That Stupid Little L-Word:

Chapter Twenty Five:

I call Miley the moment Blue-Eyes leaves my house for the night, even though my entire body aches with the effort. Watching kiddie movies and cuddling with my new boyfriend took a lot out of me, and now I wobble over to my computer chair. It's easier to roll around my room rather than limp. My eyes glance at the clock, and I pause a moment. It's three o'clock in the morning.

But my excitement can not be hindered by a mere hour of the night --no matter how late it may be. I am ready to burst, and I need to tell someone now.

She answers on the second ring with a groggy, "Alice?"

The squeal that escapes my mouth is unnatural. "Guess who has a boyfriend?"

That seems to wake her up a bit, and I hear a rustling noise through the phone. "What?" she exclaims excitedly, "Did Devon finally ask you out?"

That makes me pause, "Wait, what?"

I can almost hear Miley's palm smacking against her forehead. "Never mind. I just thought...never mind. So tell me about your new boyfriend?"

"Seth," I breathe into the phone like a creepy stalker, and stare out my window. My crutches lean against the wall to my right; the plastic-like metal rods glinting dully against the moonlight that seeps into my bedroom.

Miley is silent for a few moments. "Seth?" she repeats slowly, "As in Seth Hampton?"

"Yeah!" It takes all my strength not to bounce up and down.

"Oh." Her tone is weird, almost disappointed. It completely pierces through my happiness and my eyes narrow.

"What?" I demand.

She makes a strange sound; a sigh masked within a cough to clear her throat. My fingers drum impatiently against the cold windowsill as I wait for her to explain why in the world she isn't as happy about this as I am. I expected squealing and an over enthusiastic congratulations.

Not...this.

"Well," Miley seems to be carefully choosing her words. She pauses and I hear some more rustling from her side as she moves around. "I just don't know what to say, Alice," she whispers finally. "He doesn't have a good reputation. I'm trying not to judge; I'm just trying to look out for you. I don't want you to end up hurt."

A burst of anger swells up inside my throat. I quickly swallow it back. That was not what I was expecting to hear. She has to just be jealous or something.  Everyone seems to like Blue-Eyes just fine.

"Oh, and you think Devon won't hurt me?" I snap into the phone.

"Devon is really sweet," I can almost hear her grin stretch from ear to ear. "Trust me, I've known him forever. He may have a bit of a temper, but that's all. And he really likes you, can't you tell? He talks about you all the time. He would be so perfect for you."

I roll my eyes. She obviously has no clue about what had happened the day before, or why I missed school today. "No, not really. I must have missed the announcement where running people over in their car is now a socially acceptable way to confess your undying love for them."

Her confusion bubbles through her tone, "What?"

"That's why I didn't come to school today, Miley," I sigh into the phone. "I got hit by a car, broke my leg and have a nasty concussion. Seth saved my life, and ended up breaking an arm in the process."

"Oh my gosh," Miley sounds horrified.

"And guess who was behind the wheel?" I am now enjoying this. Her perfect little Devon is no longer so perfect; and even she can't bitch about me preferring Blue-Eyes now. The dude broke my leg and hurt my brain with his car. Blue-Eyes saved my life. He is the hero, whereas Devon is the villain in this mediocre play.

Why in the world would I actually let him into my pants after that?

Miley lets out a strange sound, "What?" The disbelief that drips from the single word is almost insulting. She sputters a bit and then says, "Devon couldn't have done something like that."

"Well, he did," I made a face. He probably didn't mean to, and I didn't honestly hold it against him. I just didn't like him, and I needed Miley to know why Blue-Eyes was absolutely perfect --especially compared to her best friend. 

"Seriously?"

I nod, even though she can't see it. "Just ask him about it tomorrow, and see how he reacts. You'll see." 

Miley falls silent for a little bit. Then she sighs, "Are you coming tomorrow?" 

"Are you kidding?" I snort, "I feel like shit. My head has been killing me, and at the moment I take so much pain medication that I'm a walking drug-store. For the sake of all the druggies in our school, I have decided to skip, and spare them the torment." 

I can almost hear her roll her eyes, "You're so noble." 

I let out a dreamy sigh, "I know." 

She scoffs. I hear her sigh again, and my eyes flicker toward the clock. It's close to four, which means that the awkward silence thing that's going on between our phones right now means that we're about to say goodbye and she's about to fall asleep. I let out a sigh too, and start counting down. 

"Well," she drawls, before I can even get to four, "I guess it's time to go. I need some sleep before tomorrow, if I expect to be coherent." 

I chuckle, "Sucks for you. I just have a television show to catch up on tomorrow." 

"Ha ha," she groans, "Not everyone is so lucky." 

I remain silent. I don't really consider getting struck by a car as a sign of luck --though, surviving that hit might be. She pauses in her babble, "Gosh, I didn't mean it like that. Like you need to stay home and rest and recover. You've had one hell of a week." 

I crack a smile, "Hey, I got a super hot boyfriend out of it." 

She makes a disgusted noise. "Alright. I'm going to sleep. Call me tomorrow, at a decent hour." 

"I'll talk to you then," I hang up and toss my cell phone aside. It slides across my desk and, miraculously, topples to the floor with a cringe-worthy bang. I grimace and stare at the device. It's heavily armored, so I'm not concerned enough to get up and check on it. I return my gaze to the window. I watch the stars as they fight to twinkle against the dark night sky, with absolutely no help from the glow of the neighborhood lamp-lights. My thoughts twist toward Devon. The poor kid, he was probably having a pretty rough week too. 

My cell phone vibrates against the wooden floor. I jump at the sound, and my chair almost rolls out form beneath me. Once I am stable, I roll myself over to where the phone is on the floor and snatch it up. 

I squint at the screen and my heart skips a beat. 

My new boyfriend seems to be a night owl as well.