on the railing as I take a couple more deep breaths before I head inside.
Mack-who's walking in front of me, glances back with a confused mixed with concern expression.
Most likely wondering why I'm acting like I just got hit by a truck.
It would probably be less painful.
Right as we head into the kitchen, Lucy comes walking out, almost colliding with Mack.
"Oh! There you guys are. I was just coming to tell you it's time for lunch." Lucy says, a big smile stretched across her face.
I walk over to my chair, holding my right arm around my aching stomach.
Sitting down makes it hurt less.
But as soon as Lucy lays a ham-sandwich down in front of me, I know I'm not going to be able to eat it. Unless I want to throw it all back up.
Preferably not.
I look over at Mack who's happily eating his sandwich, not even a hint of hesitation on his face.
I feel a twinge of jealousy.
I might never be able to eat like that agin. To eat and not have to worry if your just going to vomit it all up as soon as you finish.
Sighing, I know not to dwell on those things.
Picking up my sandwich, I take a small bite out of it. As I set it back down, I see Mack look over at me strangely.
I just stare down at my plate, pretending to eat.
Don comes in, sitting down at the table while Lucy collects his food for him.
Coming back, I notice she's frowning.
"Alex, we forgot about your medicine in-between breakfast and lunch." Her eyebrows knit together.
My heart skips a beat.
And I just so happen to get hit in the stomach really hard with a soccer ball on the day I forgot to take my medicine that's specifically for my stomach condition.
Great, just great.
"Must've been having too much fun out there playing soccer." Don says, amusement coating voice.
"Is that alright, Alex? Are you okay?" Lucy asks, concern growing on her face.
I just nod my head, immediately regretting it when the hammering starts back up in the back of my skull.
"So I was thinking I could join you boys in some soccer later?" Don asks, looking between Mack and I.
Mack glances over at me, then turns back to Don.
"Actually I'm kinda pooped for today. Maybe tomorrow." Mack apologetically says.
Don looks a tad disappointed before replacing it with a smirk. "Sounds good to me. So are you two getting along better?" He questions.
I just stare down at my plate, letting Mack answer.
"Maybe a little."
I look up at Mack who's smirking back at Don, almost like he's daring him to deny it.
"Well that's great!" Lucy happily says, obviously ignoring Don and Mack's little staring contest.
They all continue to finish their food, Lucy commenting on something in her magazine every few minutes.
I've taken one bite out of my sandwich and can't eat anymore. Only one thought circling around in my head.
I need to go lay down.
Taking my meds, I excuse myself, carefully getting up from my chair. Fully aware that everyone's staring at me.
Hiding my limp the best I can, I exit the kitchen and head up the stairs.
By the time I've reached the top, sweat is running down my face like a river, a heat floating from my stomach all the way up to my head.
I walk into my room, shutting the door.
Not even bothering with a shower after all that running around, I go over to my bed. Taking off my shoes, I curl up with my arms around my stomach, knees drawn up to my chest.
My head feels like it's literally going to explode, my stomach on fire with pain, nausea circling around inside me.
Curling up tighter, I take carefully measured deep breaths, just like how the doctors instructed.
But it doesn't go away.
It just continues to hammer and burn, my hair plastered to my neck and forehead from all the sweat.
I feel tears begin to build up in my eyes.
It hurts so badly.
Mack's (POV)
Maybe this Alex guy isn't so bad. I mean sure he doesn't really talk much, which really annoys me for some reason. He's taken Lucy and Don's attention, their time.
My time with them.
But maybe I'm just judging a book by its cover...?
I literally don't know anything about him, so I can't just hate him. But I couldn't reign in my jealousy, it got the better of me and now we're at odds.
And after seeing him last night...the fireworks.
A shudder runs through me as I recall Alex's fear ridden expression.
Well I guess time will tell.
Deciding that I'm bored of watching TV, I get up. "Come on, let's go kick a soccer ball around." I walk so I'm standing in front of Alex-who's just staring blankly over at the screen.
"Seems we have something in common after all. But it doesn't mean I like you." I say more harshly than I intended.
Heading out, I don't wait on Alex. Finding my ball, I start doing a couple drills.
When Alex finally comes over, I explain where the goal is, then we start playing.
At first I was excited.
I'm the better soccer player.
For the first hour Alex was being slow, his feet uncoordinated. But then he started warming up to it.
