Keep Close

I Love You Too Much

Ok ok so get ready for a really sad yet happy yet really sappy sob story and a really long chapter. (If that makes any sense like at all 😆)

"What's her name?" Denise asked for the third time.

"Enid," Carl groaned along with Enid. It felt like Denise was taking this a bit too seriously. The young sheriff had just woken up after having a seizure, but he felt fine. Well, he felt sort of dizzy, but he refused to believe that anything was wrong with him. Denise grabbed a flashlight from her medical bag and shined it in Carl's eyes.

"Oh man. That's bright," he winced.

After she put it away, she asked, "So can you tell me the names of the months of the year?"

"Umm...there's January and March and June and December, October, and February..." he said, trailing off with his eyes slowly shutting.

"Carl! Pay attention," Denise ordered.

His eyes shot open, but they started closing again after a few more questions.

"Look. You can sleep after some more questions," Denise said.

"Carl, just stay awake long enough for Denise to tell how bad your concussion is," Enid comforted as she leaned against the wall near his bed.

"I told you, I'm fine," Carl said exasperatedly. His hands reached up to rub the tiredness out of his eyes.

"No, you're not," Enid corrected. "So just let Denise do her job, please." Noticing that Carl hadn't changed expressions, she continued. "Your pride or strong reputation or whatever can wait. You are sick, and you need Denise to be your doctor. So let her do her job!" Enid half-yelled with tiredness on her face. She had been up since three in the morning talking to Carl and watching over him as he slept. It was now eleven thirty.

Carl looked up at Enid with a confused and almost angry expression on his face and then looked away quickly when Enid's glare met his.

"You don't understand, do you?" Carl growled.

"What was that?" Enid asked with a hint of anger in her voice, her eyebrows furrowing.

"I said-"

"No! I heard what you said," Enid snarled, while simultaneously spinning around on one heel of her brown, combat boots to face Carl. "I just can't believe you said that."

"Guys, don't fight," Denise pleaded.

"Shut up, Denise," the two said at the same time while not looking away from each other.

Denise quickly left the room, her head hung on her chest.

"How could you possibly even think for one moment that I don't understand?" Enid bickered.

"Because, you're too weak! You don't know the pressure of-"

Smack

Carl stopped mid-sentence to reach up and touch the spots on his face that stung. He knew Enid had muscles, but he didn't know she could slap like that.

"I know the pressure, douche bag! I know! I've been through it! You and your dad aren't the only ones!"

Enid yelled out in frustration.

"I had to go through it just like you did, idiot! My parents died because they weren't strong enough. And now, I have to be strong enough to live another day–to fight one more fight. Why did I ever like you in the first place? You're such a horrible friend! You underestimate me! I knew you'd be stubborn and hurt me just like Ron did."