Sorry for the long-ish update. I had finals to do, and a graduation to prepare for. So she is in therapy... (at least she won't die.) I know nothing about therapy sessions, so bear with me. Thanks for all your reviews, but I want more! (please?) And presenting...Chapter 8!

Luv,

Summer K.

He was a brown haired boy of about 15. He had braces, and he had one fake leg. Casey was startled by his abrupt approach.

"Um, well." she stammered. "I was shot, by a stray bullet."

Nobody seemed interested in what happened to her. They just sat and stared at nothing in particular.

"My name is Brad." he said. "You are?"

"Casey. So what happened to you?"

"My dad, he ripped it off." he said dully. But she could hear anger in his voice.

"Wow." she said. "I'm sorry."

"Ok youngsters-" Troy started.

"We're not youngsters." the same girl with bruises on her face said.

"Ok, young men and women, welcome to your first therapy session. So we'll start today by sharing our names and if you don't mind, the reason why you are here." he paused slightly. "Ok, I'll start. My name is Troy Prince. You guys may not realize this, but my legs are fake. My mother and father chopped my legs off when I was four because I spilled milk on the floor."

Many people's mouths dropped open, including Casey's. Brad's face didn't change. Troy ignored them. "Ok, onto the next person on my right."

A short boy with blonde hair took a moment before he spoke. "My name's Ryan. I'm fifteen years old, and I was born without my lower legs."

The black boy with braids next to him smiled and spoke. "Hey, what's up. My name is Tyrique, and I'm 16. I had a bad accident on my bike and lost my legs."

The girl with the bruises smirked and started speaking. "Only a bike? I ran away and my pimp decided I wasn't giving him the money I owed him and sawed both my legs off. Then I decided to go home-a freak. My name is Carrie, and I'm fourteen."

A boy with red hair and green eyes next to her spoke. "My name is Daniel, and I'm 16. I was the subject of cruel teasing, and they decided it would be funny if my legs were cut off."

The boy with brown hair next to her spoke in the same tone he used with her when he described his story to her. "My name is Brad and I'm 15. My dad ripped both my legs off for no reason."

Casey looked around for a moment. Everyone had far worse stories than she. "I'm Casey. I'm 15, and I was shot by a stray bullet in a park."

"Ok, I'm going to pair you all up into groups of two." Troy instructed. "Before you all split up, this is what you need to do. Many of you can stand, but practice standing, then walking. Many of you should be walking comfortably by the end of the day, but if you can't, it's ok. We have another session on Thursday." He motioned his hand for Carrie and Casey to follow him. "Girls, follow me."

Casey and Carrie maneuvered their wheelchairs as best as possible to follow Troy who was going to another part of the room. "Ok, as I just explained, the first steps of walking are standing, so I want the both of you to hold on to your wheelchairs, and push yourselves up. I'm here for moral support, but sorry, I can't help you stand and walk."

"Well, here goes nothing." Carrie mumbled to herself. She held on to her wheelchair firmly after Troy put on the brakes, and grimaced as she pushed herself up. Casey followed suit. They quickly sat back down when they heard a shout, and a thud on the floor. They turned around in their chairs in time to see Tyrique stumble and fall with a loud thud on the floor.

Troy rushed over to Tyrique to see if he was ok. And to help him back into his chair. He said something to him.

"Yeah, I'm ok." Tyrique answered aloud.

"OK. Back to business." Troy stated, but no one moved. They were to busy watching each other nervously to see who would try again first. Carrie looked annoyed.

"Come on." She mumbled to no one in particular. She set her face as she once again firmly gripped her wheelchair and stood up wobbly. "Ha, losers." she said loud enough for only Casey to hear.

She felt offended. I'll show you what I can do. She said inwardly. Casey grimaced as pain shot up in her legs, but she knew it was a good sign. She had feeling in her feet. She stood up slowly, and grabbed onto the handlebar next to her to steady herself. Soon, she no longer felt the need to hold on. She focused on her feet. Move. She commanded her left foot. It moved in a wobbly baby step way, but she kept her balance. She willed her right foot to move.

She was unaware of Carrie scowling at her, or the boys that watched her take her shaky steps, especially Tyrique, or that Troy was right behind her with the wheelchair. She lost her balance trying to make her third step, and fell into the wheelchair Troy was holding for her.

"Thank you." she breathed. She was exhausted, yet exhilarated. She had walked two steps. As small as it was, she was happy. No more 50/50. She knew she was going to walk. It just needed a little work. Troy patted her on her back. "Good job, Casey. Keep it up, and you'll be running by Saturday."

She smiled and nodded in return. The rest of the time, Troy walked around to everyone helping them stand and take their first steps. Tyrique was the most "advanced" walker there, and was nearly running by the time the session was over. He opted to stay in his wheelchair, though. Casey was walking comfortably, too. However, it was so slow, she felt as though she was going in slow motion. When the session was over, Troy dismissed them to go to their rooms or the lounge. Tyrique wheeled up to her as Casey was leaving.

"Hey, wait up, Casey." he said.

"Yes?" Casey turned around as best she could in her chair.

He smiled another one of those gorgeous smiles, and asked, "Hey, I'm headin' down to the lounge. Want to come with me?"

Casey returned his smile. "Sure. Let's go."

Tyrique + Casey + Derek do not equal Dasey. I just wanted to let you know, that this story will have a predictable ending, with a surprising plot. Ok, no more secret-telling. You read the rest.