And it was awesome.
I could barely keep up with him he was moving so fast, and he was definitely not tripping over the ball anymore.
It was like he and the ball were one.
As sappy as that sounds.
Gliding around me like I wasn't even there, face set in such deep concentration that anyone could tell just by looking that he's in the zone.
Trying to keep my surprise from showing on my face, I continue playing.
I did not expect this from him. I mean, he looks pretty athletic and all, but way too skinny.
Like I said earlier: don't judge a book by its cover.
After another hour of playing, we're both gasping for breath, sweat all over us.
Taking a break, I sit down, trying to catch my breath.
I'm losing: 21 to 18.
I shake my head in wonder.
And I only scored all my points from the first hour, because I sure as heck didn't score any from the last.
When school starts up again he should join our soccer team.
With him, we would be unbeatable.
I smile at the thought.
I stand up.
Seeing the soccer ball just sitting there in front of me, I get a sudden urge to kick it as hard as I can.
And I do.
Except I forgot one thing...
Check my surroundings.
At the same time my foot connects with the ball, I look up to see Alex standing thirty feet away.
Right where the ball is going to go.
I yell out, hoping he'll move out of the way in time.
He doesn't.
I watch as the ball sails through the air in a perfect arch, hitting him square in the stomach with a resounding WHACK.
I hear him draw in a sharp gasp, then he falls to his knees, wrapping both arms around his stomach.
I run over to him.
I'm such an idiot.
How could I not of seen him standing right there. Now he'll probably think I did it on purpose.
I stop in front of him.
He has his eyes shut, breathing deeply while his arms tighten even tighter around his stomach.
His face is pale, set in a painful grimace.
What should I do? Should I go get someone?
After a minute, Alex blinks his eyes open. Groaning, he continues to blink-like he's having trouble focusing.
"Are you okay?" I ask him, hearing the concern in my voice.
"Fine." He barely gets out.
I give him an unbelieving stare.
"Should I go get someone?" I finally ask.
He raises an eyebrow at me, like he can't believe I just asked that.
Hey, I have a caring side.
"Just give me a minute." He mumbles out.
He honestly doesn't look any better, and now he seems to be having difficulties breathing.
After a couple painful looking deep breaths, he manages to stand...well, stand/slouch.
"Well, I guess no more soccer today." I say, attempting to add some humor.
He just grunts in reply before taking a step. He immediately gasps, pausing as he seems to mentally prepare himself.
He takes another small hesitant step, continuing to limp over towards the back porch.
Frowning, I follow.
I know that probably hurt a lot, but why's it having such a lasting effect on him?
Going inside, I pass Alex in the hallway, glancing back at him with a puzzled expression on my face.
Walking into the kitchen, I expertly dodge Lucy as we almost collide into each other.
Let's just say this happens a lot.
She gives us one of her big smiles. "Oh! There you guys are. I was just coming to tell you it's time for lunch." She says.
I head to my seat, immediately digging into my sandwich Lucy already has sitting out.
Lucy and Alex take their seats.
After I'm about halfway done with my food, I hear Alex sigh from across the other side of the table.
Looking over, I see him take a small bite, setting it back down.
He just stares down at it, like it's the sandwiches fault for being there in the first place.
He glances up and immediately notices me staring over at him. Quickly he looks back down at his plate.
I share a look with Lucy.
What's wrong with him?
He should be feeling better by now.
Don comes in from outside, sitting down with a heavy sigh.
Lucy gets up to fetch his food, returning with a concerned look on her face.
What? Don's food too cold?
Giving Don his food, she faces Alex. "Alex, we forgot about your medicine in-between breakfast and lunch."
I see Alex ever so slightly tense up.
Medicine?
"Must've been having too much fun out there playing soccer." Don says, amusement coating his voice.
Lucy still looks concerned. "Is that alright Alex? Are you okay?"
Alex shrugs like it's nothing.
But I don't believe him.
"So I was thinking I could join you boys in some soccer later?" Don asks, taking a bite of his sandwich.
I look over at Alex.
I really don't think he's going to want to play anymore today.
Thinking fast, I give Don an answer. "Actually I'm kinda pooped for today. Maybe tomorrow."
He looks disappointed before quickly replacing it with a smirk. "Sounds good to me. So are you two getting along better?"
