Becoming Alpha

Home > Paranormal > Becoming Alpha > Page 8
Becoming Alpha Page 8

by Aileen Erin


  It was humiliating the way everything always went wrong for me. I lay back down and Mom tucked me in.

  “We will talk about this after you get some rest.” She kissed my forehead and left my room.

  The next time my eyes opened, the clock read 1:56 PM. Mom was back in my room, sitting on the bed with her hand to my forehead. A million of her unasked questions slammed into me. She wanted to know what happened, who did this, and why. But she was mostly worried about me and angry that someone had hurt me. Angry was the wrong word. She was furious.

  “It’s really high,” she said to Dad who was standing over us. “Definitely over 100.”

  He raked his fingers down his face, and then patted Mom on the back. “We’re going to take you to the hospital, Tess.”

  Dad left my room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Mom grabbed a pair of jeans from my closet. I sat up and picked up my bra from on top of the comforter.

  “Don’t worry about the bra. It’ll only make your shoulder worse.” She crossed her arms. “You ready to talk?”

  I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “Not really.” I didn’t know if I’d ever be ready. It was too embarrassing. Only Tessa McCaide would have to get stitches because of a kiss.

  “It was a boy at the party?”

  God. She wasn’t going to let it go.

  I nodded.

  “He can’t get away with this. Tessa.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Did he do anything else to you? Hurt you—”

  My face burned. “Jeez, Mom. No. He kissed me and got a little carried away. I don’t know how he did that to my shoulder. He must have had something in his hand or I dunno…”

  “Sweetie. They’re deep. There’s no way it wasn’t on purpose.” She sat back down on the bed, putting her face on my level, so that I was forced to look her in the eyes. “We’re going to have talk to your principal about this. Get a meeting with the boy’s parents. He could have really hurt you. What if he does this or something worse to another girl?”

  The thought of Dastien with another girl made me monumentally pissed off. I tried to rein my anger in, but my shoulder burned, deeper into my arm and torso.

  Somewhere underneath it I knew I was losing my mind over a boy who hurt me. “I don’t want to make a huge deal out of this. It’s fine. Really. It wasn’t even one of the guys from school.”

  She crossed her arms. “If it wasn’t someone from school, then who was it?”

  Perfect. She thought I was trying to lie to her. “Dastien,” I whispered. Saying his name felt equal parts relief and betrayal.

  “Madre Santa. The teacher from St. Ailbe’s?” She sucked in her breath. “Teresa Elizabeth McCaide!”

  And now she’d used my full name. Only I could manage to get in trouble for being hurt.

  “I hope this doesn’t mean…” She paused for a second, and my heart started to pound. “We’re going to have to talk to Michael Dawson when we get back from the emergency room. This could be really bad, Tess.”

  That was so not cool. “Mom. Seriously. It’s fine.”

  “No. It’s really not. You’re a minor.”

  “Only for like a few more weeks! And he’s only two years older than me. That’s like nothing. Let’s not make a national disaster out of this. He was really nice. I’m not even sure how it happened. He seemed pretty shocked. He apologized and everything.” I don’t know why I was defending him.

  Mom sat there quietly, waiting for me to continue.

  It wasn’t embarrassment anymore. I was mad. Furious even. Those people at the party had been flat out rude to me. For no reason. It wasn’t even something I could blame on my weirdness. I was physically hurt, bleeding, and they kicked me out. Not even an “are you okay” or “do you need some ice for that” before they shoved me out the door.

  I willed myself not to cry. “I wanted to have friends and go to parties like everyone else. Not be Freaky Tessa who sits at home on the weekends reading books and watching TV with her parents. Begging her brother to hang out with her.”

  Mom sat down next to me, holding my good side. “I know it’s hard, but you’re here for a reason. You have to have faith in God and in yourself. If there is anything I’m sure of, it’s that you’re meant to do something great with your gifts.”

  I snorted. “Right. Because these ‘gifts’ are so useful for oh, I don’t know, nothing.”

  She kissed my forehead, and her guilt surged through me before she could block it.

  I felt like a real jerk for not being nicer about what she said. But I couldn’t get my hopes up that one day I’d find my curse was useful.

