Yaaay! Chapter three is finally finished! Hoorah! But before we get to the good stuff, let's have some SHOUT-OUTS!
Blaze ~ Believe it or not, Skitts is actually straight in this one. *giggle* Hard to believe, innit?
BitterSweet ~ Here's what happens next! Now sit all the way on your chair or else you'll fall out.
Stage ~ Damn straight he is! And yay, the muse did stay with me, although he left for a while, but now he's back.
Stiletto ~ Yeah, I do need to e-mail you . . . still. *sweatdrop*
Sphinx ~ I saw that shirt at a store and I was like "OH MY GOD! SPECS!" And yes, the EMT was Dutchy. And there are a ton of Slashy Lady inserts in this chapter, YAY!
Kim ~ Doesn't it fit him?
Vinyl ~ I know the CPRing too! Ain't it fun? Glad you like it—here's some more slashy goodness! *is glomped*
Kat ~ Your review made me laugh so hard. ^___^ And yay, here's more! Okay, so it's not exactly soon, but whatever.
Khavi ~ YAAY! Swifty liiiives! He liiives! ^___^ *reaches and puts on "King of New York"*
Neffie ~ Does it say something that I saw the book and immediately thought of her? *grin* And WOO! Shirtless Skitts!
Sinhe ~ Swifty's okay! Calm down, dear! I love Specs' shirt too. Doesn't it suit him so well?
Let's go on with the show!
Deep Water
Part the Third
Twelve White Roses
The next day at work, Snoddy was sitting on the counter, trying to concentrate on the book lying open in his lap. For some reason, though, the capers of ancient Thebes kept being crowded out by a slender Asian boy with baggy trunks and a confident stride.
"Ugh!" he said finally, tossing the book down on the counter. "So he married his mother! Who cares? Was it necessary to write a play about it?"
"Ah, the wonders of AP English," Neffie said, grinning over at Snoddy. She looked down at Vinyl, whose hair she was French braiding, and said, "Fork over the hair tie."
"Are you okay, Snoddy?" Sphinx asked curiously, tucking some blonde hair behind her ear. "You really liked that book yesterday."
"I bet he's still thinking about that boy from yesterday," Kat said teasingly. She grinned at Snoddy. "So? Is that the deal?"
"Um," said Snoddy in an amazing and clever tactical maneuver. "No. This play just sucks."
"Oh, he is!" said Ann, clapping her hands with delight. "That's so cute!"
"Sphinx, grab the red notebook," Neffie said, holding out her hand. Sphinx ducked down, grabbed it, and tossed it to the manager. Neffie caught it deftly and began paging through it.
"Let's see here . . . yesterday. Ah, here we are. His name's Simon Li, he's sixteen, lives over on Ash Street." She frowned. "Too bad they don't have a blank for sexual orientation on here; I could tell you whether you had a chance with him."
Snoddy went red and smacked Neffie's shoulder with his book. "Death!" he said.
Neffie waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, that's what all my dates say."
Swifty's eyes opened. He blinked up at the nondescript white ceiling, dazed. He didn't know quite where he was, but he was pretty sure it wasn't his room. His room did not smell like disinfectant and coffee. He hated coffee.
"What's going on?" Swifty asked groggily.
"Ah, Mr. Li, so glad you could join us today," a voice said. Swifty looked over, blinked. A woman in her late twenties stood by his bed, holding a clipboard to her chest. "I'm Dr. Ingles, Mr. Li. I'm afraid you messed your shoulder up rather badly. You won't be doing any more two-and-a-halves for a while."
Swifty stared at her. Then, very slowly and carefully, he said, "What happened to me?"
"Let me help you sit up first," Dr. Ingles said. She leaned down and hit a button on the side of his bed. With a whirring, the bed creaked into an upright position.
"Now, Mr. Li," she continued, "I would recommend getting
used to writing with your left hand."
"What? Why?" Swifty cried, jerking forward.
Blinding pain shot through his shoulder and he fell back, eyes shut
tightly against the pain, breath escaping in sharp, sobbing gasps from between
his clenched teeth.
Dr. Ingles waited while he recovered, then continued, "You dislocated your shoulder and gave yourself a good whack on the head. We've put your shoulder back in place and it will heal. Also, Mr. Li, you seem to be possessed of a remarkably thick skull, so luckily you don't have any brain damage."
"Why will I have to write with my left hand?" Swifty asked, not so sure he wanted the answer.
"Because, Mr. Li, you will have that bandage on for--" Dr. Ingles paused, almost, it seemed to Swifty, dramatically, "—eight weeks."
Snoddy took a deep breath and shifted the vase to his other hand. He'd stopped by the flower shop on his way from work and picked up a bouquet of white roses.
/And if he ends up not being gay, then, after I curse my existence, I say they're from the girls,/ he decided.
He stepped up to the front counter. "Hi," he said to the receptionist. "I'm looking for Simon Li."
"What d'you want with Swifty?" asked a voice from behind him. Snoddy turned and saw a guy with spiky brown hair, hard brown eyes, and a frown creasing his face. Clinging to his hand was a little boy with short, soft-looking hair and huge blue eyes. The little boy smiled up at Snoddy and said to his brother,
"I know him! He's a lifeguard guy at the pool."
Snoddy smiled. "That's right. I was actually the lifeguard who saved Simon, and I wanted to see how he was doing."
The guy stuck out his free hand. "Mike Hasczak."
"James Thatcher," Snoddy replied, shaking the guy's hand with the non-flower-holding one.
"C'mon, I'll take you up to Swifty's room."
"I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm BORED! This SUCKS!" Swifty yelled, causing a passing nurse to glare at him and shush him irritably.
"Mikey, what does 'sucks' mean?" asked a little voice out in the hallway.
"I'll tell you when you're older."
Skittery and Jeff came in.
"Oh, yeah, soo glad you can come visit me now—"
. . . followed by someone who made Swifty stop mid-bitch and stare.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with short fawn-colored hair, cobalt blue eyes, and long legs. A black tank top and khaki shorts showed off his deep tan and well-formed muscles. A hesitant yet gorgeous smile revealed white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek. One arm cradled a vase with twelve white roses in it.
"Hi," the unbelievable babe said shyly. "I'm James. Um, I saved you yesterday."
Swifty's brain barely processed what he was saying. One thought kept running through his head—
My guardian angel is so hot.
It wasn't until he saw Skittery hitting himself in the forehead and the babe's stunned expression that he realized he'd said it out loud.
~end part three~