Stand By Me.

Chapter 3: Butt-Crack Boy.

        Two days later, most of my family left, with the exception of my parents and my brother, Jake. Ruby had to go back to college. Three days after that, my parents left.

        "Bye honey. We love you so so so much. They'll keep us updated and we'll videochat at least twice a day, if not more, and you can call or text whenever you want. We'll come down here as often as we possibly can. We'll see you in about 3 weeks from now. We love you!" My mom says while crying and kissing my head.

        "Bye. See you soon. Love you." Jake says. He's a bit awkward in these situations. He lets himself out. My dad starts pulling my mom away from me.

        "Mary, come on. You're making it harder on her. We love you more than you will ever know, Henri. See you in a couple weeks, buttercup." He says while practically dragging my mom to the taxi waiting at the front. Fortunately, they think that by tomorrow I'll be able to move in my actual room. Granted, it's still techinically a hospital room, but I can decorate it and stuff and it's bigger and I can have non-family visitors so it'll be good. I look over at my phone that's across the room. I want to get it but I look back down at my two legs (or lack thereof) and push the button on the little remote thingy that alerts my nurse. The same short-haired woman from the airport rushes in.

        "What ya need sweetie?" She asks in a slightly Bostonian accent.

        "Um... my phone... it's across the room." I say, starting to tear up.

        "Oh honey, don't cry. It'll be okay, I promise." She says, picking up my phone. She pushes the middle button and light casts over her face. "Ooo, you have 263 unread messages. Popular girl." She says, and hands me my phone. Most of them are from my best friend, Abby. The rest are from my other friends, students I don't really know, and completely unknown numbers. I start reading, adding names in my contacts, responding. I get a FaceTime alert. I answer it, and Abby's blonde hair and brown eyes illuminate the screen.

        "Oh Henri, thank God. I heard about the... yeah. And you living in Chicago now. Exciting. An your hair! It's short!" She says, looking to be on the verge of tears. I hear a knock on the door. The nurse, Lacie, I believe her ID badge said, was gone.

        "Come in!" I yell in my dry, crackly voice. The door opens slowly and low and behold, Butt-Crack Boy is standing in my door way. "Uh Abby, I gotta go. I'll call back as soon as I can." I say.

        "Okay, by-" I turn Face Time off.

        "May I help you?" I ask. He walks in slowly, this time actually wearing jeans under the hospital gown. Still carting around his IV though.

        "Yeah. Just came by to say hi. How you doing?" He asks. He sounds generally less crazy than yesterday, although it could just be the lack of ass in my field of vision.

        "I mean, other than being legless, I'm great." I say.

        "Good. I don't know if you're well enough yet, but the other cancerous losers and I play poker Tuesday nights and I wanted to know if you were at all interested." He says.

        "Um, I mean, I don't know if I can. And I don't really know you. And I know this will come out sounding incredibly weird but I saw your ass a few days ago and it's still kinda freaking me out. Does everyone here traipse around in hospital gowns?" I ask.

        "If you're well enough come along, it's fun. We have no money to bet, but hypo-dermic needles, catheters and bed-pans are often in place of paper currency. And no, not everyone wears hospital gowns, I just happen to be incredibly confident, and why wouldn't I, you would agree, my ass is pretty sweet. Some other people wear them too, but mostly because they're pretty comfortable and we have no one really to impress. In fact, I'm only wearing pants now because Dr. DiMargot said if I'm leaving my room, I must hide my sweet ass so all you little pervy girls don't lose your shit." He said matter-of-factly.

        "Yes, I'm sure it went exactly like that." I say.

        "Exactly. Everyone here agree, if asses were to be voted on, mine would be the sweetest." He says, smug. I crack up.

        "You're crazy! No one talks like this!" I say in between bursts of laughter.

        "No one except for Milo friggin' Harrison!" He says, also laughing at his own craziness.

        "Ah, and thus Butt-Crack Boy has a name." I say, still laughing.

        "Yes. And thus, I will probably go forever without knowing New Girl's real name. What a shame." He says.

        "Ha, you rhymed." I say. He looks at me dead on.

        "New Girl, take a hint. What's your name, please and thank you?" He asks. I almost lose it again.

        "Henri Walter." I say.

        "Henri Walter. Fabulous. I'm guessing your parents were expecting a boy or is it short for like Henrietta or something?" He adds.

        "Actually, no. Shocker I know. But they just decided, hey, let's give our daughter a weird name so she can be mercilessly be made fun of in the 2nd grade." I say still laughing. It honestly doesn't upset me.

        "Well weird name Henri, if you are up to it, poker is tonight at 7:00. Be sure to bring betting materials of your choice. The grosser and odder, the higher the value." He says. I nod. he nods. Dr. DiMargot's shoes tap down the hallway. Milo gets wide-eyed.

        "Well, I believe that's my cue to leave. See you around." he says and winks. Winks! A very cute, very odd boy with a good sense of humor just winked at me and I sat there like an idiot. Smooth. I wonder if it would kill me if I played poker tonight.

        "Well