Confessions of a Bad Boy // Slowly Editing

Chapter Eight- This Wardrobe Definitely Wasn't Narnia

Chapter Eight- This Wardrobe Definitely Wasn't Narnia☑

I had spent the whole weekend with Brie cooped up in my hospital room. We watched movie after movie and joked like old times. She filled me in on everything since we had our fight.

Turns out Brie had liked Laine just as long as I had liked him. But she kept her mouth shut about it because she didn't want me to get mad...because she cared. I felt guilty because she had to keep this secret to herself.

It wasn't until, over the summer when I was in North Carolina, she saw more and more of him. Turns out they went to the same party one weekend and she was in trouble with some drunk guy. He played her hero too and the rest as they say, is history.

They found they had a lot in common and they were both baseball fans. I wasn't a super fan like those two-so I guess it worked out.

Brie and Laine hung out afterwards and got to know each other even more. They shared their hopes and aspirations. Both came from big families and wanted one of their own- something I personally didn't want. Laine wanted to be a politician and Brie wanted to be a humanitarian. Which if you think about it-goes hand in hand.

One person wants to lead the community and the other wants to improve it. They could seriously be like the Obama's.

I expected to feel angry and hurt that they were perfect for each other. But as Brie talked more and more about Laine, I realized he wasn't all I had made him out to be. He was however everything Brie wanted and I couldn't have been any happier.

And yes, I was genuinely happy.

But the weekend was over and Brie had to be home. We had been once again joined at the hip. We were back to being Thelma and Louise. Back to ourselves at ground zero.

I checked out of the hospital Monday morning and it was a god awful day.  Not because of my recent revelation, and all those years wasted drooling over a guy that was never meant to be. Oh no, it was much worse than that-more heart breaking. More epically tragic.

I was on mom watch all day. I swear if I had to eat one more bowl of, chicken noodle soup, I was going to croak! I'm stitched up-- not sick. And it was seventy degrees outside, I didn't need chicken noodle soup! I needed Ben & Jerry's!

"Alright sweetie I've brought you another bowl of soup. Eat up." Mom commanded as she barged into my room with the umpteenth bowl of the day. My face probably turned a garish shade of green because mom frowned, "You don't look so well, are you feeling sick?" She asked before she placed her hand on my cheek checking for a fever.

Yes. I'm sick of chicken noodle soup and your constant smothering.

"No mom. I'm actually feeling really-really good. So healthy and strong." I lied flexing my scrawny pale arms. I was actually feeling quite horrible. I was pretty sure that 80% of my body's weight was actually chicken noodle soup now.

"Fantastic! Now eat up my little monkey." She gushed, pinching my cheeks before strolling out of the room.

I sighed and looked at the ghastly soup. I pushed it away before something caught my eye-the window. Without a second thought I walked to my bay window, with the soup in one hand. I lifted up the seal, wincing a bit from the pain shooting up my side.

But it was worth it.

I glared at the soup one last time and uttered a few choice words. But I'll just give you the PG version of it.

"You are the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Burn in hell." I growled, before throwing the vile thing out the window.

Walking back to my bed I heard an ear-piercing scream. Running back to the window, I clasped my hand over my mouth, for two reasons. One out shock that the damn soup actually landed on someone, and two to keep from laughing. I made it rain chicken noodle soup on the bad boy.