  “This is my fault. I’ve kept you away from my side of the family for too long. You are meant for something.”

  What the hell was she talking about?

  “I have something to tell you later. First, let’s get you to the hospital.” She started for the door.

  “Mom,” I called after her. “I’m sorry. Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “Anything for my baby.”

  I’d make it up to her. Tomorrow. When my shoulder wasn’t hurting so bad. Sliding on my sweatpants and flip-flops took all the energy I could muster.

  I was so out of it that I nearly forgot my gloves. Number one place I didn’t want to have a vision: the emergency room. Talk about a minefield of pain and drama. I grabbed a pair of white cotton ones that stopped halfway to my elbow.

  Axel was waiting with my parents at the door by the time I got down the stairs.

  “Ready?” Dad’s arms were still folded in front of his chest. No hint of a smile on his face.

  “Yeah, but I’m feeling a little—” Gray dots filled my vision. Then, there was nothing.

  Chapter Ten

  The car bounced over the gravel road, but I couldn’t muster the energy to lift my head. It took a second to make my eyes open. “What happened?” I was lying across the backseat in Dad’s SUV.

  “You fainted, sweetheart.” Mom brushed my hair out of my face. “We’re almost to the hospital.”

  “That’s good, I guess.” A cold drop of sweat rolled down my forehead. My mom’s face spun in my vision, and I had to close my eyes to keep from throwing up.

  When the car jerked to a stop, I nearly rolled off the seat.

  “Dad’s going to carry you inside.”

  The world tilted as he lifted me into his arms. Mom walked ahead of us to the front desk. The nurse stood as Mom started rattling off information. “My daughter has a very high fever. And we think she has infected scratches on her shoulder.”

  The nurse gave my mom a bored look as she snapped her gum. “How did your daughter get these scratches?”

  “She was at a party last night, and a teacher from St. Ailbe’s—”

  The nurse’s mouth fell open, and a ball of wet gum plopped onto the desk.

  Gross.

  She picked up the phone. “Stand by for a possible Code Black.” The nurse slammed the receiver down, grabbed a clipboard, and ran around the counter. “Follow me.”

  Code Black? Code Blue was what they said on TV when someone was dying. Code Black better not mean death. Because if I died from one measly kiss, I was going to freak out.

  My nausea was back with a vengeance. I leaned my head into my father’s shoulder. He smelled like a juicy steak.

  A steak? Really, Tessa?

  I was already kinda crazy, but this fever was making me full-on insane-o.

  “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah, Dad. Just a little queasy.” And by little, I meant on the verge of hurling.

  “Hang on for one more minute. Almost there.”

  I closed my eyes and my sense of smell strengthened. Disinfectant stung my nostrils. Someone must have gone overboard with the bleach.

  That was enough of overbearing smells for this girl. I tugged the top of my shirt over my nose.

  Mom put the back of her hand to my forehead. “You hanging in there?”

  “Yup.” Barely. “Where’s Ax
el?”

  “Don’t worry about him.”

  Oh, no. That didn’t sound good. What was Axel up to? I hoped he wasn’t chasing down Dastien.

  Dad set me down on the bed as the nurse slid the privacy curtains along the rail, hiding us from view. She snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. That sound made me antsy. Any time plastic gloves were involved, things were not going to be fun.

  The nurse grabbed an electric thermometer from the small counter, and slid a plastic protector on the tip. “Do your ears hurt?” she said.

  “No.” Was she dense? What did a shoulder scratch have to do with my ears?

  She shoved the thermometer in my right one. A screeching beep sliced into my head, and I jerked away from her.

  Maybe they did hurt? I stuck my finger in my ear and wiggled, trying to get the sound out of my head. “Can you turn the volume down on that?”

  The nurse gave me an “are you nuts” look and then stuck the thermometer back in my ear. “Hold still.”

  I ground my teeth as a digital beeping pierced my eardrums.

  “Don’t let this be what I think it is,” she said so softly I could barely hear her.

  What was her major malfunction? Weren’t nurses supposed to have seen it all and be calm in emergencies?

