((I don't own the BSC. There are NO original characters, even though you
may think they are. Michel DuMoulin first appears in BSC SS 15, European
Vacation, and Zoey, Patrick's, er, third or fourth wife appears in BSC FF
1. I did not steal the car crash idea from Wickdgurl, the author of My
Girl, which, BTW, is an excellent story. I've had this idea for a few
months, and I've just gotten down to writing it. I went and changed this a
little, and I took out the French. It was way off.))
The hospital door slammed, as a young man entered the room. He was upset- no, upset wasn't the word for it. Michel DuMoulin was more devastated, for the girl he was truly in love with was in unconscious due to some asswhole drunk driver. Kristy's biological father came in behind him, and he, too, had slammed the door. Michel became a bit paler after he caught a glimpse of her; she looked even worse than her mother had described her over the phone. The bruises were supposedly huge, and the cuts from the broken glass were seemingly long, rigid lines. He glanced at the heart monitor; her heart rhythm seemed fine. Her hair was down and fairly messy, unlike the neat ponytail she'd normally keep it in. Her pajamas were even unlike her, fuzzy and a deep purple; the shirt that went with it had spaghetti straps. She would never were a spaghetti strap shirt, even if it was in bed. She would never even set foot into the store that the pajamas were bought it. He smiled at this thought, as Mr. Thomas, and Charlie- was it? - were in a heated discussion. He had no clue what it was about, he just kept staring at Kristy, as more people came into the room. The first girl looked a lot like Kristy, only her eyes were blue. That wasn't the only difference; this girl was dressed like she walked out of the Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. Other than that, it was spooky, and alright, the girl made him feel sicker. Seeing this girl was disgracing to Kris's own particular beauty in his opinion, for she was one of the most modest girls he had ever met. He kept staring at the bed, as someone touched his shoulder.
"Michel, are you going to be alright?"
"I won't be okay until my girlfriend is back to normal, or as normal as she is going to be after this, Abby."
Abby Stevenson now stood to the left of him, looking at him inquisitively.
"I think you and Mary Anne need to talk. She's really upset, but she doesn't know about Kristy and you. Kristy was going to tell her and Claud today."
A Japanese girl and some guy Michel had met on the European trip -Michel's mood became ever more so melancholy at this thought- walked toward them.
"Is Kristy getting any better? And what's Patrick doing here?"
"She's still unconscious," Abby shook her head, "but the doctors say she'll be up in no time. I have no clue what Patrick thinks he's doing."
"He's trying to be there for her- for once. It's only right for him to be here because he's her father."
"You call that right? Patrick abandoned Kristy and her brothers."
"She's forgiven him, therefore it is right."
"How do you know so much about her anyway?"
Claudia Kishi's almond shaped eyes flashed, as she wondered why this French- Canadian guy was here.
"Claudia, this is Michel DuMoulin, Kristy's boyfriend. He knows just as much- or more- about Kristy as anyone does in this room."
'Well, then, that's okay,' Claudia thought, 'wait a second! Kristy has a boyfriend?!'
"More- I know more than anyone here does."
"What do you know about her that we don't know?"
"Abby, I know what went on in your hotel the last night we were in Paris. I know what happened when Kristy and I got separated from the group in Paris- and you know she'll never tell anyone about b that /b. I know about the time when you lot were on a road trip and you ran into Mr. Thomas in San Francisco. I know about that Alan Gray stalking her in the seventh grade. I know about her ex-boyfriend, Bart. I know about the time Mr. Thomas was here in Stoneybrook and she had to lie to everyone to see him. I know about that one time where she failed a final."
"Kristy failed a final?"
"Unbelievable, isn't it? It happened though. First semester, French class, chapter five final exam, I think. It was the week I really pissed her off, I believe."
"Which week?"
"The week we broke up in October, and we got back together the next one after she admitted that she was wrong- for once."
"What happened in the hotel room?"
"We kissed for a good five minutes, until Stacey knocked on the door wondering were Kris had gone off to."
"Do you know what happened last time she was in California?"
"Her dad and stepmother got married, he and Charlie got into a major fight, and everybody lived happily ever after."
