A/N: Much mahalos and thank yous for all the reviews! It's slowly getting there! I've got more chapters already on the back burner but for now I'm presenting a little at a time. Patience is a virtue... sometimes. LOL Anyway, the character of Price, just to let you know, I've come to actually care about and have come to believe that he's not that big of a jerk. Thus why his character in my story just shows another side to him which I'm hoping will be revealed as the show progresses. At least I hope... eh, there's always fanfiction *grins* Enjoy!
Chapter Three: Not So Misery of a Good Time
Joan stood at the doorway, half frozen half urging herself to say something. She regarded the man on the hospital bed in disbelief. For a mere moment, she didn't see him as the tall intimidating jerk of a Vice Principal she, and nearly majority of the student body, had come to avoid, fear, and loathe. Instead, she was actually seeing this human being, practically laying there in his hospital gown, surprised and defenseless.
It wasn't until he said her name did Joan remember that despite everything else, that man was still Mr. Gavin Price. She blinked her eyes, then gave way to a soft, hesitant smile. Very slowly, she made her way inside as he began sitting up. She watched him try to sit up, resisting the urge to wince right along with him. It was obvious that it was taking a lot of strength on his part to look healthy and not weak with pain in front of his student.
"Hi, Mr. Price." She could feel a pathetic excuse about to escape her lips. It was feeble, but what else could she tell him without coming off too crazy? "I'm sorry that you're in here. Hospitals really suck... unless you're a doctor, in which case you're paid to be in here, but..."
Price gave her a weary grin, "You're on the verge of babbling, Miss Giradi. Just get to the point as to why you're here and then you can leave."
Joan stopped with a start. There he is... the man they all love to hate. You could take the ass from the school, but the man still remained an ass. Resisting the urge to snap at him, Joan instead opted to give him a half glare.
Starting off with a mere scoff of a laugh, "Y'know, I had a feeling that this was a bad idea in the first place. I figured, why not visit Mr. Price because despite everything, even he doesn't deserve to be hospitalized. I guess you could say that I felt somewhat bad for you... I mean, look," She held up the card, which was now in its envelope. "I even bought you a card."
He slowly began regarding her with a look that Joan didn't recognize. Especially as she continued on her little rant. Price softly watched as she glanced around his hospital room, taking in the floral arrangements.
"Not that this puny card would matter though, right? God, what did you do? Decide to grow a garden in here?"
It was then that Joan got the biggest surprise of the day... He started laughing. Mr. Price was actually laughing. And the weirdest thing about it, Joan discovered, was that it wasn't that bad of a laugh. If she didn't consider the ick Vice Principal factor, Joan would've considered it to be kind of... cute.
Despite herself, Joan gave a quiet chuckle and a small smile appeared on her lips.
"I'm afraid," Price began, still laughing, "That this is one of those moments where I'm glad I don't have an allergic bone in my body." He did a once over of the room, and with a smile on his face as he turned to Joan, "It is a bit too much, isn't it?"
"You think?" She replied, still holding the card, but a bit more relaxed than when she first entered his room. Before she realized what she was saying, Joan added, "Y'know, for a man that's not too well-liked at school, these flowers could prove otherwise..."
Joan stopped short, stunned at her words and what they were insinuating. "I mean..."
However, again surprising her, Price held up his hand. "It's okay, Joan. I know that my popularity at school isn't that high up in the charts as say someone like your mother. I'm well aware of how the students view me."
Joan looked down, fully knowing that she was one of those students. Price kept his eyes on her, taking note of her guilty silence. A sympathetic smile appeared on his face as he held his hand out to her, "May I see the card, Joan?"
"Oh!" She looked at the card, then at his hands. Walking closer to him, she handed it over to Price. "Of course, I mean the card is for you anyway." Joan's eyes fell on the floral bouquet on the stand next to his bed. She beamed softly at the flowers, especially as she recognized the name on the small card tucked within them. "These are beautiful. Did Mr. Chadwick pick them out himself or his wife? If he did, he certainly has good taste..."
Price looked up from the card and onto the white lilies. Joan noticed that while he looked at them with a smile, there was something sad about it. Not meeting her gaze, he said, "I have no idea.... the delivery boy wouldn't tell me." He regarded the rest of the flowers as he added, "Just like he wouldn't tell me much when he delivered the rest."
