“I’m used to it,” I blurted out. “Don’t worry about it; it’s fine.” I closed my locker and turned around.

“Are you sure you don’t—” Sara started.

“I’m all right. Thanks for the help.”

I turned and made my way down the hall to the nearest bathroom. I splashed some water on my face, but still the blood wouldn’t cease. I got some paper towels and tried covering my cut, but it got soaked in a matter of seconds, so I had to repeat the process three more times until I finally got the bleeding under control.

“What the hell?” Ethan said the moment he walked in and saw the bits of white paper soaked in blood covering most of the sink.

“Hey,” I said, splashing water on my face yet again.

“What happened?” he asked, quickly approaching me. He put one hand on my shoulder and the other over my forehead.

Fuck, this feels nice.

“Some girl opened her locker on me.”

“What?”

“Yeah, like, on me,” I said, pointing at my face.

“Jesus, how hard did she open it?”

“She was arguing with some other girl. I think I stood up too fast or some—” I stopped as soon as he got closer.

“Arguing?”

“I—I dunno.” I shook my head.

“There,” he said, making me tip my head back. “Just stay like this for a bit.”

I didn’t know if it was the hangover, coupled with the fact that I’d just been run over by a locker, but I got lightheaded the very instant I leaned my head back. So I grabbed hold of his jacket, making a fist and preventing myself from tumbling back.

He quickly grabbed me by the waist. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

“Not really. This is one of those rotating bathrooms, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, we should take you to the infirmary, just so—”

“No!” I said firmly. “I hit my head; it’s no big deal.”

“Dizziness is not a good thing to experience after hitting your head though.”

“Sure, but I’m hungover as fuck, so who’s to say why you’re spinning? Just gimme a minute.”

He smiled, then adjusted his grip and pulled me closer. I swear, it felt so fucking good having him breathing on my neck, I almost passed out. I hadn’t noticed how he was taller than me. We hadn’t stood close enough to each other for me to realize it, and come to think of it, I didn’t think that was the kind of thing I should be noticing at that precise moment.

“Do you have a jacket?” he asked gently.

“My brother forgot his, so I gave mine to him.”

“What about an extra T-shirt? Do you have one?”

“No, why?”

“There’s blood on yours.”

“Where?” I quickly tried to stand up straight so as to look down.