Better Off Alone✔

€hapter 23:

Alex's POV

Two weeks later

   "Okay, but seriously. Do you really think that Andy Black is GARBAGE!?!?" K.C screams in a jokingly but angry voice.

   "No, I never said that. I just think everyone idolizes him too much. They never really look at the entire band as one, you know. I mean most people don't even know any of the band members' names apart from Andy. " I reply.

   I cross my arms over my chest and sigh. I really miss sleeping in my own bed. I mean, these hospital chairs are seriously uncomfortable.

   I haven't been home in almost two weeks and I've only been outside whenever I absolutely need to.

Paris seems to be doing well, I guess. I mean, I can't really tell. She's not actually awake to tell me how she feels.

   I just hope she doesn't wake up and never want to see me again.

   I mean, it's not like she heard anything I said when I was first able to see her the night after the crash.

   "Okay, I guess I see your point. Honestly, I don't really know any of the band members' names by heart. I know CC, Jinxx, and Andy; apart from that, I really don't actually know any one else."  K.C responds, rolling her eyes.

   "Hey guess what?!" She sqeals in excitement.

  I raise my eyebrows in response, but it's not like I'm really into what she has to say. It's not that I don't like her, I just can't concentrate lately.

   "Well, I met this new girl at Walmart yesterday. It's a funny story actually, I was checking out..."

   I wonder off into a different dimension of questions that have no answers.

    I wonder if Paris will accept my proposal. Of course I want nothing more than to have her as mine forever, but hell, I doubt she'll even want to speak to me.

   I look at her calm face, the same blank expression plastered on it. The same one that's been there day after day for the past two weeks.

   The only think that's changed is the cuts and bruises that slowly started fading. Healing without pause.

   It's sad, actually. The fact that no one has been here to see her except for K.C and I.

   One day, last week, a Social Worker showed up ranting on about how no one could get ahold of her parents. Or any relative, for that matter.

   She said she'd return once Paris was awake and able to communicate, but I don't want her to return.

   I don't want her to take Paris away from me.

   Suddenly, there's a pair fingers snapping furiously in my face.

   They're K.C's of course, and I look at her annoyingly, but drop my expression as soon as I meet her gaze.

   Her glazed-over eyes are looking at Paris's left hand.

   "She moved..."