Not Crazy | ✓

twenty eight

m a r c u s

"Marcus, right?" The doctor in charge of Francis, Mr Ross, said as he took off his square framed glasses.

Marcus nodded as he got up from his chair. "What is his condition? Will he be fine?"

The doctor smiled widely. "Close to dying, but he is one lucky boy I must say," he explained in his thick french accent. "He's awake, you can go see him. I'll send the nurse in a while."

Marcus heaved a sigh of relief. Since Francis started having trouble with his best friend, he had been sort of a friend to him. And he really did not know why he hadn't been there for him before.

He sweeped his hair aside and made way towards his friends ward room. Once he reached inside, he instantly noticed the multiple wires attached to Francis, the cast attached to his leg and the bandage on his head.

This was a sight Marcus had never seen in his life. Not with a friend and not with a family. He was shocked.

"Hi Francis," he greeted him with a despondent smile, grateful to see his face.

Francis smiled back as if nothing had happened to him. "Hi Marcus. Good to see you."

Marcus sat on the seat next to the hospital bed and looked at his friend. "Good to see you. The doctor told me that you would've died," he sighed. "Be thankful that you're here. I sure am."

Francis tried to move a little in the bed but hissed when pain supposedly shot throughout his body. He bit his lips and stayed static for a while.

"Should I go call the nurse?" Marcus asked, worried, as he glanced at the door.

"I-I'm fine," he replied after a while. "How are the other two?"

"Ashley and Brandon are alright and are in their rooms," Marcus told him. "I told the class to stay with them till we hear news any about you. In fact, I'll go in a while and call them here."

"Did you find the culprit?" Francis questioned, ignoring what Marcus had said.

"Nope," he shook his head. "Though," he paused as if carefully choosing his words. "I suspect Sasha and Mathew. Sasha despised you for some reason and wants you to suffer. This seems like her work."

"She has no reason to," came back his croaked reply. "I mean, she was the one cheated on me and not me. Why would she do this? Besides, it did not look like them. They were in the car b-behind us."

He sighed again. "They could easily hire someone, man," Marcus argued, giving an icy look to the floor as rage piled up in him. "She didn't even come to visit you once. And neither did Mathew. It has to be them, yes."

"God knows better,"

"Oh, and I forgot to tell you," he took out Francis's phone from his pocket. "There was a girl-"

"Look!" Someone screamed just then. "Francis is awake!"

And then one by one his classmates swarmed inside his room as two of them went to call the others. Sighs of relief were taken and careful hugs were given to the bruised boy. They were glad to have him back.

And Marcus, he was also glad to see his friend. He knew that no one would've been as happy to see him as he was. Because he was a loner, and Francis had been his friend when no one had been.

He helped Francis and Francis helped him. And as girlish as this seemed, he couldn't help but feel giddy whenever he thought about this fact.

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