"Then you do know more than we do," Claudia looked astonished. "I didn't even know that she had a boyfriend. I guess she wasn't lying when she told me she couldn't go on any blind dates."
"You tried to set her up on a blind date?"
The room became deathly quietly, except for the soft moaning coming from the bed.
"What's everybody doing in here? I can't be hurt that bad."
"You're not," Michel grinned. "Just a few cuts and bruises- it's nothing that can't heal. You'll be back to normal in no time."
"Good. Urgh- I feel like shi- I mean, like I got sat on by an elephant."
"Do you need anything? I could go get it for you."
"You just want to get away from my family."
"No, I don't they fine. Besides- those two have stopped bickering."
"Your family isn't that bad, Kristy."
Michel glared at Bart Taylor; obviously he could tell who he was. "Stay out of this! Can't we ever have a private conversation?"
"Oh, sorry for ruining your little reunion there. I'll shut up now."
Bart moved away from the bed, looking a bit huffy, as Michel moved toward the bed, sitting in the empty chair.
"So what's up?"
"Nothing much, but I'll be totally free this summer. I've officially quit baby-sitting."
"Kristy, you need to eat something."
"Hi, Patrick. Where's Mom?"
Patrick glanced towards the bed. This was weird, being in the same room as his biological children and there not being some huge argument going on.
"She went to go get some stuff for you. Do you want me to get you something from the cafeteria?"
Kristy thought about it for a second. "No."
"You need to eat. You're way too skinny."
"I'm not eating any junk from a cafeteria that looks like it came from the trash, thank you very much."
Mary Anne looked towards Kristy, looking relieved. "You're already making disgusting food jokes!"
"Mary Anne- stop crying. God," Kristy tried to sit up, but she failed. "You'd think I died or something."
"You did give us quite a scare. You want me to go and get you something from a drive through?"
"No! No, thanks. I'll be fine! Really," Kristy sat up, pushing the covers off of her. "Whose idea was this to stick me in these pajamas? I'll be fine, really."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positively sure."
Patrick looked out the window, as Elizabeth and Watson Brewer walked into the room. The tension was high between Elizabeth and Patrick; you could feel it in the air. Kristy kept rubbing her hands nervously as Elizabeth smiled and stood beside the bed.
"You're up! Here," Elizabeth pulled out a Styrofoam container, and handed to her daughter, "eat all of this, whether you want to or not."
Kristy took a stab at the food quietly. No one was talking, no was moving, just pure and total silence. She picked up the remote control, and turned on the television. She channel surfed until she found a baseball game.
"Wow, Mets versus the Blue Jays."
"Must we? I hate the Mets."
"Well, I hate the Blue Jays, but I still let you drag me to that one game."
"You liked it!"
This sly, cleverly evil grin came across her face.
"You know how great I am at acting," she paused, and started to misleadingly cough- which sounded a lot like "Paris!"
"And I thought you were modest."
"I am, just not when you're just asking for me to act like this."
"YOU asked for it."
"Are we going to have to have you two get lost somewhere again?" Elizabeth crossed her arms, her animated face smiling widely.
"I was not lost!"
"He tricked me!"
Elizabeth rolled her eye, as Zoey, Patrick's newest wife, shook her head.
"That's it. As soon as she's out of here you two are getting lost in New York City."
"Do they always act like that?"
"No, they only do that in public- when one provokes the other. They're a cute couple when they aren't biting each other's heads off. He's really great for her; he keeps her from being too uptight."
"Kristy? Uptight? No," Sam sarcastically spoke. "She's just so loose and wild, and she really needs to be sent to boot camp to get that boisterous behavior under control."
"Shut up, Sam!"
Quite confused as to why everyone was laughing so loudly, Patrick asked, with this dumbfound look on his face, "Why is that so funny?"
"It's not true."
Everyone began giggling in the room, of course, without Patrick. 'No wonder', Kristy thought. 'He thinks I'm right handed.'
"Are you sure you want to watch your team lose?"
"That's what I was going to ask you." Kristy yawned, as she eyed the fake velvet pajamas evilly. "Can I get out of these right now?"
