Clay decided to not inform his family about the incident. One of the reasons being that his parents went on vacation and he didn't want to ruin it for them, and the other being how worried her sister would be if she found out.

That meant one thing. I had to stay at his place and do everything the doctor told should be done. And maybe a bit more than that. I had to try my best to keep the house in a normal condition, as one of the main things he had to do was remain a pretty much motionless state until the symptoms would disappear. My only goal is to not turn the place into a trashcan.

I know he's the one who got a concussion and it was understandable in his case to forget things, but I somehow managed to completely forget about Nick and George. And when I remembered about my abandoned phone and went to check it, unsurprisingly I had tons of notifications.

"Oh.. Did the boys text you?" I didn't dare to open my messages and just turned my attention to Clay, who was just lying on his bed.

"Oh shit- forgot to unmute them," he widened his eyes, trying to reach for his phone, but I was quicker to grab it and hand it in, "wait, why are there so many notifications?"

I think I should probably tell him now.

"Uhm.. I kinda freaked out on my way to your place.. and like, panic-texted Nick. About the whole thing," I nervously bit the inside of my cheek, "not the whole thing, no.. I just told him you crashed the car without further explanation."

Sighing, he probably opened his texts, as his attention got drawn to the screen. And I decided to open mine.

haha you're so funny liz

he's fine, he's on half a heart

I'm so funny

wait are you serious?

why aren't you responding?

WAIT LEGIT??

This wasn't as bad as I imagined it would be. At least that's what I thought before opening George's messages.

is Nick trolling again?

wait he isn't

WHAT THE HELL IS ACTUALLY WRONG WITH YOU BOTH ANSWER MY GODDAMN CALLS BEFORE I GET A FUCKING TICKET AND FLY TO FLORIDA

I looked at Clay's face expressions to understand how bad the situation was in his phone. And judging by his face, I understood one thing. The idiot had a concussion.

"Give me the phone." I sighed, realizing that I shouldn't have let him try to read in the first place. He's not even allowed to use his phone that much. And he looked so confused.

I like how obedient he is today. He didn't even think twice before handing me the phone - which meant one thing. Either he trusted me too much, or he was simply not even capable of thinking twice. Or I guess both.

The texts Nick sent weren't alarming at all. And by "texts" I mean the single text he sent.

u dead?

That's it. That's literally all he had to say to friend that could be in a horrific condition. And to me, that just screamed "Nick".

The picture was different in George's chat. I didn't even bother to read all 30 separate paragraphs he sent with all upper case letters. And the funny thing about those texts was that instead of asking if Clay was okay, George chose to scream at him for not answering.

"We need to call them." As much as I was feeling antisocial at that moment, I still understood the consequences of not contacting them.

"You do it." Clay frowned.

A few minutes of my life were spent on texting both George and Nick about the details, telling them that nothing too serious happened and just trying to say things that would calm them down in general. But the problem here was that none of them answered.

In George's case, not answering was just an indication of him being asleep. It was pretty late for him, so I didn't worry that much. But Nick probably wasn't even asleep, so I tried to call.

I think his phone was turned off or there were some problems with the connection. Either way, I couldn't contact him at the moment.

Maybe it's better to wait in this case and call George when he's awake.

"Lizzy, I'm dizzy," Clay's voice interrupted my thought process, "haha, that rhymed."

"Clay, just lay," yes, I did that on purpose, "haha, that rhymed as well."

It was adorable how that made him let out a genuine laugh.

"Are you challenging me to a rap battle?" He tried to raise a brow, but flinched, realizing that the stitches hurt.

"Your concussed brain isn't allow to think, so no." Realizing that I was just standing in the middle of his room the whole time, I decided to finally lie down beside him.

I slightly traced the skin exposed around the bandage, careful to not put any pressure. But surprisingly he snuggled closer to my touch, changing his position from on his back to his side. Clay propped himself up on his elbow, looking at my face.

At first I didn't mind, but as I realized it was going on for more than 10 seconds already, it started to bother me.

"What?" I frowned, but it soon got turned into a smile. I hope I wasn't blushing, I'd be disgusted with myself.

"Feels good when you touch me."

I know he was referring to my fingertips on his forehead, but there was still something wrong with that sentence. It sent my brain to a completely different dimension.

"Well now I'm not doing it," I pulled my hand away, "that sounded creepy."

"But the doctor told me to get lots of cuddles for a fast recovery." He was barely holding back a laughter from his own cheesy words.

"Oh really?" I laughed, "What else did the doctor say?"

Seeing that I didn't mind his offers at all, he scooted closer to me, back to his usual baby state - head on my chest and arms around my torso.

"He also told me that it's super sleep inducing when you play with my hair." His eyes were already closed when those words left his mouth.

"How did he know tho? Is he watching us?" I just decided to go with it.

"Doctors know everything."

I made myself as comfortable as it could get and ran my fingers through the blonde mess on his head, even though some strands of hair that were close to his forehead were stuck to eachother with clumps of blood.

"I mean if the doctor said it.." I shrugged, hearing him hum in approval and tighten his arms around me.