After being in the hospital waiting room for hours, they finally got this idiot a room and care. You’d think they would be more urgent about getting to him after he suffered head trauma.

Because he fell on his stupid face twice.

Now I’m going to have to wait here and watch this idiot until he wakes up, just to make sure he doesn’t die. And so that I don’t have to feel guilty. But the second this little shit wakes up, I’m bailing. I don’t need him seeing my face and knowing who hit him, because I would be at fault. The one small bit of luck that I did have throughout this is that there are no cameras anywhere in the school parking lot.

But that was only one bit of luck.

And with this guy hitting his head twice, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have at least some brain damage – or amnesia. Can you lose your memory after hitting your head just twice?

I glance at him – he’s sleeping very fitfully. They said it’s possible that he’d move around some, but if he keeps shifting around in his sleep like this, I’ll have to tell a nurse. Returning to my book, I shrug it off. I’ll give him a few more minutes. A little moving around couldn’t hurt him.

Plus, I never get to read anymore. This is as good a time as any to do it.

Losing myself in the swirl of inky pages, forgetting about Ayden is easy. I don’t realize he’s awake until the little shit interrupts. “Hey!” I glance at him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, you. You fucking idiot!”

“Watch your mouth-“

“Don’t talk to me that way, peasant!” He huffs and sits up, his face red. “You’re a maniac! How could you not notice the most beautiful thing you’ve been fortunate enough to lay your pathetic eyes on?!”

“Excuse me, but you’re hardly attract-“

“Shut it! How dare you hit me with your piece of shit car!” I hate that I flinch away at his raised voice. I fucking swear I will hit him, regardless of his head trauma.

“That was a gift from my mother. And if you interrupt me one more time-“

“You little bi-“ He’s interrupted by my book flying in a spectacular arc towards his head, before meeting it’s mark and slamming into his face.

I can take a lot, but never, and I mean never will I sit by and let somebody use gender slurs. That’s not okay in any form, even if it is directed towards me.

My book plops onto the floor in perfect sync with his limp body hitting the mattress. Now he’s been hit in the head three times.

I’d honestly be pretty satisfied at this point if he lost his memory. Maybe some new experiences could make him a better person. I glance over at his perfectly still body, relieved that the heart monitor is still happily beeping in rhythm.

It could at least make him nicer.