Page 2 of Toxic Wishes

“I’ll be back to check on you briefly, sweetie.” The nurse says with a warm smile. Sadly, I get more sympathy from a stranger than my mother.

Once again, I'm alone with my thoughts and the television. So I grab my phone and put on headphones to listen to music as I scroll through social media.

After about ten minutes of scrolling, the door opens again, and I’m shocked that my mom is back that quickly, but when I look up, it’s not my mom, It’s a male nurse rolling in a boy on a hospital bed who looks my age. And rather familiar. The longer I stare at him, it dawns on me. He’s the long-haired, rock star-looking kid from my English. He goofed off in English a lot so I knew reading wasn’t his strong point.

“Alright, Blake. This will be your home for the next few days or until your parents come and get you.”

He scoffs up a laugh. “Let’s see, mom is dead, and by the time you get a hold of my dad, I'm sure my brother will have already found out I’m here and come get me. By then, my ass will be wishing I was dead.”

“Until your brother kills you, at least you’ll have someone to keep you company. Blame, meet Abigail, Abigail, meet Blake.”

The male nurse mumbles, “ Good luck,” as he walks past me. I can’t help but laugh.

“Hey, aren’t you that skinny chic that goes to my school?”

I blink rapidly, surprised that anyone even knows me, let alone recognizes me.

“Ya, you’re her. Everyone has been talking about you. There’s a bet going on that you’re either a cokehead or anorexic. My guess was on anorexia; you don’t seem the type to sniff something up your nose or inject needles in your veins. Plus, your teeth aren’t messed up, and you seem on top of your shit in class, and druggies are way too relaxed to care about turning in their homework on time. And you always seem on edge; look at you right now.”

My shoulders slump, and I am forcing myself to relax, but at the same time, who the hell does he think he is?

“Excuse me, but how do you know me again?”

“Does anyone know anyone in high school?”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to answer that. Luckily I didn’t have to because he rambled on some more.

“I’ve seen you around, and like I said, people think you’ve lost a lot of weight because you’re a druggie, but I call bullshit. Am I right? Or am I right?”

He stares at me with a wide, satisfied grin. I look away, not saying a word.

“You can tell me. I’m not judging, hello.”

I look back over at him, and he's waving his hand in the air. “I’m in no position to fucking judge.”

I bite my lip so I don’t laugh. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction after his rude comment.

“Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be mean. It’s just that I thought you knew people were talking. I mean, how can you not?”

I dip my chin, narrowing my gaze on him.

“And what does that mean?”

“Uh, you lost a shit-ton of weight real fast. And if I wasn’t semi-psychic, then I wouldn't know you didn’t lose weight from drugs. Plus, it’s high school. The one place everyone is famous somehow, even if you never asked for it. So congratulations.”

I huff out a laugh. “Let me guess, you're a Gemini? No,” I tap my finger on my chin. “Leo. No, Wait, you’re not that good-looking.” I lied. Blake was very good-looking, in a rockstar kind-of way. I hear him mutter, what the fuck , under his breath, but I ignore his comment.

“Today’s my birthday so whatever the fuck zodiac sign that falls under, that is what I am.”.

“It’s your birthday?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Ya, happy fucking birthday to me,” he says bitterly.

“It’s my birthday too.”

“No shit?”

“Yup, eleven, eleven. Wish time”

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