Teardrops

Chapter 21: So Why?

Chapter 21

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Lexi's POV

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"Lexi?" I heard a male voice ask, and it wakened me from my unrestful slumber.

"HUH?" I mumbled, slowly coming to wakefulness. The voice seemed to be tinged with a bit of amusement as he added, "We could've added a few extra beds in here, you know."

I opened my eyes, and, after stretching, glanced around the room at what Dr. Michael must have seen. Me, sleeping in a chair in what must have been a hilariously uncomfortable position, as my neck was sore, and Donny was half off the bed, half on the bed, his lower half balancing precariously on the chair. Shelly was adorable, as always, and her long brown hair was splayed out on the pillow like a fan, and she had one hand tucked under her cheek, the other being grasped by Donny.

It took me a minute to realize that Dr. Michaels was still there and didn't know who Donny was. I jumped up and attempted to fix my hair, gesturing with my other hand to the boy sleeping next to Shelly, "That's my little brother, Donny, he uh-"

"He likes her?" He asked, and I blushed, not knowing why, as I nodded, "Yeah, something like that."

"Shall we go for a walk? I'd like to discuss something with you and there's no need for those two to wake up and overhear us."

I smirked to myself, knowing for a fact that 'those two' were already awake and had played dead, so to speak, in the hopes of hearing something.

"Good idea, doctor," I smiled at his back as he led the way out.

In the gardens, again. The day was bright and cheerful and new, and the birds kept singing cheerfuly in a rather annoying way.

"Those shameless birds, them." Dr. Michaels muttered, holding his head momentarily in both of his seasoned hands. It's been commented in many books and movies that I've read and seen that people's hands can tell a lot about a person. Assuming real life should be no different, I stare at his hands.

They are large and slightly tanned, suggesting sun, also, his fingers are calloused where one might hold a pencil, as well as the tips of his fingers, particularly the pointer, middle, and index finger of his left hand, although the tips of all fingers seem to be slightly rough.

So he types a lot and plays guitar. Well that's interesting. I never knew that.

You're right, Lyssa, this game of actually paying attention to people is easier then it looks.

...Oh. I forgot. Lyssa is gone.

Desperate for a distraction, I ask the first question that comes to my mind.

...big mistake.

"How long have you been playing guitar?'

"What?" he asks me, shocked. His intelligent brown eyes turn to look at me incredulously, "How did you know I play guitar?"

"Psychic," I grin at him, pleased.

"Since a few years ago."

"Oh, ok." I look around, even more desperate for a distraction now. On a nearby tree, a moth slowly opens and closes it's wings. The designs on it's wings look like eyes or knots in wood.

"Anyways, I apologize for dragging you out here and then getting lost in my own thoughts. How very rude of me. I wanted to talk to you about the charity fund. The specialists have decided than an open heart surgery would probably be the most effective way of getting rid of the cancer permanently, but it comes at a great risk. I want to set up 2 different accounts, one to pay for the surgery and others to pay for her hospital bills until that time. What do you say?" I dragged my eyes away from the moth and towards Dr. Michaels.