Chapter 33
"Honestly, it's been a week, and I can still barely fucking walk. I can't take it anymore," I grunted, taking small steps.
"Harry, it won't fully heal for at least three weeks. You have a bit of a ways to go," Gardenia stated softly, aiding me as I walked to my kitchen. I think the worst part of this entire thing wasn't the pain, it was the boredom. I mean, yeah, at least Gardenia was around, keeping me company. However, we could only stay in my bedroom, laying on my air mattress, and watch Friends on my laptop. And that got a bit old, quite quickly.
"Your mum's gonna kill me for not working all week. I thought I'd be able to return tomorrow, but I don't know if I can."
"She'll be fine. She hired that new girl anyways, I'm sure she can handle the store for a couple more days. It's not that hard of a job."
"I still don't know how I feel about that. Can't you take your job back and work with me instead?"
"She already hired the girl, and she can't very well fire her now. Besides, I'll be gone at the end of August, so it'll only cause problems if I work for just a month. I can visit you though. Very often," she smirked, and I grinned happily. We finally made it to my kitchen, and I sat at the table. My mum was at work, and Gardenia and I just woke up. It was nearing eleven, and we were both starving. Unfortunately, I'm not the best cook to begin with. Add that to the fact I can barely walk, and it's a recipe for disaster. But Gardenia offered to make pancakes, and who can say no to that?
"I haven't even made pancakes in years, so if they turn out shitty, please don't kill me," she stated, sifting through the cupboards and grabbing everything she needed.
"I can't make pancakes period, so whatever you do, it'll be better than if I did them."
"You guys have like no groceries, how shocking," she commented as she was still laying the ingredients out on the counter.
"My mum's been busier these days. She's been hanging out with that guy down the road."
"The one that mows the yard shirtless? No way," she began chuckling to herself.
"That's the one. He's quite nice, actually. I haven't met him like, formally, but he always greets me. It's kind of awkward though, when he's shirtless, because where do you look? My eyes are kind of just drawn to his hairy chest, and it's weird, but my eyes keep diverting to it."
She barked out a laugh, "Oh my God, Harry. You did not just admit to checking out your mom's new male friend."
"That's not what I meant! How the hell do you not look at a chest that looks like it could be a bear's? I can't help it! It's not like I find it attractive, it's repulsive."
"Keep telling yourself that," she smirked, mixing batter and beginning to pour it into a pan.
I rolled my eyes playfully, "Whatever. Anyways, yeah, she seems happier. So I'm happy."
"That's great," she grinned. "What have you been up to while I was gone? Anything new?"
And there were the questions I've been dying for her to ask me since she left. It felt relieving to hear them now, knowing that she did, in fact, care.
"Actually, I've been looking into careers for myself, believe it or not. I'm stuck between two," I answered, and she looked up at me. I couldn't stop the butterflies swarming my stomach when I noticed how unbelievably happy she looked for me. She looked so proud.
"Really? What are they?"
"Well, they're both construction type jobs. I had a few back in England, and I enjoyed it, so I thought I could go in that direction. I'm debating whether I want to go for being a construction worker, which I can just do now. I don't have to go to university or anything. Or I can go to university to become a building inspector, which looks kind of cool. And the pay is a lot better than a construction worker. I just don't know if I want to go to school or not, that's the deciding factor, really."