((Thank you, Jaded Rose, for that very nice review.that's my favorite review that I've ever gone. It was exceptional nice- but honest. But anyway.as you can see, I lengthened this, because I like LONG chapters.))
The hospital door slammed, as a young man entered the room. He was upset- no, upset wasn't the word for it. Michel DuMoulin was more devastated, for the girl he was truly in love with was in unconscious due to some asswhole drunk driver. Kristy's biological father came in behind him, and he, too, had slammed the door. Michel became a bit paler after he caught a glimpse of her; she looked even worse than her mother had described her over the phone. The bruises were supposedly huge, and the cuts from the broken glass were seemingly long, rigid lines. He glanced at the heart monitor; her heart rhythm seemed fine. Her hair was down and fairly messy, unlike the neat ponytail she'd normally keep it in. Her pajamas were even unlike her, fuzzy and a deep purple; the shirt that went with it had spaghetti straps. She would never were a spaghetti strap shirt, even if it was in bed. She would never even set foot into the store that the pajamas were bought it. He smiled at this thought, as Mr. Thomas, and Charlie- was it? - were in a heated discussion. He had no clue what it was about, he just kept staring at Kristy, as more people came into the room. The first girl looked a lot like Kristy, only her eyes were blue. That wasn't the only difference; this girl was dressed like she walked out of the Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. Other than that, it was spooky, and alright, the girl made him feel sicker. Seeing this girl was disgracing to Kris's own particular beauty in his opinion, for she was one of the most modest girls he had ever met. He kept staring at the bed, as someone touched his shoulder.
"Michel, are you going to be alright?"
"I won't be okay until my girlfriend is back to normal, or as normal as she is going to be after this, Abby."
Abby Stevenson now stood to the left of him, looking at him inquisitively.
"I think you and Mary Anne need to talk. She's really upset, but she doesn't know about Kristy and you. Kristy was going to tell her and Claud today."
A Japanese girl and some guy Michel had met on the European trip -Michel's mood became ever more so melancholy at this thought- walked toward them.
"Is Kristy getting any better? And what's Patrick doing here?"
"She's still unconscious," Abby shook her head, "but the doctors say she'll be up in no time. I have no clue what Patrick thinks he's doing."
"He's trying to be there for her- for once. It's only right for him to be here because he's her father."
"You call that right? Patrick abandoned Kristy and her brothers."
"She's forgiven him, therefore it is right."
"How do you know so much about her anyway?"
Claudia Kishi's almond shaped eyes flashed, as she wondered why this French- Canadian guy was here.
"Claudia, this is Michel DuMoulin, Kristy's boyfriend. He knows just as much- or more- about Kristy as anyone does in this room."
'Well, then, that's okay,' Claudia thought, 'wait a second! Kristy has a boyfriend?!'
"More- I know more than anyone here does."
"What do you know about her that we don't know?"
"Abby, I know what went on in your hotel the last night we were in Paris. I know what happened when Kristy and I got separated from the group in Paris- and you know she'll never tell anyone about b that /b. I know about the time when you lot were on a road trip and you ran into Mr. Thomas in San Francisco. I know about that Alan Gray stalking her in the seventh grade. I know about her ex-boyfriend, Bart. I know about the time Mr. Thomas was here in Stoneybrook and she had to lie to everyone to see him. I know about that one time where she failed a final."
"Kristy failed a final?"
"Unbelievable, isn't it? It happened though. First semester, French class, chapter five final exam, I think. It was the week I really pissed her off, I believe."
"Which week?"
"The week we broke up in October, and we got back together the next one after she admitted that she was wrong- for once."
"What happened in the hotel room?"
"We kissed for a good five minutes, until Stacey knocked on the door wondering were Kris had gone off to."
"Do you know what happened last time she was in California?"
"Her dad and stepmother got married, he and Charlie got into a major fight, and everybody lived happily ever after."
"Then you do know more than we do," Claudia looked astonished. "I didn't even know that she had a boyfriend. I guess she wasn't lying when she told me she couldn't go on any blind dates."
"You tried to set her up on a blind date?"
