I woke up to the sound of a machine beeping. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but it turns out to be Pontius. My heart broke a little when I noticed that this was all real. It was real, the accident was real, Cubbie’s dislocated shoulder was real, Sean’s busted lips were real, Isom’s bruises were real, Mark’s meltdown was real, it was all real. My head somehow ended up on Mark’s lap. I sat up to find out that he was still fast asleep, all of them except for Sean. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He started, rubbing his eyes.
“Like what?”
“Like I just killed someone.”
“Because you’re awake before everyone else.” I bluntly said, “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “I’m pretty much surprised too.”
“What time is it?”
“Twelve.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“Are you feeling what I’m feeling?”
“You have feelings?” I said in irony, he just looked at me with a flat expression. “Okay, I’m sorry. What are you feeling?”
“That this isn’t a dream.”
“It isn’t.” I stated, “Reality slaps you in the face.”
“I know. It’s just that… I can’t believe that it actually happened.”
“Me too.” I glanced at Pontius, hoping that he would wake up at any moment.
“Do you know what else I’m feeling?” He cracked a smirk, and I just shook my head.
“Hunger?” I chuckled,
“How do you know me so well?” He shook his head, what an interesting friendship we have here. “But seriously, can we get something to eat?”
“Yea, I’m hungry too.” Both of us stood up and headed outside to the cafeteria.
We sat across each other by the window, sipping our drinks and munching on a sandwich. “I find it funny that nothing happened to Mark.” He said, fumbling with his straw.
“Have you seen him? Did you not see what coffee has done to him?”
“Okay, so he got burned by coffee.” He rolled his eyes,
“It’s almost the same.” I shrugged. I got a little distracted by Sean’s busted lips, it’s just… There… Poor Sean, his face got the beating.
“Will you stop looking at it?” He scowled, covering his lip and snapped me back to reality,
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I blinked,
“Stop looking at it!”
“At what?” I innocently asked and he just raised his eyebrows at me. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just so distracting.” I chuckled teasingly,
“No, that is not funny.” He scowled, “It’s my face we’re talking about here!”
“Smile.” I teased,
“Why? What do you mean?”
“If you kissed the counter’s edge, then a busted lip isn’t enough.” I stated and smirked, “Smile.” I repeated, a little more serious.
“Since where are you the doctor?” He retorted,
“Smile, or I’ll make you.” I threatened playfully, and he obeyed. He smiled and I studied his mouth, “You’re going to have to smile wider.”
“I’m not the joker.” He chuckled, but he obeyed. I used the bottom tip of my plastic spoon to lift his upper lip,
“As I expected!” I said in triumph,
“What’s wrong?” He replied with utter confusion,
“Your gums… They’re bleeding… You have a cut in your gums…” I told him,
“No wonder my mouth tastes weird, I thought it was just me…” He chuckled, “Is it that bad?”
“It’s going to swell a little.” I smiled genuinely, showing him a feeling of sympathy.
“Crap.” He cursed under his breath,
“Don’t worry, I’ve been there.” I blurted and his face turned into an interested expression,
“Where have you not been?” He rolled his eyes,
“I’ve never been to Africa and Antarctica.” I said and nodded like a two year old,
“Neither have I, and the north pole.”
“Yea, and also the Bermuda Triangle.”
“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’.
“But seriously, I’ve busted my lips before.” I nodded,
“Yea, I believe you.” He sarcastically said,
“You kissed the edge of the counter, I kissed the tip of the curb. Does that attract your attention?”
“You seriously did?” He gasped, almost bursting into laughter. I nodded and pulled my bottom lip downwards, showing the stitches I got. “Sick!” He cried,
“I had more guts than you, Cimino.” I had to tell him the truth,
“How did that even happen?” He grimaced, “Seriously, put that away.”
“That’s what you get for swinging too high on the swing set.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“I lived a non-childproofed life, okay?” I shrugged in defense, “It’s a lot better actually, and I enjoy adventures.”
“How old were you?”
“Five, or was it four…”
“Under six.” He concluded,
“Yea, under six.” I agreed, rolling my eyes. “My childhood is made up of bruises, scrapped knees or elbows, sometimes both, broken bones, and bloody lips.”
“Broken bones?”
“Broke my arm when I was seven… That’s what you get for climbing a tree.”
“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“No one knows, not even me.” I shrugged and giggled,
“No dislocations?”
“Yet, but I heard that it’s really painful.”
“You could ask Cubbie himself.” And then we burst out laughing. I have always liked talking to him; we have always had our own conversation bubble.
“What will be the first thing you’d say when Pontius wakes up?” I started a new topic to blabber on,
“Not sure.”
“Come on, come up with something!”
“You first!” He gestured with his chin,
“I’d tell him that doughnuts has been banned all over the country, that’ll totally devastate him.” I chuckled evilly, “Or maybe tell him that cats today only eats doughnuts.”
“Maybe I’d hire some pregnant woman to act all angry at Pontius for knocking her up.” That definitely cracked me up; I had a good laugh there.
“Oh God, that’s mean.” I said, “And I needed a good laugh, though.”
“Me too, I needed that too.” We then continued on laughing at some random things. I would occasionally show my stitches and Sean would scold me, that was fun. I felt like some of the weight that has been lingering on my shoulders disappeared. We laughed for a good hour, we actually did that.
“I think we should go back.” I informed, Sean nodded obediently and both of us lazily shuffled back.
YOU ARE READING
The Foster Kid (Part 3) (A Foster The People Fan Fiction)
FanfictionEvery carries suitcases of problems, and Ally thinks hers is too much. They said that they want to help her. Can they show it? Will they be able to change Ally's perspective of life? Read to find out!