I smirk back.
"Maybe a little." I reply, taking another bite out of my sandwich.
Lucy looks excited about that prospect. "Well that's great!" She gives us a big smile.
Finishing my sandwich, I look over towards Alex who's in the midst of taking some pills.
What are those for?
He slowly gets up, asking to be excused.
While he's walking away, I can tell he's still limping.
And apparently some other people noticed also.
"What happened?" Don asks, looking accusingly over at me.
"Mack, did you do something?" Lucy raises an eyebrow at me.
Why do they always assume everything's my fault...?
Okay, so maybe a lot of things are usually my fault...but that's besides the point.
"No. I mean I did, but it wasn't really my fault." I try pleading.
"What happened?" Don asks again.
I hang my head down, tracing my finger over the designs in the wood tabletop.
"We were playing soccer, and I may or may not have kicked the ball into his stomach." I mumble out.
"Mack!" Lucy exclaims, disbelief in her voice. "How in the world do you just kick a ball into someone's stomach?"
Thankfully Don comes to my defense. "Lucy dear, calm down. Boys will be boys." Don tries to explain. "Things like this happen all the time."
"I know that! But you know Alex has a...sensitive stomach." Lucy says, losing some of her frustration.
Sensitive stomach?
"Accidents happen." Don simply says, going back to eating.
After I finish mine, I head back into the living room to watch some more TV.
About an hour later, Lucy comes in from out back.
She stops by me. "Mack, I want to show you what I got your mother for her birthday." She excitedly says.
I groan, slowly getting up.
So I follow her upstairs.
When we're about halfway up the stairs, the sound of a door being opened loudly reaches our ears.
Another door opens, and we hear the unmistakable sound of someone vomiting.
Lucy wordlessly runs up the rest of the steps, me following.
We're greeted with the sight of Alex on his knees, bent over the toilet, in the process of vomiting up more...vomit.
Lucy immediately runs into the bathroom, holding his hair back out of the way of his face.
I pause at the doors entrance.
Without meaning to, I get a clear glance of inside the toilet.
Blood.
There's some blood mixed in with the vomit.
I feel bile rise in the back of my own throat, and I turn away in a attempt to calm my stomach.
Looking back after a second, I see Alex is just hovering over the toilet now, eyes closed tightly shut.
He's trembling, a sheen of sweat coating his face and dampening his hair, one arm wrapped around his stomach while the other one supports his weight.
Lucy helps him up.
Groaning, he sways for a second before grabbing onto the sink for support.
Lucy looks over at me, and I get the message.
Walking in, I grab the other side of Alex. And together we walk him back to his room.
Laying him down on his bed, he immediately curls up, holding his stomach with trembling arms.
Lucy places the back of her hand on his sweaty forehead, keeping it there for a moment.
She gets up, looking at me. "Stay here, I've got to go get some things."
I nod, walking closer to his bed while she practically sprints out of the room.
Looking back over at Alex, I'm shocked to see tears now sliding down both his cheeks.
Is this from me?
I think back to after Alex had left lunch, when Lucy had said something about Alex having a sensitive stomach.
The pills.
I start to feel guilty.
Am I the reason he's in so much pain right now?
Alex is breathing hard, his face twisted in pain while he keeps his eyes sealed shut.
He starts whimpering.
Lucy runs back in carrying a hot water pad, a cup of water, a rag, and a plastic bucket.
"Alex, it'll be okay." She soothingly says to him while stroking his forehead, taking a seat on the bed beside his head.
She slightly lifts his head up. "Drink some water." She places the cup at his lips, and he takes a dainty sip.
Gently she pries his arms from around his middle, placing the hot water pad on his stomach.
He immediately rewraps his arms back around, hot water pad tucked neatly in-between his stomach and arms.
She sets the bucket on the floor, next to the bed.
"For if your sick again." She tells Alex.
Taking the rag, she starts dabbing his forehead.
"Does he have a fever?" I ask, remembering when I had one she did the same exact thing.
"Yes." She softly answers.
Looking back at Alex, I notice he seems just little more comfortable than before.
But I still feel the guilt gnawing away.
"Is this my fault?" I ask Lucy.
Without pausing, she replies.
"No."
A/N
You're so stubborn Alex. Lol.
So, thoughts? REVIEW! ^_^ What's going to happen now?