A/N: This is chapter 11. I'm sorry for not updating chapter 10 for a long time, but I was working on the plot summary for the sequel. I need some good story names, people!
Kyra had been living in my house for the past four days. She'll be living here for a while, maybe even a few years. Mrs. Waterton has to wait to go find a job until after Daniel is well enough to go home, or rather to stay at Richie's house. Richie's little brother, Martin, and Daniel had apparently grown friendly in the short time Dan had been visiting.
Kyra as I sat on the edge of her bed, watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on my laptop. We got bored of watching Ty run around with his annoying megaphone, so we shut it off.
"Hey, Arch? I've been thinking, and I was wondering if your mom would let me paint the walls in here. No offence, but they aren't very stylish." She said, gesturing to the off-white walls.
It was true, this room was tragic. There was an oak dresser with a mirror beside the bed, which was a twin and had boring, pale blue and white striped sheets. The closet had round, silver knobs. The window was framed like a school classroom's windows, the kind you just slid up. They had old lady-ish white, silk curtains.
"Yeah, we should talk to her about that. This room is kind of really ugly." I replied, totally agreeing with her.
"It doesn't have to be right now. Maybe in a few months." She shrugged agreeably. I knew Kyra, and she'd have this place totally decked out in about two weeks. "Besides, your mom has enough to worry about."
"Like what?" I asked, not knowing exactly what stuff my mom had to worry about.
"Did you actually forget? Your surgery, you idiot!" She laughed at me, shoving my arm playfully. I had actually completely forgotten about that. Not that I was going to admit that to her.
"Oh, right." I said awkwardly. She relaxed her head on my shoulder and pouted jokingly up at me.
"Is my big, strong man scared of surgery?" She teased me, poking my ribs. I raised my eyebrows at her, as if I was asking if she was done.
"Uh, yeah. One wrong move and I'm paralysed for life. Plus it hurts like a bitch." I retorted, hoping to shut her up.
"Don't worry about it. I'll be there when you wake up. So will Patrice and Evan." She told me, as if that would make the surgery worthwhile.
"I know." I smiled in spite of myself.
~x~
The next morning, we all piled into my mom's car at 6:00am. We were groggy, so mom got Kyra a coffee at Starbucks. I wasn't allowed coffee before surgery, so I just tried to keep my heart from hammering the way it had been.
"Good morning, Archie." Doctor Clarke smiled, as if I should be excited to be here. In reality, I'd rather be anywhere else but.
"Hi. Let's get this over with." I said irritably. Well, you'd be cranky too if you had to wake up at 5:00am to go do something you hate more than anything.
"Alright. Come this way to the operation room." He said. I wanted to respond Oh, yay. The operation room. What fun., but I kept my mouth shut.
Once we had got to the OR, the specialty team, or whatever they call them, poured in. They smiled big, stupid smiles as I went behind that blue thingy and got changed into that ugly hospital robe. They really must've thought I was stupid. I knew right well that once I was under they would strip me down naked, anyways. They would have to. Then they put it back on before they move me to recovery.
My heart was pounding as I hoisted myself onto the operating table. I flopped onto my back, so they could put me out. I watched helplessly as they pushed the oxygen mask thing towards my face. They would put knock-out gas in it, which would numb me and put me to sleep. I hate this part the most. I hate feeling so vulnerable.
The world went cold and blurry as I inhaled my first breath with the mask. Whatever they put in that thing is powerful stuff. I took a second breath, and everything went even more out of focus. I took my third breath, and everything went black. I barely felt the surgeons flip me onto my back, and I was out of it.
~x~
The next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed, not unlike Daniel's. In fact, it was exactly like Daniel's. I was too weak to open my eyes yet, but I was gradually getting my sense of touch back. I felt a warm hand on my forehead, stroking my hair away from my face. I heard even beeping sounds, coming from the machine that was monitoring my heart rate. I smelt antiseptic crap. Gross.
When I finally felt sturdy enough to open my eyes, the lights sent a shock through my system. Everything looked too bright. I blinked a few times, and the heads and faces hovering above me came into focus.
I smiled very faintly at Patrice, Evan and Kyra, who were crowded around me. They were beaming down at me. It had been Patrice's hand that was on my face, and I warily reached up and grabbed it friendlily.
"Hi, guys." I said, my voice sounding hoarse and sand-papery.
"How do you feel, Archie?" Patrice asked slowly, knowing that I was still feeling lethargic. Evan and Kyra were just hugging and smiling. I was really happy Patrice came. I like having her with me when I'm in the hospital. She doesn't make a huge deal out of anything; she just acts like nothing's changed. Not that I don't like having Evan and Kyra here, but Patrice's carefree vibes were just what I needed after surgery.
