Hard Feelings by K.M. Galvin

Six

When I wake up, I have no idea how long I was sleeping, but if the pillow marks on my cheeks are any indication, it’s been at least a couple of hours. My head feels better. Thankfully, I caught the migraine at the earliest signs before it got too bad, so I don’t have the full episode hangover I usually have.

Hobbling into the bathroom to take care of business, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wince.

God, I look pale. Or rode hard and put away wet, as we like to say in the South.

My blonde hair is a mess, one side of my curls totally flat from where I lay on them, skin pale and pasty. My gray eyes are dull, bloodshot, and watery. I’m just thankful we don’t have school tomorrow because, Jesus …

Nurse Dad must have heard me moving around because he is already knocking on my door and poking his head in.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asks softly before swinging the door open when he sees I’m up.

I’m not, not at all, but I know if I don’t eat, that will only make things worse. “I could eat.”

“I’ve got some lentil soup going if you want to join me. The sun is almost down, so you can come downstairs without it paining you.”

“I think I’m okay now, Dad. I got the shot before it got worse,” I reassure him, knowing he gets panicky when I’m sick.

My dad used to turn into such a mother hen when my mother had a migraine, but it’s an entirely different level for me.

He nods, relieved. “Okay, I’ll go get you a bowl. Want to join me downstairs?”

I give him a thumbs-up and move stiffly out of the bathroom and follow him downstairs.

Moving like I’m decades older than I am, I grab the bowl of soup he prepared for me and groan as I take a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

“How are your ribs?” Dad asks, watching me carefully as he takes a spoonful.

“They hurt more today than yesterday,” I admit, twirling my spoon around in the bowl. “I’m stiff.”

“I think I should stay home on Tuesday too. We’ve got your follow-up appointment anyway. We can get McDonald’s on the way home!”

I laugh softly at his enthusiasm. You know you live in a small town when a trip to McDonald’s two towns over is an adventure, but he looks so excited that I agree easily. One more day before I have to go back to school.

I try not to let the anxiety of returning to school send me into a tailspin. There’s no way the entire school doesn’t already know what happened. The only thing that spreads faster than fire in this town is gossip.

My phone is silent, except for Cassidy and Marcus, both of them checking in on me periodically. I am tempted to unblock Killian just to see if he’s texted me, but I throw that thought away immediately. No need to torture myself.

Dad begins talking about an interview for a contract job that’ll keep him busy for a couple of months.

“It’ll bring in more than enough money, so you can quit your job and focus only on school and soccer. It’s crunch time now, kiddo.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. With this setback, I feel like I’m starting this season a month behind everyone else. That’s great news though. I’ll let Elizabeth know,” I tell him, feeling a strange sort of sadness at the thought.

Without the excuse of cleaning, I’ll have no reason to ever step foot in the house I spent half my childhood in again. Subconsciously, I rub the ache that thought causes in my chest.

I know this year is the calm before a lot of change in my life and in my dad’s, but this seems …

“You okay?” Dad asks tentatively. “You don’t have to quit if you don’t want to. I just figured—”

Feeling silly, I quickly reassure him, “No, no, you’re right. It’s a good idea, and I’ll appreciate having a solid rest day on Sundays to get a head start on school stuff for the following week.”

Yawning widely, I dig in and we eat in companionable silence.

I should probably call Cassidy to see what the gossip is. The downside of having no real social media presence is getting left out of the loop on nearly everything.

It’s also the upside.

As if I put the Bat-Signal out for some hot gossip, my phone starts ringing with Cassidy’s assigned ringtone—“Mooo!” by Doja Cat.

It never fails to make me laugh, and to be honest, it’s the only reason my phone isn’t always on silent.

I scoop one more massive mouthful and gesture at my phone to my dad. He waves me away, grabbing my empty bowl, and I answer the phone.

“Are you sure you’re not psychic?” I greet her, laughing lightly as I make my way out to the deck out back and settle into one of the Adirondack chairs facing the lake.

“I’ve been saying!” Cassidy laughs.