"Oh..." Joan spoke, realizing the meaning behind his words. That while Mr. Price had people that cared about his well-being (for the flowers proved that much), they didn't seem to care enough to bring it to him personally... so what does this visit say about her?
"I'm afraid, Miss Giradi, that you're the first person to actually hand deliver your little gift." He gave her a rueful grin before turning to read her card out loud. An act that Joan slightly winced because she knew that the inscription inside was a rush job. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she got it last minute at the gift shop downstairs, picked out a blank card and scribbled something really generic.
However, the tone in his voice as he read it didn't sound like he was mocking her. There was something else... "Mr. Price, I'm sorry to hear about your accident. It sucks to be in the hospital, but I hope you get better soon. School is honestly different without you. Take care. Joan Giradi."
Before she could let him say anything against what she wrote, "Okay, I know that I'm not some great literary writer, but please keep in mind that it's the thought that counts!"
Price gave a small chuckle, "Relax, Joan. Despite what you may think of me, I'm not going to put you down or make fun of your card."
Joan blinked, "You're not?"
"Do you want me to?" He stared up at her.
Thrown off by his question, "No... Why? Do you want to?"
"Joan, I already said that I'm not going to. Now, take a seat." He indicated to the chair on the opposite side of his bed. Regarding her, "You're making me nervous with you standing there, fidgeting."
"I'm not fidgeting!" She snapped defensively. He raised an "Oh really?" eyebrow at her, which caused Joan to reconsider.
"Okay... fine... but I'm not nervous. Why would I be nervous around you? Besides the fact that on some occasions at school you intimidate the hell out of me and majority of the student body..." As she spoke, Joan started walking towards the chair next to his bed.
"Joan," Price watched her, slightly amused, slightly annoyed. "Is rambling a common trait in your family? Your mother does that a lot. Unfortunately."
This sounded like a new development to Joan. Maybe because she never allowed her mother a single chance to speak whenever they'd have a conversation. "She does?"
Nodding, "Oh yes. Because of her, I've learned to tune out individual voices."
Now it was Joan's turn, despite at her mother's expense, to laugh. Price smiled and soon began laughing himself.
"You might have to teach me how to do that," Joan joked. "It might come in handy."
"So that you could one day use that method against me?" He returned the banter, "I don't think so, Joan."
A silence fell upon them, one that wasn't so awkward, yet wasn't exactly peaceful. Joan wondered if she should now leave, considering that she had accomplished what God probably had intended her to do, or...
"Misery?" Her eyes had fallen on a book that was in his lap. She recognized the author as Stephen King. "That sounds depressing."
Price placed Joan's card on the side, then picked up his book. "I'm guessing you never read this book?"
"I've seen his movies..." Joan made a feeble reply. "What's the book about?"
He took a pause, then gave a half-smile. "Ironically enough, it's about this famous writer that gets himself injured in a car accident. Then he gets rescued and taken care of by this woman named Annie. She's his number one fan..."
"Wait a minute," Joan interrupted, "Stephen King wrote it, right? Let me guess, this Annie woman goes psycho on the writer, thus the name of the book is called Misery?" She gave Price a once-over, "Y'know, in your current state, are you sure you want to be reading that book?" In a hushed voice, "You don't happen to know any nurses over here that were former students of yours that happen to be named Annie... do you?... What?"
He stared at her, dumbfounded. He remained giving her this look of disbelief and awe until he finally began shaking with laughter. And despite the pain, he couldn't stop laughing.
"What?" She asked, suddenly finding herself wanting to laugh along with him. "Did I say something?"
Giving her this whole new look, as if seeing another side to this student that had once been nothing more than the unstable, emotional daughter of Helen Giradi, Price chuckled, "Just when I had you pegged... you had to go and surprise me with the gift of laughter."
She shrugged, "Well, I was told that I had a sense of humor..."
"Whatever it is, Joan..." He smiled at her in a way that was nothing short of amazement, "I really appreciate it." Price glanced back at her card. Looking back up at her, his voice sincere, "Thank you. For the card... and for the visit. I'll probably deny this later on once I get back to school, but I'm enjoying your company."
Joan took his words in, nodding. Not just touched, nor just surprised at them... but also at the fact that she was actually having a good time too. What're the odds? Softly, returning his smile, "You're welcome."
JoA~~JoA~~JoA
