The Split

Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry it's a day late guys :/

Chapter 10:

I kid you not, I sat by the front door waiting for Kirstie. And I still am.
     I'm giving her leeway since she has a baby and they don't always cooperate, but almost two hours is starting to get excessive. I'm not going to call though, it was her decision to come over and I guess it's now her decision not to.
     Even if that hurts real bad.
     Of course this means she definitely hates me, all former fears that Esther had quashed, back. And back with a vengeance.
     I began to pace, because well something could be wrong, with Kirstie, or worse Marcia. Kirstie can handle a lot more than a six month old baby. But surely that wouldn't be the case right? I'm just over thinking things.
     "Calm down," I quietly tell myself, running my hands down my face. I come to a stop in front of the door again and just stare at it.
     It was a particularly boring door, not that doors are ever really that interesting. It is brown, it is wood, there is nothing else to say about it. This is really fucking boring. My room would be more interesting.
    I walk quickly away from the door, the very boring door and right as I step foot in my room there is a knock at the door. Turns out it's true what they say about watching the pot boil, or whatever it was.
    I rush back out and open the door, trying and filing to rein in my smile. Then it just drops when it's not Kirstie. But I have to pull one back on for Mitch.
     "Hey," I give him a nod.
     "Oh my god I came here from work. You were either dead or your phone is flat!" he shoves me.
     "What? No. I don't let my phone go flat," I shake my head. "Why is it so important you talk to me?"
    "It's not, well it is, but it's not me. Kirstie's been trying to call you, Marcia had a huge reaction to something and spewed everywhere, like projectile," he gags, but come on it's just baby vomit.      "Which sounds horrendous, then took the poor girl to the hospital. She wants you there, god knows why since you can't even charge your damn phone!" he shoves me again.
     "My phone is not flat," I say again, because no way. But pulling my phone from my pocket talls a different story. "Oh. Wait did you say she wants me there?"
     "Yes you idiot! Get your ass to the hospital already. So come on," he waves me with him,so I assume he's going to take me. I leave my useless phone on the coffee table and grab my leather jacket, locking the door behind me.
     "Can you drive? I hate driving other people," he tosses me the keys before I can even answer. "I'll text Kirstie with my charged phone that we're on our way."
     "Can you not be snarky for like one second?" I snap in frustration as we get into the car, I'm not mad at him, only me because I'm stupid and I didn't charge my phone.
     "It's called sass, and I live for it."
     "Sorry."
     "It's fine, I'm worried too, even if babies are totally gross, Kirstie's is somewhat less gross."
      I'd missed Mitch, it had been ages since I'd last seen him, probably just over a year. And today he just came busting in like nothing had changed. Busting is probably a strong word though, he did knock. I mean we more haven't gone the whole small talk thing, could be the worry for Marcia, or that we just don't need to, or Kirstie's already told him everything.
     That last one worries me, because there could be several versions of everything. Like the what I did everything, or the she caught up with me again everything, since there doesn't seem to be any other likely options I just have to hope it's no the first one.
      The drive is silent, but not awkward, I concentrate on driving and he is on his phone the whole time.
     "It was this hospital right?" I suddenly ask as I pull into a parking lot.
     "Oh shit." He looks up and around, "I hope so. Let me text her again."
     We wait for a moment for the confirmation that it is in fact the right hospital, and I run in. Mitch is quite a way behind me, but I don't care. Sprinting into the baby ward I spot Kirstie immediately, her hair haphazard and tears streaming down her face, she had what must be vomit all down her front and she was wringing her hand together. What kind of people leave a mother like this when they're treating her baby.
     "Kirstie!" As I'm walking towards her she turns and then runs at me, despite the vomit I hug her close as she wraps her arms around me and cries into my chest.
     "How's Marcia?"
     "I don't know!" she sobs. "They won't tell me."
     "Well we'll make them tell you," Mitch speaks up as he finally appears. "I'll give them shit, tell me who to yell at first!"
     Kirstie points to a lady sat behind a reception desk and Mitch storms over to her, slamming his hands down. It occurs to me while listening to Kirstie speak to us that they maybe haven't told her anything because she's almost hysterical and they possibly haven't caught what she's saying. But that's me trying to be optimistic, if that's even possible right now.
     We just want to know that Marcia's okay.

A/N: Mitch was fun, but other than that what have I done...