Chapter Two-Hundred and Thirteen

Clarissa milled about John's recovery room, replacing the thin, scratchy hospital blankets with the soft plush ones from home. She hummed a lullaby as he slept, her head snapping up as she saw the label on one of his IV drips. "No…" She breathed, reading the most dreaded word she could think of on the IV bag 'Morphine.'

John's body twitched sending her heart into a panic, the images of his seizures surfacing from the pit she'd forced them into. "Momma…" He groaned, the pain having all but disappeared leaving only the slightest ache in his bones.

She grinned, able to see that he wasn't all there. Not from the morphine though, but from being knocked out for his surgery. "I'm here, Baby." She brushed his hair back, forcing herself to not laugh as he struggled to focus on her and seemed to be having trouble thinking straight. "Are you loopy?" She asked, reaching for a puke bag as she recognized that he was becoming nauseous.

He retched into the bag, gripping her hands with white knuckles. "Momma…" He coughed, flopping back against his pillows as she tried her best to sooth him. "Home…"

She nodded, kissing his forehead as his eyelids grew heavy. "We'll go home when you're a little more awake." She whispered, letting her eyes drift down to his leg. "Just a little longer."

Claire pulled John's crutches from the back of her car, helping him fit them under his arms and taking his school books from him. "Feeling better?" She asked, walking as slowly as she could beside him as he hobbled along.

"I'll feel better when this damn cast gets taken off." He muttered, lifting his head high as he limped into the school to hide the shame.

She nodded, touching a spot on his shirt that was hiding a burn. "Three more weeks. That's all."

He stopped in the hallway, giving his arms a rest for a moment before he continued on. "Sweets, three weeks seems like three years when you hurt like this."

She shook her head, opening his locker for him and opening it only for a note to fall out. "What the…" She picked the paper up, smiling as she read the writing of nearly every teen in the school. "Look!" She handed it to him, watching as his eyes scanned over the card.

Glad you're back J.B!

Time for more music! Rock on man! -Travis, Lucky, Wally, Jane, Cora, Lillian, Jennifer, Haley, and Greg. AKA Music class.

DUDE! Get your ass to the gym! We need someone to beat the snot outta Mikey! -Toby, Braxton, Dalton, Xavier, Bucky, Rick, and Mike. P.s. Don't beat the snot outta me man. -Mikey.

Amigo, la clase de español no es lo mismo sin ti. -Toby (again), Hannah, Jorge, Estevan, Tanner, Emma, Giselle, Cynthia, Kate, Lola, and Kenny.

The note continued through all of the classes John was in, and even a few he wasn't. "Holy… fuck…" He breathed, looking up at the people around him as they all grinned at him. "You, you all… missed me?"

"Hell yeah, Johnny!" Toby grinned, moving to slap him on the back but stopping and slowing to a gentle pat. "How can we not miss a tough son of a bitch like you?" He ruffled John's hair, taking his books from Claire. "We're glad you're back, dummy."

Jessica ripped John's crutches out from under his arms, shoving him to the ground. "I hate you!" She screamed, looking at the drawings and names on his cast, noticing that Claire's name was particularly close to his crotch. "You told me you loved me when we were kids. Why did you choose her? We were meant to have babies together!"

John attempted to push himself up, relying on Braxton to lift him up slightly. "Jess. That was a fifth grade homework assignment. It was an egg. I only said that I loved you for our speech in the class room." He shoved away from Braxton, struggling to hobble over to her. "I didn't know what the fuck love was! I was abused! My old man beat the fucking shit outta me every day! The only 'love' I got to see, was my old man raping my mother until she passed out!" He grabbed his crutches back. "Now go home. Go back to Chicago. Find someone to settle down with there." He placed his crutches under his arms, pushing past her and limping his way to his Spanish Class. "Just… leave me alone."