You Said I Was Your Favorite (A Lancaster Prep Novel)
You Said I Was Your Favorite: Chapter 42

I’ve been up since six—unheard of for me. I can’t get what happened between Daisy and me last night out of my mind. I can’t get her out of my head, not that I want to, but fuck.

I’m obsessed.

The sound of her voice, the taste of her mouth, her skin, her pussy…

Having sex with her for the first time was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. All of the sexual encounters with Daisy feel different. It’s like I care more. It means more.

Shit, I am in love with her. Helplessly, completely in love with her.

I’ve already taken a shower and ate a protein bar. Again, completely unheard of for me. I’m eagerly waiting for Daisy to come out of her house, still lingering in my room and staring at the cottage through my window. It’s getting late. First period is going to start any minute and I’m dressed and ready to go for once in my life.

Looks like waiting for Daisy is going to actually make me late.

This is a first.

When she still hasn’t come out and there’s literally three minutes before the bell rings, I’m texting her, pissed at myself for waiting this long.

Me: Are you okay?

Two freaking minutes pass and she finally answers me.

Daze: Can you take me somewhere?

I don’t even hesitate.

Me: Where?

Daze: Come pick me up please. My dad is already gone.

I leave my room and sprint over to Daisy’s place, ready to barge right in when she opens the front door, surprising me. She’s not in her uniform. She’s wearing dark gray sweatpants and a big black hoodie with the hood completely covering her head. Like I can’t even see her eyes or nose, just her mouth.

“Daze?”

She opens the door wider. “Come in.”

I walk inside the house, glancing around the room, unable to shake the weird feeling creeping over me. Something’s wrong.

I can sense it.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I demand as soon as she approaches me.

With shaky fingers, she reaches up and tugs the hood back, revealing her face.

With jagged cuts all over it.

“What the fuck, Daisy? What happened to you?” I reach for her, my touch gentle as I carefully cup her cheeks and examine her face with my gaze. The biggest cut is on her cheekbone and it looks deep, but not deep enough for stitches. I don’t think. There’s a tiny butterfly bandage on it, keeping the wound together, but it still looks like it’s bleeding.

“A vase broke last night,” she says, her voice flat. “I cut myself.”

“You broke the vase?”

She nods.

“How? What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She lifts one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug, staring off into space like she’s not even paying attention to me.

Or anything.

Fear ripples through me and I drop my hands from her face, stepping back. “Where do you want me to take you?”

“To the doctor. That urgent care in town? Maybe they can help me.”

“You don’t want to see the nurse on campus?”

Daisy shakes her head. “I don’t want to answer her questions.”

What the hell?

“I’ll take you,” I say firmly.

“We’ll have to miss class.”

“I don’t care.”

She waves a hand at me. “Do you want to change out of your uniform?”

“It’s fine. Come on, let’s go. I’m worried about you.”

She lets me take her hand and lead her out of the house, and we stop by my room to grab my car keys. I end up getting rid of my jacket and tie and pull on a sweatshirt, my movements hurried, my brain scrambling.

Something is definitely up, and I wish she would just tell me what it is. I watch her out of the corner of my eye and she’s not paying any attention to me. She just stands there quietly, her eyes glazed over, her movements slow. Almost as if her arms and legs are weighted down and it’s freaking me the fuck out.

Daisy isn’t acting right. At all.

We’re in my car and halfway to town when she finally murmurs, “I should call Vivian and tell her we’re not going to be at school today.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure her, reaching out to settle my hand on her knee. She flinches at my touch and I immediately remove my hand, confused at her reaction. Her mood. Something is definitely wrong, but she’s not talking.

She’s not listening either.

I try to concentrate on the road, but I can’t help trying to sneak looks at her every few minutes. She stares straight ahead, her expression blank, her skin pale, the red jagged cuts standing out. A million questions run through my head, but I can’t work up the nerve to ask her, too worried over what she might say.

Or what she might not say. I don’t know what’s freakier.

We finally arrive at the urgent care clinic in the town closest to campus, and the moment I park the car, Daisy opens the passenger door and walks right out, not saying a word. I scramble to grab my keys and follow her out, walking right past her to open the door to the building. She enters and makes her way to the front desk and I hover behind as she speaks to the receptionist. Hating how the woman eyes me suspiciously, like I’m the reason all of those cuts are on Daisy’s face.

This is fucking killing me. The not knowing, the suspicion that’s being cast upon me.

I’m just trying to support Daisy during her time of need. It’s like she’s purposely keeping me in the dark and I don’t get why. I deserve to know what’s going on. I don’t buy her story that she did this to herself. What changed between her going home last night and her texting me this morning? Did she get into a fight with her dad?

Alarm fills me. Did her father do this to her?

No. Ralph is a good guy. A calm, nice guy. He wouldn’t harm a hair on Daisy’s head. He loves her.

“I need to fill this out.” Daisy clutches a clipboard in her hands with a bunch of forms clipped on it and I follow her to the waiting area, both of us settling into chairs right next to each other.

While she fills out the forms, I’m texting with the attendance office at school, letting them know I’m out with Daisy and I took her to the doctor. Of course, the lady who works in the office told me I can’t excuse Daisy, that she’ll have to call in, and I said I’d have her call soon.

Road blocks all morning, I swear.

It takes Daisy forever to fill out the forms and finally she gives them to the receptionist and we wait some more. My girl remains quiet, unfocused, reaching up to touch her cheek every couple of minutes, wincing. The cut on her cheekbone looks worse than I thought and maybe she will need stitches.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, leaning in close so I can murmur into her ear.

She pulls away a little, like she needs the distance. “Yeah. I didn’t even realize how bad it was until I woke up this morning.”

“Why?” Tell me, Daze. What happened?

“I did something stupid.” She shakes her head, her gaze lifting to mine, and fuck, there are tears shining in her eyes. “I got mad.”

“Mad at who, baby?” I touch the side of her head, my fingers tangling in her hair and this time she doesn’t pull away.

“My dad.” She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Myself.”

“What happened?”

“Daisy Albright?”

We both glance over at the woman in dark pink scrubs with a file clutched in her hand, holding the door open that leads to the examination rooms.

“That’s me,” Daisy says weakly as she stands up.

“Come on back, hon,” the nurse chirps cheerfully.

“Want me to go with you?” I ask.

Daisy shakes her head, smiling down at me. “No. I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“You can leave if you want. There’s a good coffee shop down the road.”

“I’m staying,” I say firmly.

“Okay.”

I watch her walk across the waiting area and through the door the nurse keeps open for her, my heart panging the moment the door slams shut. I glance over at the receptionist who greeted us, catching her watching me, and she looks away hurriedly.

Damn it, I hope like hell she doesn’t think I hurt Daisy. Does that chick recognize me? I am a fucking Lancaster, which right now isn’t working to my advantage at all.

Lancasters don’t go to the local urgent care to take care of their medical emergencies. We have private doctors and top of the line insurance coverage because money isn’t a factor. We can afford whatever we need and a Lancaster always gets the best medical care.

I have zero experience in situations like this. I’ve never been to a chintzy urgent care like this before in my life. What am I supposed to do?

How am I supposed to act?

Leaning back in the chair, I kick my legs out, watching the mother sitting across from me holding a fussy toddler. The old man sitting in the next row of chairs over, his head hanging, mouth partially open.

Pretty sure he’s asleep.

Reaching into the front pocket of my hoodie, I find my AirPods case, and I slip them into my ears, turning on some music.

Tuning out the world.

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