"Please, Curly, I am begging you!"
He just stood there, his arms crossed and a sneer on his face, as he replied, "Angela, I'm gonna tell Tim."
"Why? Why does Tim have to know?"
"Because you told him you would do something, and you completely blew him off so you could go to a party. So, because of your stupidity, Ma's gonna fucking die."
Another explosion of tears overpowered Angela as she leaned onto Curly's chest. "I know, I'm such an idiot! I don't know what to do … I can't believe I let this happen. This is all my fault."
Her brother awkwardly slid an arm around her. "Hey, now, it ain't all your fault. I should'a been home too, I guess."
"But it is my fault! I'm such a bitch to Tim all the time. I don't mean to be, it just comes out! I wish he was here …"
"Me too, Angel. Listen, though, you gotta calm down. Here." He placed a cigarette in her mouth. "Just chill. Okay?"
She nodded and rubbed the tears off her face. "Do you think she'll be all right?"
"I dunno."
Curly lit the cigarette for his sister, and then he followed a nurse to show him where the bathroom was. Angela sat in the waiting room, feeling shivers run down her back. She hated hospitals. She hated them. There were only a few times she had ever stepped foot into the building - when she was born, when Curly broke his arm, and when Tim's old friend was caught in a fire or something.
She smirked. Dallas … Winston?
"Ms. Shepard?"
Angela snapped out of her thoughts and shot up. "Yeah?"
The man in front of her smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Doctor Martin. I could tell you're Leah's daughter - you're the spitting image of her."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and decided to not acknowledge his hand in front of her.
He cleared his throat and looked at his clipboard. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions, Ms. Shepard. Your mother is not doing very well. You need to be sure to answer these truthfully, okay, sunshine?"
"Don't call me that."
"Okay …" He glimpsed over the clipboard again. "How often does your mother consume alcohol?"
"Consume alcohol?" She felt like laughing. "Ya mean how much does she get drunk? I don't know, not every day. She ain't that lucky."
The doctor raised his eyebrows and wrote something down. "Does she have a history of violence?"
"No, sir. She just lays in bed all the time."
"All the time?"
Angela nodded.
"Mmhmm. How often does your mother eat?"
"Tim usually cooks her lunch and supper. I try, but I'm an awfully lousy cook."
He let out a low sigh and dropped his pen into his breast pocket. "Thank you, Ms. Shepard, you've been very helpful."
"Well, what's gonna happen?" Curly suddenly snapped, quickly making his way from the hallway to the waiting room.
"And you are?"
"Curly! Leah Shepard's son. Where is she? Can we see her?"
"Unfortunately, she is not in proper condition. We need to run some tests to see if she is able to go back home or not. And, Curly, is your father anywhere around?"
"I don't know."
"No," Angela answered, "He ain't."
Doctor Martin shook his head and made his way back to his office. That was when Curly smacked Angela upside the head.
"Hey!"
"You listen to me, Angela, and you listen good. Doctors don't do nothin' but shit for people like us. If hospital people ever ask you a question, you don't gotta answer 'em."
"He asked me a few things. He don't seem too hurtful."
Her brother slapped his forehead. "Oh no. What did you tell him?"
"He wanted to know how often Ma drinks and how much she eats."
"You stupid bimbo …"
"Excuse me?"
"Don'tcha see!" Curly shouted, rubbing his eyes. "They're gonna take Ma away. They're gonna say she's a bad mother and take us to orphan houses or some shit."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You just wait."
XxX
Of course, the only thing on Linda's mind that Monday was finding out why Angela's mother was in the hospital. Angela simply laughed it off and explained it was stupid, her mother just wanted to get her knees checked up on.
Maybe the Shepards were the most stable people around, but no one had to know that.
The only thing the doctor did was give her more pills. He didn't send her away like Curly said, but he wouldn't even tell them what happened to their mother. Instead, he shooed them away and insisted she would feel better in the morning.
The only good that came from the situation was that Curly decided to keep his mouth shut and didn't say a word to Tim.
Linda plopped down onto the booth seat and opened the menu. "I cannot wait till I'm twenty-one. This town is so boring."
"What would be so great about bein' old?"
"Angel! Twenty-one is not old. We'll be legally able to drink, and we'll be in college."
The dark-haired girl snorted. "Yeah. Suit yourself."
"You ain't gonna go to college?"
"Hell no."
"Can I get ya girls anything yet?"
If there was a woman's voice Angela knew, it was that one. She turned around to face the waitress, and - of course - it was Sylvia Stewart.
Sylvia was … well, she was one of a kind. She had dated Tim for nearly four years before breaking his heart by leaving him for his best friend Dallas. Sure, she was nice to look at; she had long, gorgeous blond locks, and she was almost as tall as Tim. She could have been a model, although Syl would never believe it. Instead, she dropped out of school when Dallas died and apparently became a waitress.
She wasn't satan, but she ruined Tim. That made her just as bad.
"Oh, hey, Sylvia," Angela greeted friendly, feeling a devilish grin on her face. "I didn't know you had any clothes that covered your legs."
Sylvia sneered. "Very funny, Angel. Chocolate milkshake?"
"Please."
"I'll have the same," Linda added, passing the menu to the blond beauty.
She gave one last sassy look to Angela before going behind the counter.
"I can't believe the dance is this Friday!"
"Oh, shit." Angela sighed. "I completely forgot about it. Who's takin' you?"
"Donnie. He asked me at Mike's party. He said he never realized how much he missed me until he saw me on Friday. Isn't that romantic?"
"That ain't romance. That just means he enjoyed the time you spent in Mike's bedroom."
Linda shrugged. "Whatever gets me a date for the dance. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Who's takin' you?"
"Who do ya think? Curtis is gonna take me. I give it till Thursday, and by then, I guarantee he'll ask me. Just wait."
XxX
He didn't ask her.
And her back up plan didn't go as expected either.
Angela Shepard went to the dance with Adam Miller. Boy, was that ever a mistake.
First of all, Bryon had a date. And not just any date, but a girl with long, straight, dark hair, and a smile that knocked out every guy on the dance floor. Angela wasn't too worried about whatever-her-name-was - Bryon could never keep one girl for more than two weeks.
Secondly, Curtis didn't even look at her. He must have had his head in the gutter, because she tried to talk to the moron all night.
And then …
Things got out of hand.
She heard the cops were there just as she noticed Adam was missing. Not being one to keep away from other people's business, she stormed outside to see what was causing the co-motion. Sure enough, there was Adam, sitting on the curb in the parking lot with handcuffs on. A short distance away was Mark, Bryon's best friend, was laying on the ground with blood everywhere. Bryon and Curtis were standing over him.
"You dumb fuck!" she snapped at Adam. "What did you do?"
"I'm sorry, Angela."
"What the hell happened?"
He shrugged. "I was just trying to get Curtis to stop ignoring you. And then he -"
"Cut the horse shit, Miller. My one time I let you take me out, you manage to fuck it up. I ain't never had a date this lousy."
That was when Bryon gave Angela one of the dirtiest looks she had ever seen him wear.
She knew that, somehow, he would blame all of this on her. And, even worse, her future husband just happened to be at the police station when she was forced to go in for questioning.