The Beginning of the Middle that started at the End

Chapter 3

Turns out the bird signal means hawk squad. Why I didn't piece that together I will never know. What I do know is that I got shot in the eye at almost point blank and will probably go blind knowing my luck. And what's worse? The god-damn flowers are too perky. Just as I am ranting about perky flowers in my head Phil walks in, dressed all spiffy....carrying....more...flowers.... "Get the fuck out!" I said in a Darth Vader voice. He looks really confused so I decided to enlighten him by ninja kicking the shit out of the petunias!

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?" Phil screams at me. Huh never would of guess he would ever get mad, especially over flowers.

"PRETTY PETUNIAS PISS ME OFF." He looks extremely offended by this, like he was kill-me-in-my-sleep offended.

"So umm sorry about shooting in the eye." Dead silence flowed through the room. Not only did he bring overly perky flowers but he's the one that shot me in the eye.....

"You sick son of a gun!" Instead of trying to ninja kick him again, which that took a lot more effort that I thought it would, I grab the pot of flowers next to the bed and pour it out on his head. SMACK, "Owww! why did you do that?" I cry out in pain.

"Cause you're a cunt that won't even let me apologize!" He drops what's left of the broken pot with one or two wilted petunias still in bottom and storms out of the hospital room. He almost breaks the freaking door, Spartan kicking it open like that and slamming it as hard as humanly possible. But that's Phil for you, always over dramatic. He should get a show or write a book, but who has the time to write one....

I flop back onto the bed, satisfied with the chaos I just caused. Life is good, so is food. My stomach seconds my opinion with a growl that sounds like a whale giving birth. So glad there are no attractive nurses in the OD hospital, no one to hear that embarrassment. All of them are really old and at least forty for some reason.

I lean over and grab the shoe next to my bed. There is a pair of brown old man shoes, the kind that slip on and off. I head towards the door.

"So you guys go way back I assume." I freeze. Wait. That is a girl's voice. I wouldn't be shocked but, there are no girls training in the OD special force/combat division. None. Zip. Nien. Nah dah.

"Uh hi." I sputter, still confused. She starts laughing and moves the pale blue curtain between our two hospital beds. Sitting across from me was a girl, obviously.

She has copper hair with a good mix of brown in there and I'm not going to lie, she's pretty. Like too pretty. Like if she were a flower I would ninja kick her right in her pretty face.

"So?" She asks expectantly as she swings her legs off the bed so we face each other.

"So what?" I reply, totally confused about what seems to be going on here. She sighs like I should know and I start to panic. I haven't talked to a girl since high school! Well, to be fair that was only a few years ago but still.

Oh my god those eyes! They're a deep blue that fades as it gets farther from her pupils and has tiny gold flecks in it.

Wait! WAIT! You're talking to her right now pay fucking attention, Arthur!

I zone back in just in time to hear her say,

"How long have you know your friend?" She asks, sounding very bored now.

"Who? Oh...Ummmmm, I've known him all through training. So about three-ish years now." I reply really quickly. Just saying, I could be a rapper with how fast I spat all that out.

"Oh." She replies as we play the game where you stare and look at everything else besides the person you're talking to.

"So, uh, what's your name?" I inquire, having to think to make sure my voice doesn't crack or something.

"It's Amber." She says as she gives me this grin. "And what's yours, Mister Flower Hater?"

"Arthur, like the sword in the stone." I reply, my nerves cool a little.

"So you're the king of England, what an honor to meet you." She says holding back her laughter.

"My fair maiden, would thou please my ears with tales of where thou hast cometh from, on this fine day?" I ask dorkishly, giving myself a mental high-five. Nailed it.

"I'm from Scotland, my lord." She replies smiling, then grabs me. Pulling me onto my feet, "Let's go see what the hospital café has." Snickering a bit I say as we leave,

"I hear they have a lovely selection of cyanide."

"Hey so what do you do at the OD? Are you in training? What's your story?" Shooting her questions as we walk down the empty hall, our footsteps echo around us.

"Umm I'm in training for the infield medical division, but I'll be done with training in a little less than a year now."

"Sweet," I remark. That means she nearly has a Master's Degree in the medical field. "But, not to be rude or anything, how old are you exactly?" She laughs a bit. Good so I didn't offend her.

"I'm twenty, and I'll be twenty-one this December."

"How the heck do you almost have a Master's Degree?" I attempt to say without sounding like an elementary student.

"Easy, I graduated high school with a Bachelor's Degree. By the way, I'm working on my Doctorate." And with that she continues down the hallway, leaving me still trying to wrap my head around it.

She graduated high school with a Bachelor's Degree. I only have a Bachelor's Degree and I'm still considered smart for it. I mean yeah, I graduated with an Associate's Degree, but she did four-ish years of university while also being in high school.

She's fucking insane.....