  With a final series of screeching beeps, she glanced at the readout and cleared her throat. “108.”

  “That’s not right. She’d be dead if it were that high,” Mom said.

  The nurse grunted and searched a nearby tray. “I need to see the scratches.”

  “Who cares about the scratches? She has a fever of 108! Get a doctor,” Dad said. He was standing guard at the end of the bed. He was so pissed that he was nearly vibrating with it.

  “Sir, it’d be best if you could calm down.”

  Oh no she didn’t.

  Mom put a restraining hand on Dad as he stepped toward the nurse. “She’s just doing her job.”

  The nurse cleared her throat. She had to know she’d stepped in it with her comment. “The doctor is aware of her situation and is waiting on my assessment.”

  Nope. She was an idiot. “I’m fine, Dad. Feeling much better. See.” I smiled. He didn’t smile back. I must’ve looked worse than I felt.

  Mom sighed. “They’re on the back of her left shoulder.”

  The nurse reached toward a tray of pointy objects. The metallic clang as she looked through them made me shake. I bet there were needles on that tray.

  “Please, stay calm. I’m only going to cut your shirt a little bit.”

  I tried, but with each snip of the scissors, my chest got a little bit tighter. She was going to say I needed stitches. I just knew it. My hands were so sweaty that the soft jersey gloves stuck to my skin. The stink of the nurse’s fear made me even more anxious.

  Wait. I could smell her fear?

  I sniffed the air. It reeked like someone had poured cheap perfume over rotting fruit. Something inside of me knew that smell was fear, even if I had no rational explanation for it.

  She pulled my shirt away from my shoulder, and started ripping off the band-aids. She gasped and the scissors clunked to the ground.

  I looked over my shoulder. The nurse’s plump, rosy cheeks had gone sheet white. “What? What is it? What’s wrong with my shoulder?” I glanced at Mom, but she only shrugged.

  The nurse backed out of the room and didn’t turn away from us until she was halfway down the hall. Her clogs clunked on the floor as she started to run.

  Forcing myself to take slower, deeper breaths, I gathered up the courage and twisted until I could see it. The cuts weren’t bleeding anymore. They were an angry red and didn’t have scabs yet, but puss wasn’t seeping from them. “It doesn’t look that bad. Why is she freaking out?”

  My dad leaned down to brush a kiss over my forehead. “I don’t know, honey.” He peeked at the cuts. “How did you say you got those cuts again?”

  A doctor in his white lab coat came into our makeshift room before I could answer.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Schel.” He was tall and thin, with dark circles under his eyes. Someone was overworked. He slid the curtain closed behind him. “Nurse Tilden filled me in, but I’m sure she must be misunderstanding something. I need to see the scratches on your back, if that’s alright.” He frowned. “And what’s that on your lip?”

  “It’s a bite,” I answered as softly as I could manage. My cheeks burned. I could never look my father in the eyes again. Never. Again.

  Dr. Schel walked around the bed. The sound of his throat clearing startled me. He suddenly smelled just like the nurse.

  “I’ve never seen scratches quite like those. How exactly did you get them?”

  This was beyond mortifying. I couldn’t say in front of Dad. Especially if Mom hadn’t already spilled the beans.

  “I’m sure you won’t get in any trouble. Right?” Dr. Schel looked at Dad.

  “Of course she’s not in trouble. She’s hurt.” Dad came to stand in front of me and patted my leg. “Go ahead. He’s here to help, but you have to tell the truth.”

  “I never lie, Dad.” He stared me down until I started talking. Still, I couldn’t tell him that it was a teacher, even if he was only a couple years older than me. “I was kissing a guy who used to go to St. Ailbe’s—”

  Dr. Schel held up his hand. “You’re absolutely sure that he was connected with St. Ailbe’s?”

  “Yes, but—” I stopped talking as the doctor took a slow step away from me. What was wrong with this place? He jerked his gaze to the floor and cleared his throat again. The stink of fear increased, radiating from him. I wanted to plug my nose, but that would’ve been rude.

  “Unfortunately, it seems the nurse wasn’t misunderstanding anything. I’m sorry, but we’re not going to be able to help you here,” he said.

