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his
hands.  I knew some place in my head that I could trust him, but I was foggy
and it wasn’t all making sense.
    “Scout,
you still here?”
    I
nodded my head again, and opened my mouth to say something only my throat hurt
so badly, I flinched.
    “You’re
throat?” He guessed and I nodded.  “Need a drink?” I nodded again.  He looked
over his shoulder and asked someone for a drink of water.  It was starting to
be less fuzzy and realized I was acting ridiculous, this was Simon.  I let my
body relax back into the bed.
    Kale
walked into the room carrying a glass of water. I held my hand out for it and
slightly sat up gulping the entire thing down, my meds always left me thirsty.
    “Another?”
    I
nodded yes and laid back down, I was so tired.  I looked over at Simon, he wore
that look that I had gotten to know so well, this one was not minor.  I
realized at that moment that my hands hurt and arms stung.  I looked down and
saw the scratch marks on my arms, and my fingernails had blood under and around
them.  I looked over and found Simon watching me, “How bad?”  I asked hoarsely.
    “Just
your arms this time.” He replied sadly.
    I
nodded and stared at the ceiling until Kale came back with more water.
    “Was
it the voicemail?”  Simon asked quietly.  I rolled to my side and closed my
eyes, the tears slipped out as if they had a will of their own; I nodded once.
    He
sighed and I felt the bed dip, he knew enough not to actually touch me though. 
“He won’t come near you, Scout.”
    I
nodded again and felt the pull of sleep; this time I kindly let it take me.

 
     
    Chapter
6
    We
had been summoned to the principal’s office, or that’s what it felt like, when
we were called and told we had to meet with the producer for a meeting.  I had
a feeling I knew what it was all about, but I still wasn’t working on all
cylinders at this point.   I never expected to see who I did sitting there in
the office waiting.  I stopped mid stride and stared at Father Dearest, trying
to work out why he would be here, then it hit me because it was his shop.  Simon
put his hand on my shoulder and gently guided me to the farthest seat from him
and the person that was sitting beside him.
    Once
seated, I took a deep breath trying to keep my emotions in control. I’d been
taught breathing exercises by different therapists, sometimes they helped, but
not so much this time.  My hands fisted and I could feel myself beginning to
break out in a cold sweat, but I refused to let him see me break.  So instead
of looking at him I stared toward the producer, Marc, and waited for this to be
over with.  Simon reached out and uncurled my fingers, forcing them straight
and blood flow to come back.  I looked up at him and gave a nervous smile, he
linked hands with me giving me a small squeeze and focused on Marc also.
    “Well
it seems we have a small issue that needs to be cleared up,” Marc started as
soon as everyone was seated.  “It appears that Ms. Lewis here seems to have an
issue with Mr. Dyson.”
    I
bit back a snort, an issue? Really? What I had against Mr. Dyson was a
restraining order.
    “So
Ms. Lewis what do we need to do, to make all this work?  Hmm?”
    I
stared at the idiot sitting in front of me, trying to figure out if he was
serious, make this work?  I did not see that happening anytime soon.  Instead
of answering I just stared at him, which caused him to fidget and then look
down at the papers in front of him.
    A
voice I hadn’t heard since I was fifteen chose that moment to speak up, “Marc,
now why should my team be penalized for Scout’s issues?”
    I
looked towards him and glared my issues?  He wouldn’t know a damn thing about
my issues.  Marc cleared his throat and I looked back towards him.
    “Well
I understand your feelings on this, Ace, and I would love to work out a
solution so both teams can compete, with their original members.” He stated
looking at me meaningful.
    “Hold
on,