Just Wait » Boyf Riends

Der Browser Aktualisiert Und Google Translate Ist Wieder Da

It truly was sick.

Delaying the inevitable is a sick thing.

Yet you can't help but do it. Standing there knowing full well what's waiting for you behind that hospital door was a useless action in hindsight, but then again, so are most of the things I do, so at the time it seemed completely rational.

  It was an irrational thought, to think that Jeremy somehow assumed room temperate, that he didn't make it, that now he's somewhere beyond the veil, yet it enveloped my thoughts and didn't allow my brain any time to apply any real logic to the situation.

Rich was right beside me, doing the same exact thing. I guess he was waiting for me to open the door, which deep down both of us knew I was totally incapable at accomplishing at that moment.

  After a few seconds of standing completely still, Rich speaks up, "Okay, be honest. If we go in there and we find out he's dead, what do we do?"

  "Wh—Rich!"

  "What?"

  "You can't just... just say that!"

  "Oh, what do you want me to say, Michael?" he rolls his eyes, "Christine sounded like she was having a breakdown, that receptionist's choice of words seemed... well, y'know..." he sighs, "You can't keep sugarcoating this shit. You have to be upfront with me."

  "If he was dead, they wouldn't let us in, would they?"

  "Well, if he was dead, his corpse definitely won't be in there. I don't think that's very sanitary, so hey, you don't have to be scared of seeing that at least."

  "God, you're horrible."

  Rich is the first to put his hand on the doorknob. He takes a second to breathe before opening it.

  When the door is finally open, I could clearly hear laughter emitting from inside.

  Jeremy's laughter.

  "Oh my god, you absolute dumbass, did you seriously think I was just straight up dead?"

  "Wh—"

  "We can hear you through the door, guys," Christine says, almost snickering, bur deciding not to, considering the grim expressions on Rich and I's faces.

  "B-But... the... the receptionist... and Christine, you—"

  "God, did I really sound that freaked out?" Chrsitine finally lets out a little laugh, "I'm an actress, Michael, sorry about that. I didn't mean to legitimately terrify you."

  "Why'd you call us over?" Rich finally spoke up.

  "Jeremy and I were joking about how you haven't returned his skateboarding dinosaur socks he lent you, and you and Rich were taking a while, so he just suggested I call. I got the bright idea to act all panicked to make it seem more serious than it actually was, didn't mean to put you guys in actual distress.'

"God, I hate you," I look at Jeremy momentarily and just appreciate that he's here and okay and laughing along to the situation.

"Okay, was the receptionist in on this? Because she was the one freaking me the fuck out," Rich says.

"The... receptionist? No? Why? What'd she say?"

"She was all like: 'Oh, he had such a nice life, he was so young, how tragic, hope you dumbasses get better soon.'" I say.

  "I think the receptionist was bamboozling you," Jeremy says, starting to laugh again.

  "Can she legally?" I sigh.