Mr Rude & Me (Undergoing Editing)

(60): Hospital Room

Kyle's POV

(a quick recap incase you guys forgot)

I'm about to turn the corner leading to the waiting room when I bump into someone causing the can of coke that was in their hand to go rolling down. I quickly recover it and get up to hand it to the person.

My eyes widen at the sight and I swear I stop breathing.

"Kyle?"

"RJ?"

Oh god.

***

"Wha-what are you doing here?" She stutters, looking shocked to the core.

This is really RJ. It's her, right in front of me. My sister that- until a month ago- I thought was dead. She's here. I'm looking at her. She's looking at me. Good lord.

She hasn't changed much, she just has blonde hair now and obviously doesn't look as young as she did back then.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

She's still gaping, scanning my face carefully "I, uh, I came here to visit a friend. Kind of"

Chelsea-Anne.

"Oh" I murmur.

I don't know what to say. I'm so happy to see her but I'm also so very angry. Does she know what she put me through the last three years? Why didn't she just contact me and tell me she was okay? Why? I spent everyday of my life blaming myself... and for fucking what?!

For nothing. Nothing.

"You haven't told me what you're doing here?" She says after a while of silence.

Here goes nothing.

"I'm here for Chelsea-Anne" I say.

Her eyes widen and so does her mouth as she starts to chock before recovering "Chelsea-Anne Richards? You know her?"

"Yes"

"What?! How?"

"She's my girlfriend... or at least she's about to be" I drag, still kind of in awe that I'm actually speaking to my sister. I'm still angry though.

RJ breathes a deep sigh, looking to digest and contemplate the words I've just said "Wait... so Chelsea knows you, and she knows me? Does she... uh, does she know about...?"

"About what?" I bite agitated.

I can see RJ's eyes soften at my tone "That I'm your sister? And that I, uh..."

"You what?"

I want her to say it.

"Kyle, please" She croaks, giving me a desperate look "I don't think this is the time or place to have this discussion"

"A discussion? That's what this is?" I laugh sarcastically; bitterly "I can't believe you"

She looks hurt as her eyes start to water "You hate me, don't you? You have every right to. I swear I don't blame you at all"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I half-shout angrily, throwing my hands in the air "All these years I thought you were fucking dead! I was always on your side and you didn't fucking tell me"

"I'm sorry!" She cries, lips quivering.

I can't bring myself to feel bad.