Page 30 of Conner's Luna

I laugh, but when he doesn't, I stop and stare at him in amazement. "You're serious?"

"That's what my degree says - will say," he says.

"Your degree is in Applied Statistics?" I ask him.

"Yup. Doubled in Business," he brags.

My mouth drops open. "You're a nerd," I breathe. "An asymmetrical nerd with an 8 inch-longhand."

Uncle Mattie plops down on the couch next to us, laughing so hard he can barely breathe.

Conner cracks up, too, but as soon as the first chuckle slips, he sucks in a pain-filled breath and curls inward, jostling my shoulder. I cry out in pain and Conner groans out a soft, "fuck!" I feel him hug me and whisper, "sorry, babe."

Uncle Mattie stops laughing and moves over to us. "Alright, Bailey. Let's get you looked at. I want to check for any displacement."

"OK," I sit up with his help, examining his face carefully until I'm satisfied that he's as beautiful as my first glimpse told me. I'm a bit jealous, to tell the truth, but as distractions go, this man is good for it.

I'm also completely unnerved, and as Uncle Mattie pokes and prods my shoulder I have to wonder if I'm pushing myself too hard.

My mom died; a life-altering experience that will scar me forever. My first college experience and I'm bullied by a jerk and his friends, which is odd enough but made so much worse by the depths of the attraction I have toward said jerk. I meet an equally-impressive man who is at times also a jerk and at times a funny, intelligent marshmallow. I am juggling a new internship, lack of sleep, poor eating habits, and extreme personal loss and upheaval.

It makes perfect sense that I may suffer a mental break. In fact, I could almost say it's expected. That would explain Conner's eyes. It would suck for me, of course, and indicate an early end to my very promising genetics career, but maybe I can be another beautiful mind. Bailey Madison Washington, changing the world from inside the mental asylum.

Yes. That must be it. I'm in shock, or sick, or drugged, because there is no way that Conner's eyes glowed like a cat's and his pupils shifted into vertical slits like a goat's when Lydia opened her stupid, red-painted lips (ease up on the jelly, Bailey, geez).

It does not explain the dislocation to my shoulder. Physical manifestations of delusions are possible, but not with the very first experienced delusion. I'm fairly certain it's my first delusion, but what crazy person knows that they are crazy?

The odds are Conner actually dislocated my shoulder with nothing more than his four fingers and one thumb.

"You need to call your dad," Uncle Mattie finishes re-wrapping my shoulder.

"I will," I say.

"No," Conner replies at the same time.

I look at Conner, then back at Uncle Mattie. "Oh, you meanConnershould call his dad?"

Uncle Mattie smiles. "Yes, but you should call yours, too. I don't think anything is broken, so you don't need x-rays, but if you become more uncomfortable or the swelling lasts for more than three days, it's an E.R. visit."

I groan. "I hate the E.R."

"When have you been?" Conner snaps. He goes pale, "I mean, other than that car accident?"

"You were recently in a car accident?" Uncle Mattie's eyes sharpen on me. He grabs a penlight out of his pocket (he's so prepared) and shines it in my eyes.

"A while ago. It was just a fender-bender. I didn't have a concussion," I inform him.

Uncle Mattie clicks his penlight off with a sigh. "Alright, Bailey. Keep taking ibuprofen. You can take up to 500mgs, but make sure you don't take more than that in the space of six hours. Keep off of your shoulder and get lots of rest. Keep it bound tight for at least a week."

I yawn, "OK."

Uncle Mattie turns to Conner. "Can I see you outside?" he asks.

Conner gets up from his position half-under me. He moves slowly as we both let out little groans and expulsions of air from the pain and discomfort.

Conner follows his Uncle outside. I watch the door intently. It may be prying, but I want to know what they're talking about. Why is Conner in pain?

Before I can start mentally ticking off the possible causes of abdominal bruising, they walk back inside. Conner looks angry and tired as he stalks back over to me and crawls onto the couch, bringing my body gently back into his.

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