It's All His Fault

Him

"Stella!" my mom snapped me out. I had started to stare off into space.

I cleared my throat, "Yeah, Mom?"

"I said," she sighed, "I'll be fine why don't you go do something fun okay? I don't like you just sitting around being depressed and doing nothing while I sit in this hospital bed."

"Mom.." I started but she interrupted me.

"No, Stella. None of that. Go! Have fun! Get drunk! Be a teenager! Just please, I don't want everything to just stop because I'm sick. Cancer has taken enough already." She waved her hands enthusiastically and gestures to herself and to my leg, well my fake leg.

I had lost mine to cancer when I was in third grade. It was rough but I was lucky. I've been NEC for the past six years. I've just learned to live with knowing that it could come back at any moment. I didn't expect it to come back in the form of my mother. Stage three. Ovarian Cancer. Evidence of possible tumors to form in her breasts and lungs as well.

"You really want me to get drunk, Mom?" I have a half smirk half smile.

"I don't care, Stell." She raised her arms and grabbed her pillow.

"Just get...out...of...here!" She hit me over the head with it.

"Okay! Okay! I'm going. I'll see you later, Mom. I love you." I laughed half-heartedly.

"I love you too, Peanut. I'll see you later."

I waved and then walked out into the hallway. Cold. Clean. Too clean. There was too much white so I felt like I was drowning. I took a deep breath and walked to the elevator. When I got there, there was a boy who looked about my age leaning against the wall next to the pad with the buttons. He nodded his head towards me and I raised my eyebrow as if to say, Can I help you?

That was my natural response to any kind of human interaction. But this kid was different than other people, he actually had the audacity to laugh.

"Is there something funny that I should know about?" I snapped.

He gave me a classic trouble maker smirk and winked.

"Nope, it's just that you obviously are well behind in social graces. I was just being a respectable human and acknowledging your existence unlike most of the population these days" I scrunched my eyebrows together and wrinkled my nose.

"Is that so?" he nodded. "Well good for you Mr. Socrates, and thank you for trying to spread your "wisdom" with me but I'm really just fine" I made air quotes with my fingers when I said the word wisdom just because I honestly couldn't care less about what he had to say.

The jerk again thought that this was funny as the asshole raised his eyebrows...and burst out laughing.
"So...Socrates, huh?" He asked.

"Do you have a problem with Socrates?"

"Nope none at all." He smiled at me again and it was really starting to annoy me at this point.

"Good well I'm done with this conversation so thank you for wasting my time."

"Ouch," he pretended to look hurt then winked at me again. "I'm just kidding, I like you, you're funny."

"Oh really?" I rolled my eyes.

He stopped leaning against the wall and stood up straight. Oh god, he was tall. Taller than me by at least six inches. He wasn't hard on the eyes either. Kind of a combination of young Leo DiCaprio and Chris Evans when he was in Not Another Teen Movie.

He stuck out his hand for me to shake.
"I'm Hunter. And you are?"

"Too good for you." I blurted out and I really didn't mean to.

"I see...well I'll be on my way gotta go say goodbye to my mom. I only came up to this floor for a soda which I already drank so I'm going to go get another one now. I've been waiting on this elevator for the past ten minutes. Bye." He walked away and I gave him a sour smirk because all I wanted to do was go home and watch the Office.

It was then I realized two things.

1. He had never pressed the button for the elevator.
2. There was a note stuck to the wall with my name on it.

It read:
Hey Stella,
It's me, Hunter. The dude you were just talking to. Here's my number, call me.
574-440-4856. ;)

What the f-