Page 4: Friday, March 17Mature

  I didn't go to school on Friday. Instead, Mom made me sleep in until about nine o'clock in the morning, as I had stayed up to around eleven, being a worry-wart the night before.
  "Chill out," she had said. "It'll be fine." But even she had a face of doubt. I couldn't believe Lenni would do such a thing. I told him specifically not to! I was fuming, recalling over and over in my mind how I had watched helplessly as paramedics lifted Alex into the back of the ambulance. My poor, beloved Alex. I felt so badly for him. I intended to avenge his beating, as corny as that sounds. He didn't deserve this. Lenni, though, deserved a few things. And a few words. And maybe a lawsuit. . .
  I was really getting ahead of myself. Those decisions aren't even mine to make! Still, I felt it was my place to settle things between these two. Jealousy really can corrupt one's mind. And who knows? Maybe that's just what happened. Maybe Lenni just went out of his mind when he beat my boyfriend to a bloody pulp. My hands balled up into fists. What was his problem, anyway? Surely, he hadn't been provoked in any way except that I was Alex's girlfriend. It's none of Lenni's business what I do or say. If I don't want to be with him, then I won't be! Simple as that. I don't need his approval.
  "Macy!" Mom shook me and jolted me our of my reverie.
  "What?" I asked, looking up at her face, which was full of concern. She pointed down to my hands. It wasn't until then that I realized my hands were in such tight fists that my nails were starting to cut into the flesh of my palms. "Owowowowowow owww!" I flexed my hands and tried not to touch anything as my mom went to the bathroom to get Neosporin out of the cabinet. She came back after a moment and rubbed the Neosporin on my hands before wrapping them both in a white gauze.

  We drove to the hospital to visit Alex after eating breakfast at Hardee's. When we got there, Mom asked the lady at the front desk where his room was. The woman, who introduced herself as Gina, informed us that Alex was in room 433, which was located in the recovery wing of the hospital. My mom thanked her and we headed up the elevator to the fourth floor. As we ascended, I became more and more antsy. Was he going to be mad at me? Or would he even be awake to give me his opinion?
  Mom opened the door slowly, trying to be nonchalant. We tip-toed in, afraid that he might still be asleep. To my mangled relief and nervousness, he was awake. His dad had his arms around his mom, both of them watching him feverishly. Sitting in a chair beside his bed was his eleven-year-old little sister, Abby, who seemed to be in the middle of an interrogation.
  "So, he just all of a sudden knocked you out? I thought you were strong! Huh, big brother, aren't you supposed to be strong? Or were you just a wuss and let yourself have it for stealing his girlfriend? Man, you must feel pretty sucky right now. Did you--"
  "Shut up, Abby!" Alex snapped. "That's not how it happened. Don't give me accusations if you don't even know what you're talking about." He massaged his left temple as if he had a headache, which he probably did.
  "Hey," I said, skiddish. It wasn't until then that they noticed me.
  He looked over at me. "Oh, hey. Glad you could make it. I kinda wanted to talk to you."
  I nodded. "Yeah, I've been wanting to talk to you, too."

The End

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