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I could shower when I got home.
Right now, I needed to get the fuck out of this place before I blew a head gasket.
There were too many assholes in my close proximity, McGarry and Ryan to be precise, and I didn’t trust myself.
Ironically, the lyrics of the song Stuck in the Middle drifted into my mind.
Shaking the thought away, I concentrated on packing up my bag.
When I had everything loaded into my gear bag, I left the changing room without a word to my teammates.
Thankfully, Gibsie didn’t follow me.
I had my bag loaded into the backseat of my car and was rounding the driver's side when a sudden pang of uncertainty hit me in the gut.
Was she okay?
Should I go back and check on her?
No, she was probably gone home.
I should go home.
But what if she wasn’t?
You don’t have time for this, asshole, my brain hissed, you have a PT session in an hour.
Shaking my head, I opened my car door only to quickly slam it shut and stalk back into the school.
You're just going to check on her, make sure she's okay, and then get the fuck out of there, I told myself as I walked through the school to the girls' bathroom. There's nothing wrong with that.
But there was.
There was something seriously wrong with this picture.
I was standing outside the girls' bathroom, waiting on a girl to come out who might not be in there to begin with.
I was as bad as McGarry.
Disgusted with myself, I turned to leave.
I made it five feet before retracing my steps back to the bleeding bathroom.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I was deep in thought, fighting an internal battle with my conscience, when the bathroom door flew open and a tiny wisp of a girl came rushing out and crashed straight into my chest.
The minute my eyes landed on her, I knew I was in trouble.
You should have gone home while you could, eejit, my mind hissed, there's no leaving now.
Wasn’t that the truth.