My Attempt at Romance ch2

(This is the second part to a story I published a week or so ago, I would sugest reading it. Here's a link , I hope you enjoy!)




I woke up, head pounding, and eyes stinging. Squinting my eyes, I looked around, dizzily. With a crackly, plastic water bottle in her dainty hands, I saw Susie sitting next to me. She looked up and grinned, clearly happy to see me awake. Susie started to tear up and I was swiftly bum-rushed with a firm hug.

“I was so worried,” she practically cried. I let out a slight chuckle, she hardly knew me but was worried about me. That felt nice. I then returned the hug. Suddenly she pulled away from me, and opened up the water bottle. “The nurse said you might need this.”

“Thanks,” I smiled softly. Examining her face once again, I noticed it looked kinda tired, but relieved. As I took a few gulps from the water bottle, she took off her glasses and rubbed the lenses with the bottom of her shirt.

“You’ve had a rough day haven’t cha’?” a sweet voice cooed from the opening door. I met my mother’s gaze. She clutched her hand purse nervously; it was obvious she had rushed out of work to get here. Her hair was messy but her makeup was still well done. Susie looked behind at my mother who walked over to me. “I told you to drink more water,” my mother scolded.

“I went to the water fountain twice today to refill my water bottle, my science teacher wouldn't let me have it in class and then made the class do an abundance of sessions of heart rate exercises,” as I explained this my mother glared at me, sympathy hidden only by the slight sneer she wore. “I was late to math, so I couldn’t grab it,” Susie stared guiltily at the floor. My mother acted like I was telling a story.

“And who’s this?” My mother asked, eyeballing an uncomfortable Susie.

“Some chick I fell over,” I joked. Susie’s face took a crimson tint.

“That chick has a name,” Susie sneered in a volume barely over a whisper.

“Don’t you mean fell for?” My mother corrected, taking no note of Susie, who snorted as I was the one red-faced now.

“N-no, I quite literally tripped over her in the hallway,” I stammered. Susie was holding back laughter as the discourse occurred between me and my mother.

“Is that how you broke your nose?” Rolling her eyes, my mother responded.

“Yeah….” I spoke breathlessly. My mother paused, flabbergasted, before bursting out with laughter, and Susie then joined in. My face got even redder. I heard the click of heels on tile, my savior. A nurse walked in with a clipboard pressed against her chest. She hushed the girl and woman at my bedside. When she looked at them her face was firm and stern like a teacher scolding loud children, but when her gaze shifted to me she had a new kindness, softness and a generally sweeter attitude.

“How are you feeling?” The nurse asked calmly. Her voice was sweet and smooth.

“I have a headache,” and enough embarrassment to break the hoover dam.

“Have you had any water yet?”.

“Yes.”

The nurse scratched something on her clipboard. She interrogated me some more, but it went by quickly. I could see why they hired a woman like her. After a few small tests and the exchange of a grin, she left.

“What time is it?” I asked to no one in particular. I watched the nurse leave and listened as the click of heels faded into the distance.

“2:30pm, why?” Susie responded. I internally rejoiced at the idea I wouldn't go back to class.

“Just wondering,” I looked at my mom and then impatiently asked, “ When do I get to leave?”

“The nurse told me you could leave after your examination, I guess we could check out now.” She looked deep in thought as she spoke. I smiled.

“Works for me,” I swung my legs around and off the bed. I internally questioned where my shoes were, but brushed it off. The all familiar feeling of a head rush kicked in. I clasped my temple slightly and as I regained the ability to think, I realized something.“Oh, Susie you need a ride home right?”

“I guess… I would have taken the bus…” she fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist. I hadn't noticed it before. It was small and beaded with small box shaped beads, they spelled a name: Jessie. At least, that's what I could make from it.

“We could give you a ride home,” I offered, looking for my shoes in the room. I wasn't only missing my shoes, from what I could gather I only had the hoodie around my waist and the clothes on my back. The buzz of my pocket alerted me to the presence on my phone.

“Only if it's alright with your mom, but I would appreciate it,” Susie plastered on one of those fake grins that people in advertisements always had.

“Is that alright, Mom?” I asked hopefully. She nodded at me.

“I have to go back to work, but I guess.” She shrugged looking at me then Susie.

“Thank you!” I hugged my mom and jumped off my bed. Susie smiled. We all continued to walk to the lobby and I checked out. “Ma’am?” I asked the receptionist.

“Yes?” I was granted a quizzical look from my mother and Susie.

“Where are my shoes?” I understood that my bag might have still been at school but my shoes? That I didn't understand. The receptionist stared at me without speaking. I lowered my eyebrows and rolled my eyes. I looked at my mother who bit her lip to hold back laughter. I looked at my feet to make sure I still lacked shoes and sure as heck my feet only bore my black patterned socks.

“Mom,” I growled.

“What?” She asked cocking an eyebrow. Her voice still held back laughter.

“I have a feeling you’re not telling me something,” I grit my teeth together. Susie looked on from the sidelines.

“I am not holding back information, my sweet daughter,” I felt like I was about to pounce the poor woman.

“Your shoes were in my bag,” Susie interrupted. I whirled around. In her hands were my silly, little, beaten up flats. I blushed, swiped the shoes from her and slid them on. My mother laughed. Gosh, she was tormenting me wasn't she.

We got in the car and I was greeted by my backpack. The sight relieved me. Susie slid in the back seat and I joined her. Our bags acted as a makeshift barrier between us. Nervously, I fiddled with my hoodie and pulled out my phone. I scrolled through my Instagram, seeing a few posts of cats, memes, aesthetic plant pictures,  and a lot of art.

The drive to Susie's place was silent with the exception of the droning of the radio on some pop station. My mother singing along wasn't helping. I clicked off my phone and looked at Susie who looked outside at the scenery. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my sketch book and flicked through it to find a clean page. I glanced up seeing I caught Susie's attention. She peered curiously over the bags.

My mind raced but I acted natural. Not many people looked into my sketchbook and as she observed it, I realized why. I was slightly embarrassed. I found myself on one of my more polished pieces in the book and I was about to flip the page when Susie's hand placed itself gently on the paper.

She looked at it for a moment and grinned. “That looks nice,” she said. I felt my heart skip a beat, whether it was jitters or an arrhythmia was anyone's guess. Looking down at the piece, I chuckled to myself. It was not “pretty” and by no means happy, cheerful or bright, but I really appreciated the compliment. Without warning my hands moved and tore the page out.

“You can keep it if you’d like.” I handed it to Susie. She looked at me then the art. My mother snickered from the front seat. I paid her no mind.

“R-really?” Surprise filled Susie's voice. I nodded. “Thank you,” she cautiously took it and brought it to her lap. I smiled. The rest of the ride was silent. I watched as Susie traced over lines with her finger and would bring the paper close to her face to examine something. As soon as we got there, she smiled, grabbing her stuff and leaving the car. I heard the tear of paper as she tore something from a notebook of hers. As I walked to the passenger side door, she handed me a small, folded piece of paper. I said goodbye and hoped to see her tomorrow. She returned a sweet smile and agreed.

I sat back down in the passenger seat and my mom turned on the seat heater. I watched Susie get to the door as we pulled away from her house. Once we had gone a few blocks, I unfolded the piece of paper to find, in pretty pink ink, the words: “My number: (206) 327-1239” I smiled, took out my phone and sent the new number a text. My mother, again, snickered.



(Authors note: please do not call this number… this is a fictitious story and I don't condone calling whoever has it.)