WIP It’s-Not-Friday; the “Nicole’s Been Sick” edition
Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. I promised one every Friday and then I got a double whammy of allergies and a cold, because when my respiratory system hates me, it really hates me. I skipped a couple of writing days while I recovered.
So, here’s a bit from All I Ever Wanted, the sequel to This Little Whatever. NOTE: This is no guarantee that the scene below will make edits (mine or my editors), but I did write it with my own ten fingers, so that counts, yeah?
The nurse sighs. “Is there a reason why you’re not bathing? Do you want to talk to Dr. Spaulding?”
No, I did not want to talk to Dr. Fucking Spaulding. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to be here. I only did it because my friends, who I royally fucked over by not fucking dying, begged me to. It was damned hard to say no, looking at Lala and Jonathan’s red teary faces begging me to accept help.
I’ve never seen either one of them cry before. Way to suck, Patch.
I planned on doing the bare minimum until everyone just gave the fuck up and let me go to die in peace. The bare minimum did not involve showering regularly.
It also didn’t involve talking more than I had to. I curl up on the window sill, rested my head against the window and waited for her to go the fuck away.
She doesn’t. Fuck, she’s sitting next to me. Why? “I know it’s not easy, but I promise you if you clean up a little, you’ll start to feel a lot better.”
God, I fucking hate it when they talk to me like I’m a fucking child. I glare at her and snarled. “Fuck off.”
She didn’t look all that impressed. Then again, I probably don’t look all that impressive, skinny and smelly and tired. She’s probably dealt with worse.
“I tried to nice, but since you’re not going to be nice back, I won’t bother. Kid, you stink, and I’m this close to recommending we get orderlies in here to drag your ass outside and hose you down. The choice is yours.”