Loving A Gangsta

Chapter 31 (Friday)

Korrine's POV

I've always hated hospitals. I hate the smell, the boring white walls, the sick people, the overly cheerful or ridiculously bitter nurse, the lying doctors, the shots, the exams, and most of all, I hate the stitches.

I knew it was going to be the worst situation I had ever experienced when I heard the doctor say the word at age twelve. My dad was teaching me how to do a front limber and then a back handspring on a balance beam. He showed me step by step, and I was learning pretty quickly. Then I started getting cocky, thinking I could do it on my own, and I did the first time. I think it was just luck because the second time, I fell and busted the middle of my head open. I had to get twelve stitches. That bald spot didn't grow back for weeks.

Right now feels like deja vu, and it doesn't hurt any less than it did all those years ago, so I'm most definitely not in the mood to keep sitting in this hospital and deal with doctors. "Can I go get a soda now?" I ask the nurse.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but you can't leave your room unless you're going the bathroom."

I smack my lips. "Can I go to the bathroom then?"

She rolls her eyes on the sly, but nods, and it doesn't even take me two seconds to jump off the bed and make my way out to the hallway, closing the door behind me. Standing across my room is Anthony, Xavier, Michael, and some others. They all look at me suspiciously, probably wondering where I'm trying to escape to.

"Relax. I'm just going to the bathroom," I say, folding my arms across my chest.

"Is your head okay?" Mike asks. We still haven't talked since I've been here. I just can't talk to him right now after what he forced me to go through. Obviously he was wrong about what he thought was going to happen, and he deserves to feel guilty about it.

"Maybe it would be if I didn't have to just get fifteen stitches, but thanks for asking," I sneer sarcastically, avoiding his eye contact. "How is Trey?"

Xavier's body stiffens immediately. "We don't know. They won't let us see him or talk to him. Said they waiting for his folks to get here before they release any information," he says.

I start to say something, but I stop when I hear the door open. "You have ten minutes before we have to check your vitals again," the nurse says.

"I'll be back."

After making it the bathroom, I nearly jump when I see myself in the mirror. It looks like I've been getting abused for months, and I hardly even recognize myself. I tuck my hair behind my ears and run the water, splashing some against face. My eye and bottom lip starts to sting a little, but I'll live.

The water didn't too much help, but there's not much that I can do right now, so I dry my hands and head to where I really wanted to go from jump. The vending machine. My throat feels just as dry as it did when they were holding me hostage, and the memory sends chills down my spine.

There are a gang of people in the waiting room, but there a gang of people in the hospital tonight period. It's real noisy and crowded as everyone's trying to fill out paperwork and get whoever they came here with into a room, which is good because none of the attention is on me and my beat up face. Finally getting to the machine, I reach down and press the button for a Dr. Pepper.

"You need a dollar, ma?" a voice from behind me says.

I slowly turn around and freeze up when I realize it's him. Happiness just overflows my body, and I forget about everything. I forget about our fight Wednesday and all the bad that's happened since we've started talking because the good and the way I start to feel when I see him always outweighs the bad.