Page 112 of Just One Bite
“No breaks. Just a sprain. They suggest taking the day off and resting … together. Since we’re linked, they said your Were cells heal faster, and they think it will heal me quicker through the bond.” She sighs and crosses her arms; her wrist is tightly wrapped for support. “Can we go to my room?”
“Done.”
I squat, waiting for her to wrap her arms around my shoulders. There’s noway she’s walking on that ankle all the way back to Noxx House. She rolls her eyes and wraps an arm over my neck, finally giving in.
“Olivia, stop being a stubborn pain in the ass. We have to get off your shoes.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Lay down,” I tell her for the second time. She’s staring at me from the edge of her bed. I started the hearth for her, and the glow reflects in her defiant eyes. I love her bed and all the overlapping fabrics of blankets she’s brought from home. It kinda reminds me of how my mom used to decorate our home. Long dark curtains with various layers and frills.
I smirk when she finally does what I said and undo the ribbons on her legs. Starting with the good ankle, I take off her pointe shoe. The muscles in her calf tense as I do.
“Relax, I’m used to the smell of your feet by now.”
“Shut up.”
I rummage through her bag and pull out the bandages and fuzzy socks to tend to the few blisters on her foot before moving to the next. Her room is unusually messy, with piles of old clothes at the foot of her bed. She’s locked in her head the entire time I tend to her foot and move onto the next one.
I squeeze light pressure at her heel to ground her.
“Okay, I’m going to be gentle. Tell me where it hurts.”
“It doesn’t hurt that much.”
“Why didn’t you have the doctor look at your ankle?”
“I just told you.”
“I know it hurts, Olivia. I can feel it.”
“I’ll be fine. I can still dance.”
“I know.” I assure her, knowing that’s all she cares about.
She winces as I remove her shoe, and her fingers claw at the sheets. I soften my touch and run it around the cool skin of her ankle.
“Does it hurt here?”
She shakes her head, and I slowly roll her ankle. Her brow dents while her teeth grind.
“Don’t worry. I don’t think it’s that bad. I can get you some ice.” I observe the blister on the top of her foot. “I’ll need to rewrap this though.”
“Then you’ll stay?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m so … so …”
She catches the tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m overwhelmed. Too many things are going on. I don’t know what to do. And it’s Giselle, it’s not just getting into the IBCE. This is my dream role, and it’s slipping away.”
My fingers work into her calf. “Relax. It’s going to be okay. You’ll keep your spot.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You definitely need to go back to practice. The tournament is coming up and—”
