Photograph

Thirteen

The next morning, Katie had dropped me off at the hospital and I was carrying a small brown bag of breakfast I got from Starbucks this morning for Billie when I entered.

"Damn! That surgery worked a charm. Can't feel a fucking thing in my foot anymore." I heard from outside.

I creaked the door open, peaking my head through the white painted piece of wood and looking around the room to see Maggie and Patrick, as well as Fiona and Billie. The small doctor was hugging a clipboard in her tiny arms, and she had an unreadable expression to her face.

She looked anxious.

The green haired girl on the other hand, didn't notice me at all, so I completely just stood and watched the room for a while as they spoke.

Meaning, the adults just stood around and listened to Billie as she started speaking out of her asshole, aimlessly nodding along to all the gibberish she was saying.

Billie looked high as fuck.

The doctor was even trying to squeeze in a word here and there, but as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, Billie had already beaten her to it; she would ramble and ramble— making Fiona close her mouth in defeat slightly.

"Mom! Lemme tell you— Fiona got these really fucking fine ass surgeons and everything. I'm sure I'll be off the bed in like, a week? Couple days? Me and Alex can explore the city and everything."

Fiona laughed nervously, making eye contact with me from across the room. "Yeah, about that—"

"Sorry for snapping." The blue eyed girl said suddenly. "I didn't mean it. I get like that sometimes."

"Billie, it's okay. There's something you need to know."

"No, no no. I'm like, really super sorry for being an asshole."

She chuckled lightheartedly, shrugging slightly.

A small silence ripped through the air suddenly, before Billie's clear blue eyes lit up when her gaze met mine slightly, a blush creeping up my neck at the sight.

She beckoned me over with her left hand, her bright green nail digging into her palm as her right hand was balled into a fist.

"Look! It's the pretty girl!" She cooed, intertwining our fingers together as I reached her.

She turned to her mother and smiled at her.

"The crazy thing about this bitch right here is that I like her and she's blind. Lowkey. Doesn't even know. And, I'm like, falling." She giggled slightly, completely oblivious to how loud she was being.

What?

I felt my breath hitch in my throat and I exchanged looks with Maggie, awkwardly avoiding Billie's point and letting go of her hand to walk to the foot of the bed, grazing her foot with my hand. "I— um, how are you? How was the, uh, surgery?" She mumbled.

"I feel like a fucking feather, dude."

I hummed in response, satisfied with her short answer. "Does it still hurt?"

"Nope."

"Can you move it?"

"Nope."

Fiona cleared her throat, sensing the tension. "That's what I wanted to discuss today, Billie."

I feel like I knew what she was going to say, but I didn't dare interrupt the small doctor.

"K. What's in the bag, British Mcgee?" She grumbled, eyeing up the bag.

I scoffed. "Stop calling me that and you'll find out."

She hugged the clipboard together in her arms, completely suffocating the small object and waiting impatiently for us to finish.

Billie chuckled and grabbed the brown bag back before rummaging through it, finding a small, vegan muffin, her eyes lighting up again. "Dude!"

I smiled at her, still massaging her foot. She wasn't showing any sign of pain, and it seemed as if she couldn't even feel my hand.

Fiona cleared her throat.

"You're paralysed."

I felt my heart skip a couple beats as the doctor spoke, tearing my hand away from the hot skin on Billie's foot.

But, as I was gently grazing my fingertips over her bumpy foot, the more I noticed it was more purple and more bruised and more warm than what it was before.

Meaning they had fucked the surgery up.

Meaning, this wasn't a sick joke.

Meaning, she was paralysed.