  “What do you mean you’re not going to be able to help her? This is a hospital, for Christ’s sake!” Dad’s face had gone red and his fists were clenched.

  “There’s nothing I can do for her. That anyone can do for her,” he said.

  “Of course there’s something you can do for her. She has a fever of 108, goddamn it. She needs some antibiotics for whatever infection is giving her the fever. And some more Tylenol and fluids. Even I know this shit and I’m not a damn doctor!”

  “I’m sorry. I truly am. But no doctor can fix what’s wrong with your daughter.”

  What did he mean no doctor could fix me?

  He held up his hands to stop us from moving. “Please. Please, wait here. Stay calm. I promise you that she’s fine for the moment. I’m going to get someone who can help you. A specialist.” He took some hurried backward steps and slid to the other side of the curtain.

  Dad suddenly walked around the bed and stared at my back.

  “Dad?”

  “Oh, Christ Almighty.”

  I twisted to look at him.

  “You’re sure that it was someone from St. Ailbe’s that did this?”

  I nodded.

  “It was Dastien, the teacher that came to the house the day we got here,” Mom said.

  Dad cursed again. “With what, Tessa? What did he scratch you with!”

  My heart was racing. I’d never seen Dad so pissed. “I don’t know. His hand?”

  Dad cursed up a storm, knocking the tray next to my bed to the ground. The sound had him freezing. He stood there, facing the curtain, breathing heavily.

  “Dad?” I waited, but he didn’t say anything. “Dad?”

  “Stay calm, John. If there’s a chance this is what we think…just stay calm. It’s early. We caught it. There has to be a way out of it.”

  It was like he couldn’t even hear us. Dad paced back and forth in the tiny area next to the bed, but he wouldn’t speak a word.

  I tried not to freak out—Dad was freaking out enough for both of us—but everything smelled too strongly. It was almost as if I could taste my parents’ growing anger and frustration. It was too much. The world started to spin again.<
br />
  My whole body trembled. It felt like I was lying on hot coals. “Mom.” It came out a whisper.

  She held my hand. “I’m right here, baby.”

  “I feel like I’m on fire.”

  Mom dug through cupboards and found a cream colored plastic pitcher. “Get her some ice and a bottle of water.”

  Dad left without a word.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dad still wasn’t speaking by the time Dr. Schel came back with another man. I didn’t have to look up to know who the man was. I watched the floor as he walked toward me in that graceful, soundless way. I took a breath and glanced up at him. His eerie hazel eyes bored through me. I had to stop myself from squirming under his gaze. Mom patted my glove-covered arm.

  What was he doing here?

  “This is Michael Dawson. He’s the head of St. Ailbe’s Acad—”

  “I know damn well who he is.”

  The doctor stepped back out of Dad’s way. Probably a smart decision.

  “What in the hell did that boy do to my daughter?”

  “I’m so sorry, John. I warned her—”

  “Bullshit you did. Don’t give me that crap like it’s an excuse.” Dad raked his fingers through his hair. “You will not blame this on my daughter. Her life is ruined. Ruined!”

  “John!” Mom said. “Not yet. We don’t know anything for sure yet.”

  I cleared my throat. “Why is my life ruined exactly?” They ignored me.

  “I can help her,” Mr. Dawson said. “It won’t be the end for her.”

  The end? Holy shit, this sounded bad.

  Dad blocked Mr. Dawson’s way as he tried to look at my shoulder.

  “Let me look. I have to confirm it. It’ll only take a second. If it’s shallow or small, it won’t be enough to turn her.”

  Dad stepped in Mr. Dawson’s space. “I don’t give a shit about this job. Someone hurts my girl, they pay. Understood?”

  “Perfectly. No matter what this is, we will make it right.” Mr. Dawson didn’t back down, but he didn’t get mad either. He had some major cojones to stay calm while facing Dad’s anger.

  “You’ve got exactly thirty seconds,” Dad said.

  Mr. Dawson walked toward me. I tried to retreat, shaking. He stopped and held his hands up. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t even touch you. I promise. I’m only going to look.”

 

‹ Prev