i went to the roof, the door creaking as i pushed it open.
there stood dallas in a black t-shirt and blue faded jeans, with a cigarette in his hand and a lighter in the other.
"i thought i told you this was a private, secret hideout."
"i thought it was clear that i didn't care, besides i come baring skittles."
i shake the bag in front of my face and walk over, sitting on the floor.
"don't mind if i do then."
he took the bag from my grasps, opened it and filled his mouth to the brim.
i laughed.
"dallas. i came to tell you something."
"what is it?" he said still chewing.
"i kind of maybe did something bad."
i looked at him for a second and he gestured for me to continue.
"nancy told me to organize the patients files and i came across yours. i didn't read anything important, like your diagnosis or anything, it was stuff like your birthday."
i figured i'd tell him the truth because i was cursed with the trait of being really bad with secrets, i just couldn't keep them, most of the time.
"i'm really sorry."
"okay."
"okay?"
he exhaled a breath of smoke from his cigarette and continued.
"i don't care."
"does that mean your gonna tell me what's wrong with you?"
"no."
now i was just confused.
"blue, let's get this straight. if you did decide to read my whole file, we would definitely be having a different conversation because i'd never forgive you."
"oh."
the sound of the ash hitting the floor from the cigarette became louder in the silence.
YOU ARE READING
Eleven
Short Storywe met on a rooftop on the 11th day of the 11th month of the 11th hour. all because i had a seizure. it was weird because i hadn't had one in eight months. maybe it was fate. or maybe it was meant to be fatal. seeing as though we met at a hospital. ...