.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 15. Lonely Cupcake.

.Natalia.

The worst day of my life was the day that I realized that everything that my mother ever promised to me, was not remotely true. She'd moved out of our house one day, married some guy and relocated to Bakersfield; promising with a lot of cute words and assurances that we were going to see each other all the time, but that never really happened.

The second worst day of my life was today.

Harry left the hospital today, and I've missed the last chances of looking at him, by being in this god-awful stiff and lonely bed.
I should have known.
I should have been prepared for it.
That entire night talk with him seemed too good to be true, and now I knew he'd already left the building, it was evident with the clear commotion of people asking for pictures and the fact that Harry totally made it a day that they were not going to forget for a while, when he ordered a million cupcakes to be delivered, and everyone was clearly talking about it.

I was pitying myself, even though I felt completely delighted for him, because he deserved to go home, wherever that was. I was sulking with misery, the thought that our last conversation didn't even included a goodbye was already breaking my heart.
I tried to avoid any cheerful signs of the world outside, and I even faked to be asleep while Brett tiptoed into my room to place a single pink and creamy cupcake and a big bouquet of yellow flowers in the small nightstand by the bed.

Now I was staring at them as if they were an offending sight.
The small fondant flower on top made fun of me as I wanted nothing but throw it away in the trash can.

You never think that things can get worse, but everything went downhill from the moment that cupcake appeared in my life...

***

"Natalia, I need to talk to you about something." Dr. Martin was clutching her hands together, looking for my eyes and clipping my sight to her, a sign that she wanted my whole attention. I nodded with my head, clearly stating that I was aware of the importance of the conversation. "After some deliberation of the department, regarding your psychological evaluation, and the fact that you're going to need physical therapy for your fractured hand, we've come up with the decision that you should take this semester off..."

My body jumped in disagreement, my mind a swirl of different intense thoughts at the reality of this aftermath. It all sounded more like a command than a request, but I found myself responding anyway. "What do you mean off? No... No ... I'm fine!"

She waited for me to guard some silence, then she kept going. "You're not fine... you're being now addressed to a LAPD department case involving a series of attacks, and you need to take care of you first, school is not a priority in your life right now, but your safety is."

My heart started beating fast. "Isabel, Isabel listen to me, I know you are my teacher, but you're also my friend... you can't take this away from me, this is my life."

"Your life precisely Nat, that's what I'm worried about."

"I refuse to do it... and it's only my hand... I can still manage things..."

"Your right hand, and no honey, listen to me, you're only losing a couple of months, the board agreed to guard your scholarship and everything just as it is right now... I need you to get well, stand on your feet and healthy, before going through..."

"No, you don't understand!"

"I'm talking to you too, as a friend." She insisted and pressed, my eyes blurry from the tears that refused to fall, just as I refused to let this go. "I'm sure it doesn't seem possible right now, but you'll get through this, sweetie. I know you will."