"Alright. Really sore." I grimaced as I tried to shift positions. She exhaled a laugh. I grinned back at her.
"That sucks." She said, as if we were just talking about a broken arm, or something. I just love Patrice. I call her the brother I never had, which usually earns me a raspberry or a sharp glare.
"Yeah. Hey, Evan. Wanna get off my girlfriend?" I said jokingly, slapping Evan on the mid-back, which was the highest I could reach from my hospital bed.
"Aw, you're no fun." Kyra countered sarcastically, making a kissy face at Evan. He patted her on the head, as if she was a sad little retarded person. He was not wrong.
"It's amazing how you can be such a jerk after such a huge surgery." Evan taunted. I shot him a glare.
"Shut up. I have the right to be miserable." I shot back.
"You're such a dickhead." Kyra smiled cheekily, lightly swatting my arm. I tried to strain a laugh, but an intense pain shot through my ribs. I winced, and everyone's faces went into oh-shit mode.
"Archie? Arch?" Kyra pressed her hand up against my forehead, smoothing my hair off my forehead. I wanted to swat her hand away, but I couldn't move my arm without it feeling like it would fall off.
"I'm… fine." I panted, the numbness in my body fading, and the real pain setting in. It didn't hurt this bad last time, but this surgery was more major, so I guess this is normal.
"What does it hurt like?" Patrice asked urgently. She knew just about everything about muscular dystrophy, probably more than I did. Google is a great thing.
"Pins and needles." Yeah, more like knives and daggers.
"Okay, just let me know if it gets any worse, and I'll call the doctors." She told me, as if the stupid doctor was my life line, or something. Well, he kind of was, but its not like doctors make all the worlds worries go away.
"Thanks, but I'll be fine." I reassured her. She gave me a we'll-see face, and I rolled my eyes. One of the too-smiley nurses appeared from behind the curtain.
"Hi, Archie. We've got you set for discharge tomorrow. Now, we can either send you home by ambulance, or your mom can just drive you home. The ambulance would be much more comfortable, but if you don't want to cause a scene…" The nurse said, acting like she was checking this stuff on their clipboard.
"I don't care. I guess I'll go with my mom." I would've shrugged, but my body ached too much to move.
"Alright, if you're sure." The nurse shrugged and pulled a face. I smiled a too-sweet smile, and she strutted off.
"Okay, Archie. We're going to get out of here. We'll be here tomorrow when you get out." Patrice grinned at me, and I returned it. I remember when we were in grade 5, and I had the hugest crush on Patrice. She was really pretty, but it was pretty clear she didn't like me like that, so I let it drop. It's funny how alike we are- we like the same movies, bands, books- we even have the same sense of humour. It was always a mystery to me why she and I didn't end up together. I guess it doesn't matter, since she has Evan and I have Kyra. No offence to Patrice, but I like Kyra more than I ever liked Patrice, in a more-than-friends way.
"Okay. See you guys later." I said, not really wanting them to leave. Kyra kissed me on the mouth but it was too short. It was like the kind of kiss parents do. The taste of her watermelon lip chap lingered on my lips.
~x~
The next morning, I felt a bit better, so they let me go home. A pair of nurses helped me into a wheelchair, which I'll have to be pushed around in for the next month or so. It sucks, plus I'll have it for my 14th birthday.
"Ready, Arch?" Mom asked as she got ready to lift me into the car. I groaned in response, letting my head roll back against my wheelchair. The pain in my body was unbearable, and all I wanted to do was go home, take a few million Tylenols and die.
"3, 2, 1." Mom said, lifting me into the car. I almost screamed, it hurt so badly. This was a million times worse than the first surgery.
"Owowowowow!" I said quickly, sucking breath through my teeth. I heard Patrice and Kyra wince beside me, who had otherwise kept quiet all day.
"Okay, okay. You're okay." Mom whispered reassuringly. I took a deep breath, and she put me down onto my seat. I released the breath, and let my body collapse into the seat. Patrice, who was just to my left, gave me a reassuring smile and lightly rubbed my arm. Kyra, who was on the other side of Patrice, grabbed my knee and blew a kiss. On any other day, this would've been very comforting, but today it was just another shock through my nervous system.
"Drive slow." I told my mom. She smiled, almost sadly, and nodded. I just wanted to go home.
A/N: Okay, this is the longest chapter now. And I still need name suggestions. Seriously, if you want a sequel, I need you to recommend a name for the story. It has to be a quote from 13 that makes sense, i.e. it can't be something stupid like "Down the Road there's a Dairy Queen". R&R!