Straight Boys

I'm Straight

Andrew's POV

The week had certainly been not-a-thing short of a tempestuous case of nothingness.

On Monday, without the inevitably odd situation with Mandy Hartfield and Zachary Rogers, it was only something I could describe as being boring. Although the rumors of Olivia Benson and Mandy Grace trying to hijack Corbett's actual date to the prom, who was, funnily enough, Allison Carson - they could not get along to end world hunger - were sadly shot down. With nothing but Gretchen Yondi to go off, who could blame anyone? She was a gossip hungry woman with no shred of decency.

If you know what I mean.

Although, who's to even say those two girls could even do a thing to Corbett. He was suspended for a week, which meant Friday too, so he wasn't going to homecoming. But if he really wanted to go, then who's to stop him? He always got what he wanted because of his manipulating ways.

Downright disgusting.

On Tuesday, I had finally decided that enough was enough and I needed to go back to the hospital to see Lola and mom. Although, yes it had only been a day, but could you blame me? The doctors had told me that at least Lola was on the cusp of healing; which meant waking up.

That's what I wanted to witness on Wednesday, but that didn't happen.

All I was left with was the site of my mother's feeding tube being replaced and a toilet bowl's edge. It was a hazardous siting to witness, leading me to hurl half of last week's lunch. Not only was I not a big medical person, but just the... the bone shattering idea that my mother needed a feeding tube because every organ in her own body was basically useless, every function she could perform out of the question, was enough to curdle even my blood.

My mother was a pile of human parts, an arm here, leg still bent up oddly, head a colossal mess, but nothing to show for anything worth an ounce of happiness. Honestly, even the doctors were losing hope.

It's only been about a week, maybe a little more. Probably a little more. Time was construing into a nonsensical plight, and I couldn't gather everything into an even slightly tidy situation to wrap my head around things. But, to sum it up, the doctors thought they'd done all they could for now and would monitor her to see if any sign of just a tiny bit of something would lean towards her getting better.

And so then ensued the never ending 'what if's' and 'It's useless' thoughts licking at my brain at a rapid rate; faster than before.

Ridiculously confusing, however, was the fact that, even during the mess my life was ever becoming, the one thing keeping me even slightly sane was Zachary Rogers. He was the one constant in my life at this point, and that was only slightly, just slightly crazy.

Okay, no it was insanely INSANE!

Before all this, I would never have guessed that piece of shit person would become remotely close to me... but somehow that bastard wiggled his little ass into my life; and I was alright with that. He was starting to become a good friend, evin if it's barely been a few weeks or so.

He, with his weird comforting techniques, were helping me with my terrible situation. Which, may I add, was how I got through the rest of Wednesday night after hearing the stupid doctors final desicion for my mother.

I was sat just outside the hospital on the steps, knees tense against my chest and hands limp on either side of me. It was still warm, with a slight breeze blowing through the streets. The sound of few cars passing by and couples idly chatting as they skipped passed without a care in the world did not ease the tension surrounding me. Nothing could ease me, not even the soft smell of coffee from the cafe across the street could calm my palpatating chest.