"Aj are you - oh! You look different today." My mom says walking in. "As in a good way? Or bad way?" I ask self consciously.

"Good way of course! It's been a while since you ... well you know dress nicely. You look stunning dear."

My mom smiles widely and I smile in return. "Have you taken your pill?" My mom asks staring at the small white pill on my counter.

"Of course." I reply. "Aj why're you lying? It's right there." She frowns picking it up. "I already took my pain pill that's the only one I need."

"Aj you need to take this one too." She hands it to me along with a cup of water. "I'm not depressed."

"That's not what I said." She replies. I roll my eyes and take the pill before she staring scolding me.

"Open your mouth." She asks as I swallow. I open my mouth and stick my tongue up so she can check underneath.

"Good. I'm going to get my bag so we can go okay?" I nod my head as she's walking out. When she walks out I pull out the pill that I hid under my leg.

I managed to hide it without her seeing it. I don't like taking it because it makes me feel different.

Not better. Not worse. Just different. According to the doctor the pill will release a hormone that will activate my "happy" emotions.

But I don't need it because I'm okay.

Or at least that's what I like to tell myself.

•••

"Oh wow you look different today." The doctor says when he sees me. "Thank you?" I say not sure if he's saying it in a good way or bad way.

"How're you today?" He asks. "Good." I reply. "How are you feeling from your back? Your head?"

"I still get horrible headaches." I say. "It's normal. You hit your head very hard on that accident."

"Yeah I know. It did make my legs stop working and if did screw up my spine." He looks down at his chart and continues talking.

"How are you emotionally?"

"Good." I mumble. "Are you sure? Do the pills help you sleep at night?" No. "Of course." He nods his head again and then gets up.

"I've got news. We've got the date for your surgery." He says. My mom puts her hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezes it.

"It's in three weeks. July 10th." I nod my head feeling my stomach get sick. I've been waiting for this, but now I feel scared.

Terrified.

"What are the chances of me surviving?"

"Aj!" My mom says. "What mom? I have to ask. I have to know." The doctor changes his expression.

He's got that "I have terrible news and I'm going to try to say it the best way I can" face.

"I'm not going to lie. The chances are 50/50. We're performing surgery in your brain. The nerve we have to fix will make your body start working again. Yet, the surgery is very risky. That's why you have to try your best to stay calm. Don't worry, we will do our best. The surgeons here are very good and trustworthy."

"Oh." I simply say. "I need you to sign something ma'am." He tells my mom. My mom nods her head. "Do you want to come?"

"I'll stay here." My mom walks out with the doctor. I know she wanted to go alone because she wants to talk to him about me.

She wants to ask him all those questions she won't dare to ask with me in the room. I push those feelings away and wait for leather jacket dude to walk in.

For some reason my heart starts palpitating faster when I think of him. I followed my friends advice and actually combed my hair and applied makeup up.

Hopefully I don't look like a clown.

When the door opens I hold my breath. Sadly, it's just a nurse. "Do you need more blood?" I ask.

"Oh no dear. Dr. Smith forgot the chart." She says grabbing the chart from the counter. I sigh relieved. I didn't want her to poke my bruised arm anymore.

I stare at my reflection on the window. I try to tame my hair which now looks frizzy. Great. As I'm patting my hair the door opens again.

This time it's not the nurse.

"April Jeanette-! Oh my. You look wow. You're not even wearing your glasses." He says when his eyes land on me. "Hello Dean Ambrose." I say trying to sound confident, but I'm trembling.

"You look beautiful."

I feel my cheeks get hot and I'm sure a red tint has spread all over my face. "T-thank you. I like your shirt."

I mentally face palm myself. What kind of flirting is that?

He looks down at his shirt and chuckles. "Umm thank you? It's actually super old. It even has a hole."

"It still looks nice. Well you know because you're nice and your face is .. nice." I have to stop myself from talking because by now my whole body is on fire.

Dean laughs and sits down on a chair in front of me. "Thank you. Your face is also nice. Specially when blushing."

"I'm not blushing." He reaches over and grabs my burning cheek. "I think you are." His hand in contact with my face makes my stomach feel some type of way.

It makes me feel some type of way.

"So who are you looking all pretty for?" He asks casually as he leans back on his chair. How can he just talk like that? Say words like that?

"Umm. I just ... I - uh .. well .. my friends and - uh. My - uh." Only nonsense is leaving my mouth and I hate myself right now.

"Ohhh. I see." He says with a grin nodding like I actually said something that made sense. Suddenly his phone rings.

He takes it out of his pocket and gets up walking to the corner of the room. "Hello? Yeah ... I can't right now. I'm at the ... I told you I will ... I just ... come on you know I ... don't be this way, Layla. Hello? Layla?"

I look down confused. Layla? Must be his sister.

Dean sighs sticking his phone back in his pocket and sitting down on the chair he was in. "Is Layla your sister?"

"Actually ... she's my girlfriend."

My heart completely sinks to my stomach and my chest gets a weird pang of pain. "Oh." I reply not knowing what else to say.

What else did I expect?

How can a guy like him not have a girlfriend? Of course he does.

"Yeah." He says scratching the back of his head. "Do you have a boyfriend?" He asks. "Of course ... not." I say a tint spreading across my cheeks.

Only this time it's because of embarrassment not because I'm flattered. "You're very pretty. You could easily get one."

"Mhm." I say feeling my chin quiver. Why do I feel like crying? Why? Must be because I didn't take that stupid happy pill.

"Hey are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just - I just got cancelled. By my friend. We were supposed to hang out after my appointment. That's why I uh tried to look nice but she had something to do."

"Oh. I'm sorry. We could hang if you want?" I shake my head no, "No. no. I'm good. I have to go home and catch up on Greys Anatomy. I know right a sick person watching a sick person show."

I force myself to laugh, but he doesn't. He actually looks pretty serious. He's staring at me intensely and that makes me want to cry even more.

"You should get going. My mom - my moms coming back and I'm sure you're busy as well."

"Oh.. okay. Uh. I'm sorry about your friend. Maybe we could hang out some other time. Take care April Jeannette." He gets up and gives me a sympathetic smile before he walks away.

As soon as he's out the door I feel tears come out of my eyes. I wipe them along with the lip gloss on my lips.

I'm sure now I look like a clown.