#thread: 09

He woke slowly, his eyes fluttering. It felt like he had just gone through a hurricane, and every nerve in his body woke up with a jolt. He winced, looking down to see his arm stitched up. Why was he there? Wes could barely remember anything for a moment. He touched his head slowly, wincing again as he felt pain near his temple. If he moved his body too much, he felt a intense pain on his side, making him grumble quietly. By the second, he became even more curious. He hated hospitals, really, and he wanted to get the hell out of there. After he was clear to go, he wanted out. 

Turning his head slowly, he saw a figure laying down on the nearby lounge. Sara. It was then that he remembered what happened, between their fight and him riding off into the night. Flashes of the accident rushed through his mind, and he remembered what an idiot he was. Wes was surprised he was still alive at the speed he had been going. It was the fastest he had ever gone in his life, way beyond any speed limit. For a second, he really did believe in luck. What he didn’t understand was why she was there. Last night, she said that she never wanted to see him again. Was she here to pity him? Regardless, he was just glad that he wasn’t alone. Trying to sit up a little, he groaned at the pain on his side. He was really trying not to wake her, but he couldn’t help it. Wes was able to feel everything on his body, but his side and his arm still hurt. His head tinged a little as well, but it wasn’t too excruciating. Still not comfortable, he lay defeated and guilty, looking over at the sleeping beauty.

Katrina had a feeling that her first night back at rehearsals was going to be an eventful and awkward one. The last time she had gone, she had left crying. She had felt so awful and unwanted there that it had sent her back to her apartment sobbing and feeling so alone. That is, until her boyfriend showed up and comforted her. Not only that, but he took her home, the place she felt most comfortable. It was the best thing he could’ve given her. But they couldn’t run away from their problems anymore. Coming back was inevitable. That included going back to dance rehearsals.

Arriving at the studio, she walked inside. Dressed in her leotard with her hair up, she carried her shoes in with her. Most of the girls looked at her but made no remarks. It was almost as if the coach had noticed the tension before and warned them to not continue the drama. Putting her shoes on quickly, she stood in line with the other dancers to begin warm-ups. She kept quiet and followed instructions the whole time, not wanting to say a word to anyone unless prompted. Katrina enjoyed how she could just get lost in the music like before, and it liberated her. It felt like she was returning to herself.