The Love In Our Lungs

Chapter 7

Already out of school, and in Stella's car, we make our way to the coffee shop. Friday couldn't be more relieving. Having to not worry about going to school the next day could probably be one of the greatest feelings ever. We both had planned on going to watch a movie in the theater that is close to the school. Stella had mentioned how music was always playing around the theater. She liked that people would often stop by and dance or sing along to their favorite song when it played. To people like her, life is full of prosperity.

The two of us had gotten out of the car. Me carrying my backpack, along with some books I had received from the library. While Stella had gone running through the now open door, to attend a customer. It amazes me how she still hasn't gotten fired. But again...only time will tell. I somehow had gotten all of my homework done in thirty minutes. I had to go to the hospital this Wednesday. According to Dr. Gahn, I may be in due time having more asthma attacks than usual. It scares me, but I'm prepared. After all, it isn't something I haven't gone through before.

The feeling in my stomach returns every time I think about this appointment I have on Wednesday. I go in my mind and look into what if's? section of my thoughts. What if I have to go to this appointment because of what happened days ago? The race. What if I have to move again in order to go to another hospital? The worst question of them all raises inside my head, and I quietly gasp when I think of it. What if Dr. Gahn has given up on me? Given up on the promise he had made to me. What if when I had looked into his eyes, all the determination and hope I had seen in them was covered up by my own tiny bit of hope? What if he had only said that because he felt pitiful toward me?

I shake my head multiple times as if to erase the thoughts out of my brain, and only focus on what's in front of me. A hot chocolate and my sketchbook. I consider myself an addict to this type of thing. How I could become so attached to something in a matter of months. We haven't been here for less than what could easily be five months, and I have already grown to love certain things about Missouri. I hadn't thought about it, but if the time came, that I had to leave this place... would I be willing to do so? Time has made me realize that this place is nothing but full of bittersweet situations, places, thoughts, and people. 

The only thing I wouldn't consider bittersweet about this small town would probably be the food. It can be a town full of smiles and happiness for some. My thoughts on this place are between happiness and comfort as well as sorrow and dejection. You could say that sorrow and dejection aren't that different from each other. I could easily find more words that are similar to those two.

The bell of the desk had made its now annoying ring once again. That bell could probably be the one thing I despised about the coffee shop. How it interrupted my thoughts or the concentration I had put into several of the drawings I had made every day I came here. Stella had mentioned how she had grown to hate the bell too with the countless times she had to attend someone that had banged their hand against it. It was quite funny how she had brought up customers who were... interesting or to put it in a clearer way... drunk. And by drunk, I mean really drunk, to the point they had offered Stella some mischievous things when she had to work at night. It was nothing new to her to have people acting slightly different than the people that normally came by the coffee shop.

I never pay attention as to who taps their hand against the bell. I wasn't interested in scanning the faces of strangers I would probably see once in my lifetime. But I had made a mistake in not looking towards the desk and had paid attention as to who had tapped the bell this time. It made me uncomfortable to sometimes think that an infinite number of people had touched that thing. And it wasn't any better to know that it had never been cleaned properly. I know that thanks to Stella, who had been questioned by Dylan. He had asked her if they ever cleaned the bell, seeing as that the day we had been talking, more people came and slammed their hands against the bell than usual. Stella had been sincere, and with the exact words "That thing has never been washed before as far as I know" we both were left dumbfounded, and disgusted. The three of us had laughed at her comment, and kept on with the evening.