Chapter 17: The Hospital

A/N: This probably echoes the part in Amnesia where Gordo comes to the hospital to see Lizzie, because I really can't do different hospital scenes.

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Lizzie's POV

I ran to the other side of the stage, still with tear-stained cheeks, and tried to find Mr. Dig through the crowds of people. I had to tell him to put Kate in for me. I found him, chatting with Veruca in a little corner.

"Mr. Dig, I'm dropping out." I whispered to him as quickly as possible. Before he had a chance to respond, I was on my way to my parents, who were sitting in the front row.

"Mom, Dad!" I exclaimed.

My mother gasped. "Lizzie! You've been crying! What's wrong sweetheart?" She said, embracing me into a huge hug in front of the whole audience.

"Gordo's in a coma." I said, squeezing in my tears.

Her jaw dropped open. "What?"

"In Hillridge hospital. Let's go." I said, already dashing out the door, my dress sweeping the floor.

***

My dad parked the car in the parking lot and motioned for us to get out.

Gordo. Of all people, why did Gordo have to be here? He was so amazing... and he was the only guy who truly cared about me. How could I have chosen Ethan over him? Ethan was just a rude excuse for a cute face. But Gordo... he was much deeper than that. He had a brain, he had feelings.

If he were to survive, I'd never take him for granted ever again. Never. I'd be with him every moment of my life, making sure that he never would end up in the hospital again.

Comas were not very good things. People DIED from comas.

Gordo wasn't going to die, was he?

I pictured Gordo's curly head lying in a deserted bed as I crossed the parking lot. It hurt to see him like that. I wanted him with me right now, telling me everything would be okay. He was strong but sensitive. Confident but sometimes unsure. That was Gordo, alright.

How could I have called him gross, disgusting, and creepy? Kissing him would be a wonder... if only he were conscious. I thought about what he had said several weeks ago.

* You're great, Lizzie. You smart, and pretty, and... everything a guy could want. How could I hate you?*

I grinned through my tears at the thought. He had called me pretty. No one *ever* called me that. He really was the sweetest, most marvelous person on the face of the earth, and I didn't even know it. I didn't realize how lucky I was to even have him speak to me. Any girl would die for a guy like him... and I had chosen Ethan.

We entered the hospital, and I shuddered. Hospitals always had creeped me out. They were cold, white, and scary. To be a patient there would be utter torture.

The lady at the counter smiled at me when she saw me in the dress. "Hello." She said in a friendly and cheerful tone, as if people weren't dying every second.

"Gordon... David Gordon." I choked out, closing my eyes so the tears wouldn't spill. The woman gave a number to my parents, and we headed to the elevator.

It seemed like ages ago when Gordo and I were at dress rehearsal, about to practice our kiss. Was it really just yesterday? Was it just yesterday when I thought that Ethan was the most wonderful thing on the planet?

Was it just yesterday Gordo had been alive and healthy?

I sniffed loudly as the elevator opened. I stepped inside silently and pressed 12.

I'd known this boy since birth, and did I ever, even once, think about how lucky I was to have him care about me? I thought he'd be there forever. I took him for granted. I never thought about helping him, just how he would help me. He would've sacrificed his whole world for me, and I wouldn't even given a moment to show my appreciation toward him.

On my birthday, he'd always get me a huge present, and come over bright and early to make sure he was the first one to wish me happy birthday. He'd always throw a surprise party, even though it wasn't much of a surprise anymore. And on his birthday? I'd give him the first thing that looked cool and was under $10. I'd say happy birthday only if he reminded me it was his birthday.

How come I underappreciated him so much?

The ride up was silent. Not even Matt stirred. It was so creepy, like one of those sad movies where someone dies.

It seemed like hours for the elevator to reach level twelve. But when it did, I got out, and looked for his room. 1287. My eyes scanned everywhere for it, and I ran down hallways like a runaway criminal, trying to find it.

And then I saw it.

I closed my eyes. This was it. I froze outside the door, peering in. I didn't want to go in. It would hurt too much.

"Go, honey." My father urged.

I took a deep breath and stepped in.