“So, spill ’cause I’m sure your phone’s been blowing up,” I demand, chewing on my thumbnail in dread.

“Well, you’ll be shocked. I’m sure you know it’s all over town that Bitchney Watts tried to take you out and Killian stepped in.”

“Cool. Killian gets to keep his sterling reputation. I’m sure no one is talking about how she did all that in his name or for his attention or whatever.”

“Girl, let me finish because, shock of shocks, Killian has put the word out that if he even sees you with anything other than a smile on your face, there will be consequences.”

I blink, my stomach slightly dropping. “I just want to be left alone, period.”

“It’s better than some pick-me girl trying to break your damn ribs!”

“Who does he think he is, honestly? No high school boy should have this much power; it’s weird.”

“It’s also the way it is, and, yeah, it’s weird. I feel like we’re living in a high school drama on TV or something. Who do you think would play me?”

“Madelaine Petsch, duh,” I say without hesitation.

“She’s so hot.” Cassidy sighs.

“And I’m sure you think that for other reasons than she looks exactly like you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with loving yourself.” Cassidy laughs. And, well, she’s right.

Cassidy has more confidence than anyone I’ve ever met. Surprisingly, it’s genuine. Amazing what happens when you grow up in a family with parents who have high emotional intelligence.

Can’t relate.

“What does ‘consequences’ even mean? He’s going to beat everyone’s ass? He sounds like some teen Mafia boss.” I circle back to the point of this conversation.

“I’m not sure, and I don’t think anyone wants to find out. People get a lot of popularity by association, and none of the vapid idiots we go to school with want to lose that.”

“Hmm …” I stare at the sun setting behind the waterline, mulling that over. “He came by here.”

“Who, Killian?” Cassidy gasps.

“Yeah, he was here this morning, talking to Dad and then again this afternoon.”

“Dude …”

“I know. I think he finally sees the damage he’s caused.”

“And?” she prompts.

“And nothing. This doesn’t change anything. My sole focus is on graduating and not fucking up my scholarship to UCLA.” It’s all that matters.

“Why does it feel like senior year is never going to end?” Cassidy asks after a beat, wisely deciding not to push this at the moment.

“Because you want it to.” I shiver slightly and decide it’s a bit too chilly to be outside in shorts and just a hoodie.

I head upstairs, putting Cassidy on speakerphone. “Hey, you’re on speakerphone,” I warn her so she doesn’t say anything my dad could potentially hear.

He knows how it is in town, but I don’t think he has any idea how bad it’s gotten for me at school. I’ve done a good job of letting most of it roll off my shoulder, and it helps that I have a team of girls ready to throw down on my behalf, but that doesn’t mean some things don’t eat at me.

Case in point: my ribs.

Dad doesn’t need to worry about that on top of everything else. If anything, he’d pull me from school immediately and ruin my chances at UCLA.

“Gotcha. Hey, so, listen, the real reason I called is because Tan and I are heading to the dollar theater. They’re having a Will Ferrell movie marathon, and since there’s no school tomorrow, I figured you’d be down?”

Tanner and Cassidy both love Will Ferrell, and normally, I would, but, “Thanks for the invite, Cassidy, but I had a headache earlier, and I just want to chill. I’m probably going to bed after we hang up, honestly.”

“Aw, you okay? Want me to bring you something?”

I smile at her thoughtfulness. “I appreciate it, but I’m all set. I feel fine now, just drained.”

“Okay, Glo. I’ll come over tomorrow and hang in bed with you. We’ll have a Gilmore Girls marathon.”

“Deal. Love you. Bye!”

“Love ya!”

I set my phone on my nightstand and decide to forgo taking a shower before bed. The idea is exhausting. I head to my dad’s office, knowing he’s already tucked away in there, working, and say good night.

I know just because we dropped the subject tonight doesn’t mean it’s over with Cassidy. Killian crossing our invisible boundary and coming into enemy territory is huge.

Sighing heavily, I climb into bed and turn on my white noise maker, hoping it distracts my brain from the racing thoughts.

Fucking Killian.