𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑: 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
Be grateful for every moment that you can still breathe properly through your nose because you don't know when you'll lose that privilege.
Alaina woke up regretting not being more grateful. The morning welcomed her with a stuffy nose and a fever. Being drenched in cold water wearing a dress in the middle of October resulted in becoming sick the next day. This was the price she paid for rescuing Damon, not even earning a single word of gratitude for saving his life. She lied in her bed, staring at the ceiling calmly before violently kicking away the covers.
"Ungrateful jerk," she groaned, rolling to the side and forcing herself into a sitting position.
She lazily left her bed, trudging over to the kitchen to grab herself some medicine. It took about five tries of blowing her nose until she could breathe again, so she grabbed an extra box of tissues for her room. Clearly, she was not in a well enough state to attend school, so after making a quick call, she ended up walking herself back to bed, rolling back into the warmth of her covers. She wanted to go back to sleep so she could ignore the dryness in her throat and the struggle to breathe.
On the other hand, Damon couldn't be better. In fact, he woke up bright and early. He had something special to do. He had the volleyball court covered in bubble wrap, knowing Alaina so often liked to come in early and practice. From the floor to the walls, to the ceiling. The net, the balls, the bleachers. Any and every step taken, wouldn't be without the large and loud pops echoing beneath them. He snickered to himself as he watched the gym from the flat screen in the lounge, awaiting the moment she'd come in, just picturing her reaction.
"He's been giggling like this all morning," Brendan sighed, looking over at Damon.
"You know, I think this is the first time I've seen him work so hard at anything," Cordie observed, taking her coffee mug to her lips.
"Why, of all things, does it have to be tormenting that poor girl?" he pondered, shaking his head.
Cordie tilted her head. "And on top of that, if you think about it, isn't she kinda his savior?"
"He's repaying her with more enemy behavior."
Damon looked back at them. "What do you mean 'enemy'? This is all a show of my gratitude. Why else would I go through the effort to plan something so amateur?" he insisted, somehow making sense of it in his head. "She should be thankful I'm doing something within her privacy instead of broadcasting this all over the school like before," he justified.
"If she's anything like a normal person, I doubt she'll be thankful after being put through another scheme of yours," Brendan explained.
"Be quiet," Damon whined. "Since Chris isn't here, are you going to be the righteous one now?" He kept his eyes on the screen.
Brendan furrowed his brow at the unnecessary hostility. "That reminds me, where'd he go off to?"
Cordie shrugged, taking another sip. "Not sure, but Chris was being kind of moody after the party."