Useless (A Hank Zipzer FanFiction)

Sometime soon

"We're doing what!?" I looked at Nick like he'd just slapped me. He pretty much had.
"Amber, I know that you hate it just as much as I do but we have to."
"Nuh-uh, I'm not kissing you for a school play, it's disgusting."
"Agreed-" I interrupted nicks sentence,
"I'll quit then."
"No you fucking won't Amber, we both auditioned for this and knew that if we both got the part would have to kiss. Plus, it will make everyone less suspicious. Nobody in their right mind would smog their sibling."

You might be wondering what that was all about. Well, let me tell you. Westbrook academy is having a play, and the main characters-played by Nick and I- have to kiss. I was about to get dad to write in a letter, to let me leave, but Nick wouldn't let me. I was pretty much about to kill Nick and everybody else, yet there was something that I couldn't bring myself to do. I had been raised right, if anything better than other people because I had to work for almost everything I had. And I knew that life wasn't fair, unlike some people.

I walked into the living room, and sat down in my favorite chair. Flicking on the TV I decided to take everything out on the air. I turned the TV back off, and went into the basement, where Hank and Frankie seemed to be discussing something. More accurately somebody. "Hankster you gotta tell her."
"And how am I supposed to do that without making it obvious that I like her?"
Stab count: 1
"She's not gonna be into him, that guy sucks."
"But what if she actually feels that way towards him?"
"Then you gotta break him down."
Stab count: 2
"No chance, she'd just hate me even more."
Stab count: 3

I was contemplating going into the basement, yet Frankie's loud voice stopped me. "She's gonna snog McKelty, if you want her, you gotta try before the play."
The idiots are talking about me.

"Hey." I said to the two of them, looking away from Hank, hoping that he didn't see my blush.
"Did you hear any of that conversation?"
Only the part where you confessed your feelings to me.
"No, why?" I lied. I had to.
"Good. Anyway, what are you doing?"
"I was gonna practice sword fighting, but I can leave if you want me to?" I responded, adding the question in to be nice, yet hoping that they wouldn't make me.
"No." "Yes." Frankie and Hank responded at exactly the same time.
"I mean yes you can stay." Frankie quickly corrected himself, blushing slightly. Wait, blushing!?

I was then swinging my sword around, hoping that it wouldn't cut yet another person. Hank stood up from the dust-covered couch, making me stop my sequence. "Amber, you know how I wanted to learn how to sword fight? Can you teach me now, my cut's healed?"
"Yeah, let's hope you aren't as rubbish as Frankie though." I said, a joking tone laced into every syllable. Frankie chuckled softly, before checking his phone and announcing that he had to leave, not really convincingly lying to us.

"Awesome, try a flick after the second spar though, it makes it look better."
"Amber, try to not be focused on looks for once." Hank replied with a cheeky smile adorning his handsome face. I was falling for him so damn hard it hurt.
"Just do it you git." Hank then swing around the sword with a perfect flick, making him a worthy opponent when fighting. He was now in with an improvised sequence, and the way his muscles moved under his shirt made me drool. Quite literally.
"You alright there love." Hank said to me, coming up and looking me in the eyes.
"Um, uh y-yeah, thank." I stuttered, not even able to finish the phrase 'thank you.'
"Your nervous Amber, aren't you?"
Yes, but who wouldn't be when their crush is standing three feet in front of them?
"Yeah, I-I guess."
"And why would that be?"
He took a step toward me, keeping his eyes fixated on mine.
Because I'm practically in love with you.
"Because I kind of, um, like-like you?" I told him, however it came out sounding more like a question. He took another step, which made me take one back. I was now against a wall, my sword long forgotten on the floor, and Hank was pretty much free to do whatever he liked with me.
"I like-like you too, Amber Elizabeth Kuhl."
Another step. He was now pressed tightly against me, and I was stuck between him and the wall, not that I was complaining. His eyes flickered down to my lips, as if seeking permission. I slowly leaned up to kiss him, as he was slightly taller than me. And just as his lips were about to come into contact with mine...

"Hank! Amber! Frankie's in hospital!" Ashley came running into the basement, and Hank quickly went for a hug rather than a kiss. "Sometime soon, Amber Elizabeth Kuhl, my lips will be on yours. I swear on my life." Ashley took both of our hands and we went up to Hank's apartment, where his mum told us she would take us to the hospital.

The hospital was a huge white building, with near perfect symmetry. It loomed over us, intimidating us with its fourteen flours of terrifying-ness. Hank held onto my hand, he knew how much I hated hospitals, how they couldn't save my parents. I gripped his tightly, probably cutting off the poor kids circulation, but if I hadn't I was completely sure my face would come into contact with the floor in a graceless way. We went towards the front desk, and told the lady who we needed to see. "Townsend... Hmm, I see a Franklin Townsend, room 703. It's in the ICU, go out of the lift and take a left, it should be the first door after the Cleaners Closet." ICU, that was bad news. ICU meant intensive care, intensive care meant bad injury. I wonder what happened to Frankie. We're about to find out.

Floor seven. The four of us left the cramped lift and took a left. We seemed to be walking through an endless corridor when we finally saw a Cleaners Cupboard, and room 703 just beside it. We went in and gawped at what we saw. Frankie was hooked up to a bunch of crazy machines, some of them beeping, others whirring, and others doing weird stuff. He had a drip connected to his arm, where he was being fed water and medication, as well as what was likely morphine. His chest was wrapped up in bandages, and a couple of them seemed to have already soaked through with blood. I looked down at the clipboard at the end of his bed, however the words seemed to float off the page and into oblivion.  Ashley seemed to notice my confusion and promptly looked at the clipboard, reading the important parts out to Hank, Rosa, and I. "Gunshot wound: 0.95 caliber pistol, only bullet in chamber. Shot at roughly twelve meters, hit his rib cage narrowly missing his lung. Survival rate: 43rd percentile." Hank and I looked at Ashley as if she had just spoken the last sentence in Russian. "It means that out of every 100 people that have the same injury as Frankie, 48 survive, so for him it's pretty much 50/50, as he's very healthy, surprisingly." Ashley responded somberly, extremely saddened by the possibility of Frankie not waking up from what seemed to be a coma.

Yay, an update. I really want to continue this book, and will get rid of the 'off hiatus, on hiatus' chapters, as otherwise people might simply give up after the 'off hiatus'. Thank you so so so much for supporting me, I don't have a plan for this book though, so it will probably go in crazy directions. Anyway, please don't forget to vote, comment, and share if you liked.
Comment "Christmas" if you read this