The room became deathly quietly, except for the soft moaning coming from the bed.
"What's everybody doing in here? I can't be hurt that bad."
"You're not," Michel grinned. "Just a few cuts and bruises- it's nothing that can't heal. You'll be back to normal in no time."
"Good. Urgh- I feel like shi- I mean, like I got sat on by an elephant."
"Do you need anything? I could go get it for you."
"You just want to get away from my family."
"No, I don't they fine. Besides- those two have stopped bickering."
"Your family isn't that bad, Kristy."
Michel glared at Bart Taylor; obviously he could tell who he was. "Stay out of this! Can't we ever have a private conversation?"
"Oh, sorry for ruining your little reunion there. I'll shut up now."
Bart moved away from the bed, looking a bit huffy, as Michel moved toward the bed, sitting in the empty chair.
"So what's up?"
"Nothing much, but I'll be totally free this summer. I've officially quit baby-sitting."
"Kristy, you need to eat something."
"Hi, Patrick. Where's Mom?"
Patrick glanced towards the bed. This was weird, being in the same room as his biological children and there not being some huge argument going on.
"She went to go get some stuff for you. Do you want me to get you something from the cafeteria?"
Kristy thought about it for a second. "No."
"You need to eat. You're way too skinny."
"I'm not eating any junk from a cafeteria that looks like it came from the trash, thank you very much."
Mary Anne looked towards Kristy, looking relieved. "You're already making disgusting food jokes!"
"Mary Anne- stop crying. God," Kristy tried to sit up, but she failed. "You'd think I died or something."
"You did give us quite a scare. You want me to go and get you something from a drive through?"
"No! No, thanks. I'll be fine! Really," Kristy sat up, pushing the covers off of her. "Whose idea was this to stick me in these pajamas? I'll be fine, really."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positively sure."
Patrick looked out the window, as Elizabeth and Watson Brewer walked into the room. The tension was high between Elizabeth and Patrick; you could feel it in the air. Kristy kept rubbing her hands nervously as Elizabeth smiled and stood beside the bed.
"You're up! Here," Elizabeth pulled out a Styrofoam container, and handed to her daughter, "eat all of this, whether you want to or not."
Kristy took a stab at the food quietly. No one was talking, no was moving, just pure and total silence. She picked up the remote control, and turned on the television. She channel surfed until she found a baseball game.
"Wow, Mets versus the Blue Jays."
"Must we? I hate the Mets."
"Well, I hate the Blue Jays, but I still let you drag me to that one game."
"You liked it!"
This sly, cleverly evil grin came across her face.
"You know how great I am at acting," she paused, and started to misleadingly cough- which sounded a lot like "Paris!"
"And I thought you were modest."
"I am, just not when you're just asking for me to act like this."
"YOU asked for it."
"Are we going to have to have you two get lost somewhere again?" Elizabeth crossed her arms, her animated face smiling widely.
"I was not lost!"
"He tricked me!"
Elizabeth rolled her eye, as Zoey, Patrick's newest wife, shook her head.
"That's it. As soon as she's out of here you two are getting lost in New York City."
"Do they always act like that?"
"No, they only do that in public- when one provokes the other. They're a cute couple when they aren't biting each other's heads off. He's really great for her; he keeps her from being too uptight."
"Kristy? Uptight? No," Sam sarcastically spoke. "She's just so loose and wild, and she really needs to be sent to boot camp to get that boisterous behavior under control."
"Shut up, Sam!"
Quite confused as to why everyone was laughing so loudly, Patrick asked, with this dumbfound look on his face, "Why is that so funny?"
"It's not true."
Everyone began giggling in the room, of course, without Patrick. 'No wonder', Kristy thought. 'He thinks I'm right handed.'
"Are you sure you want to watch your team lose?"
"That's what I was going to ask you." Kristy yawned, as she eyed the fake velvet pajamas evilly. "Can I get out of these right now?"
((Thank you, Jaded Rose, for that very nice review.that's my favorite review that I've ever gone. It was exceptional nice- but honest. But anyway.as you can see, I lengthened this, because I like LONG chapters.))