Chapter 8: The Craziest Way To Act
By: Cimmy
(Un) Important babbling-notes from Cimmy: Yeah, eh, don't panic, Guy isn't dying. I think that was what most
of the reviews regarded, and I'm not online, so I can't write my usual
pointless shout-outs, aww, but thanks for the reviews everyone!
Chelsea, your review was nominated for the most classic review ever, until
you reviewed It's Summer In My Heart.
Luckily, I'm not normal, so you didn't scare me...
While being almost close to the subject; It's Summer In My Heart has been updated, but the rating is changed to R. That's why it doesn't show when we've updated. Also, Kristine is my boss, and she told me to write this. I keep forgetting it, so I'm just trying to avoid driving her insane. Eh, but I sort of broke her OC's, so I might be too late.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Connie threw her hands up against the glass window, looking at the hospitalized Guy. She could hear his mother cry, but she couldn't cry herself. Mostly because the thought of him dying was so absurd, when he was standing right next to her at the same time.
"Could you move?" she begged, without facing the other Guy.
Charlie, standing on her left side, didn't seem to appreciate that request. "Connie, it's going to be okay."
"Not you," she whispered, biting her lip to keep from yelling at the annoying Guy on her right side. "You can stay."
She let out a sigh of relief when she heard how the heart monitor began to beep in regular intervals again. Charlie took a deep breath too, before turning to Connie. "Why are you acting so weird? Who are you talking to? Guy's dying and you don't seem to care at all!"
"Guy's not dying!" Connie exclaimed. "He's right over there!" She pointed at the sort-of-alive Guy over by the glass window, but everybody else seemed to think she was pointing to the person who was inside the room. Connie didn't really want to correct them, so she just went with it.
"Yeah, he is," Charlie said. "You're right. But could you act a bit more normal, please? I know at least I am suffering from some sort of heart attack right now, so be less hyper."
Connie looked up. Hyper? No, she was not hyper. If anyone was hyper, it was the maniac over by the window. Guy was bouncing with excitement, while looking at Ken and waving his arms around. Why was he trying to talk to Ken when he clearly couldn't make himself noticed? Connie shook her head. The thought was too disturbing.
"Now you're smirking again!" Charlie shrieked, loud enough to make everyone in the hallway turn around and stare. "Get a grip! Guy's dying!"
Filled with rage because of Charlie's statement, no matter how ridiculous the thought might've been, Connie shoved him out of her way while quickly walking towards the door. "You can all stay here and believe what you want, but I'm not going to listen to this crap any longer. C'mon Guy, let's go."
"Excuse me? Guy?" Fulton asked, looking puzzled.
They were all staring at her, questioning her with their eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I'm leaving; I'm not staying here to listen to this idiotic rant."
"Shouldn't we go after her?" Adam asked, watching the door close behind Connie.
"She's obviously losing her mind," Goldberg answered. "Maybe we should call a therapist or something?"
"No, she's just upset. People do crazy things when they're hysteric," Portman said, rolling his eyes. "And aren't we supposed to be here, supporting Guy?"
"You're only saying that because you're too lazy to go after her," Julie muttered.
"Damn right."
While the Ducks kept pondering about what to do, Connie was already out on the parking lot. Guy followed her from a distance, afraid that she might slap him around now when he wasn't untouchable anymore.
"I can't believe those guys! How are they to tell me that Guy's dying, huh?" Connie exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air.
"Is that a trick question? I'm not really supposed to answer, am I?"
"Do whatever you please; I'm getting out of here." Connie got into her car again. "Are you coming, or are you going to stand there, looking like a fool?"
"Are those my only options?" Guy whimpered. "You're not going to drive recklessly, are you? Because I think I've had enough car accidents, at least for this week."
"Get in, or stay, I don't care."
Guy wrinkled his nose. Then he skipped around on the spot, waiting for Connie to ask him again. When she didn't, and started to drive off, he quickly hurried to get in the car. "Happy?"
"When you shut up, I'll be happy," Connie growled. "Where do you wanna go?"
"Oh, so I get to choose?" Guy cheered. "Cool. Uhm, Las Vegas?"
"How 'bout McDonald's?"
"Fine."
For the first time that day, Guy was quiet for longer than two seconds. Connie tried to think of how to explain to the Ducks why she acted like she did, and also convince them that she was in fact sane. Guy didn't think much at all, he was mostly just hoping that she wouldn't drive off the road.
"So, how does it feel to be dead?" Connie asked after a while.
"I'm not really dead yet, you know."
"Yeah, but if you die, will it feel like this?"
"Probably not."
Connie chewed on her lower lip. "Are you going to heaven?"
"I was planning on it. Why, you want my address so you can write me letters?"
"Your jokes aren't funny."
"It wasn't a joke."
"Duh."
When she looked out over the road, Connie realized that it was starting to get darker. A whole day had passed. "Maybe we should go back?" she suggested, mostly talking to herself.
"Can I have a last wish?"
"You're not dying."
"Please?"
Connie sighed forcefully. "Fine. What is it?"
"Can I ask you out for a date?"
"You're deluded. What good will that do?"
"Thanks, I'm not deluded; I just want to go out with you one last time before... I mean, it would mean a lot to me."
"Will you stop bouncing around and behave properly?"
"You sound like my mother."
"Guy! Will you?"
"Yes, I promise to God."
Connie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you better stay on good terms with God, if you're planning on getting into heaven. Let's go, then."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*