Chapter 11

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Preston and Cassandra were talking in the middle of the group of kids being led around Cincinnati. Joe was walking next to Charles while Alice pouted in front of them.

“Why haven’t we seen a hospital yet?!” Cassandra vented, annoyed.

“Hospitals don’t grow on trees,” Preston said.

“It’s Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, and we’re in Cincinnati. I haven’t seen any hospitals.” Cassandra scowled, then seemed to get an idea. “Okay, Preston, I’ve got an idea. And don’t worry; it’ll only hurt a little.”

“What is it?” Preston asked with an anxious look on his face. Something leads me to believe this won’t just hurt a little, he thought. The things I’ll do for love.

“You need to break your leg somehow, and then you can get rushed to a hospital!”

“No! Break Cary’s leg! His is already broken,” he replied.

“It’s not good to break a leg twice, though.”

“You see, I was always under the impression that it wasn’t good to break your leg at all.”

“Seriously, it’s really bad to break your leg when your leg is already broken.”

“Why are you talking about my legs?” Cary said, appearing behind them.

“No, we’re talking about my legs,” Preston said.

“Cary, Preston, and Cassandra! Stop talking about each other’s legs!” the teacher yelled at the head of the group with a very confused expression on his face.

They busted out laughing, causing Joe, Charles, and Alice to stare. Martin and Martina ran up to them, abandoning Charles and Joe completely.

“What’s going on? Why are you talking about each other’s legs?” Martin asked.

“Well, you see, we were talking about hospitals, and then we digressed,” Cassandra explained.

“Evidently,” Martin said, trying to find the invisible line connecting hospitals and legs.

“Why are you looking for hospitals, Cary?” Martina asked.

“No reason… Just…”

“WORRIED ABOUT HIS BROKEN LEG!” Preston cut in. I’m a genius, he thought.

“Preston! Stop talking about legs!” the teacher yelled, more confused than ever, much to the children’s immense amusement.

“Aww, Cary, I’ll take care of you,” Martina said, hugging Cary’s upper arm.

Cassandra and Preston snickered quietly; Martin, not so quietly. Cary tried extremely hard not to wriggle out of her embrace. Oh God, it’s like Martin’s hugging me. Then he couldn’t fight temptation and gently shook her off.

“Well, if you need to go to a hospital,” Martina said, “I can make up something to get us there.”

The three looked at each other and exchanged glances.

“Like what?” Cassandra asked.

“An asthma attack.”

“But…But…” Cassandra started.

“No, it’ll be fake.” I’d hope so! Cassandra thought.

“But…But…” Wait, why is she helping us?

Martina started wheezing and clutching her chest.

“This isn’t…” Cassandra sighed in exasperation, seeing Martina could not be stopped, before shouting, “MR. ROBINSON!!! MARTINA’S HAVING AN ASTHMA ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!”

“Where’s her inhaler? Where’s her inhaler?!” the kids were rushing around.

“Call 9-1-1,” Martina whispered between her supposed futile gasps for breath.

“On it,” Cary said, calmly strutting to a pay phone.

Preston patted Martina on the back.

“Just keep—I—How are you so good at this?”

Cassandra was wondering the same thing. Why was she helping them…?

She started looking around, checking the panic levels.

She made eye contact with Joe, who was staring at her with an aggravatingly unreadable expression—was that anger? Or confusion?

He glanced at Martina, who was doubling over, on the verge of collapsing, then back at Cassandra. Then his expression was as clear as day.

It was a questioning glance.

Cassandra slowly nodded her head.

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