I noticed when I published the previous chapter... 500k words, you know, half a million words, no big deal.
'Filler' chapter, more like a connector one.
Enjoy.
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We both froze for a second until the phone rang once more.
Moving quickly, almost falling off her position on my lap, Diane stood up, frantically scanning her room for a fraction of a second before stopping.
The phone rang again.
"What do I do?" Diane asked nervously.
Given the time, it was possible that Mrs. Cooper had been watching the window all night, waiting for us to come back... it was also possible that it was my own mother.
"Answer it?" I replied, not entirely sure.
As if she feared that would be my answer, Diane closed her eyes tightly, fixing her breathing, and for a moment seemed to consider doing nothing. But finally, she let out a silent, defeated laugh, leaving the condom on the bed next to me.
With the phone ringing again, like a reminder, Diane moved quickly, searching under her pillow. A second later she pulled out a hoodie, one that reached down to her knees, once 'dressed', she quickly left her room.
Lying back on the bed, I controlled my own breathing; my whole body was now covered in a thin layer of sweat.
With my pulse and breathing under control, I left Diane's room shortly after, hiding my still present erection, wearing my pants and quickly slipping my arms into my shirt sleeves.
Outside, I found Diane hugging herself against the cold night air while talking on the phone next to the kitchen counter. With more natural lighting outside her room, I saw the hoodie she was wearing one I was pretty sure was mine.
I remembered giving it to her one of the days we worked late on the paper, but I had no idea she still had it, and more importantly, I had no idea that I didn't have it at home.
"All right, yeah see you there," Diane said, catching my attention, "yeah don't worry, I'll be there, thank you," she added, nodding at the phone. A moment later, she ended the call, hanging the phone in its place.
Buttoning the last buttons of my shirt, "Meemaw?" I asked, easily deducing there was no one else outside the Cooper house who would call Meemaw's home. Plus, knowing the woman, it was quite likely she had gotten herself into some kind of trouble.
"Yeah," Diane replied, walking toward me, "it was the bartender at 'Mane's'," she explained, calmly hugging me, possibly for warmth. "Meemaw is too drunk to drive."
Returning the hug to Diane, offering all the warmth my body could give. "Okay, let's call a cab to go pick up Meemaw."
Lifting her face from my chest, "You don't have to come," Diane said softly.
"I know, but I want to," I replied, shrugging indifferently.
Smiling gently, "Okay," Diane murmured, tugging at my freshly buttoned shirt.
Letting myself be pulled by Diane, I leaned in and kissed her again.
When Diane pulled away to breathe, "Let's call the taxi first," I whispered, forcing myself to stop.
"Yeah," Diane puffed, and as if she knew how much effort it was taking me to hold back in that moment, she slowly licked her lip.
Lightly pinching my leg, I exhaled with difficulty. I needed to wet my face and head with cold water. Which is what I did while Diane called a taxi.
Returning to the living room, Diane now dressed in a pair of leggings, was sitting on the couch, hugging her legs that were almost completely covered by the hoodie.
"That hoodie's mine, right?" I asked, taking a seat next to her.
"Yes," she replied, without a hint of shame, stretching the garment to get a good look at it.
The hoodie was one of the many gifts President Hagemeyer had given me the day my parents signed the necessary documents for me to be part of the university's 'student body'. I had really only worn it once or twice. In fact, it was the hoodie I had taken on the trip with Case.
"I was planning to give it back in a few days," Diane added calmly.
"In a few days?" I asked, genuinely intrigued. I had no problem with Diane having it after all, she'd wear it more than I would.
"Yeah, it's really comfy," she replied, slipping her hands into the hoodie sleeves, "I'm going to buy some sweaters in bigger sizes," she added, lifting the hoodie to her nose.
With her knees near her chest, her hands in the sleeves, and the hoodie up to her nose, Diane was virtually covered entirely by my hoodie. From the comfort she seemed to be in, it looked like a position she'd been in before.
Shaking my head in amusement, "Keep it," I said, resting my head on the back of the couch, "it looks much better on you than on me."
Still in her nearly 'fetal' position, Diane silently let herself fall to my side fortunately at a speed that allowed me to prepare for the impact, catching her in a simple hug.
In a comfortable silence, we waited in the living room, lit only by the moonlight filtering through Meemaw's white curtains. Not long after, a car's headlights appeared in front of the house. Without needing to peek out, we knew it was the taxi.
After giving the address, we left, making small talk with the driver who at first seemed intrigued by my formality.
"Have a good night," I said to the man after paying, closing the taxi door.
Immediately, outside the bar with an old western theme, we found Meemaw sitting on a bench, slightly moving her head as if constantly searching for a point of balance.
As we approached, "Aces!" the woman exclaimed, surprised, "what are you doing here?" she asked.
"Diane called me to come with her," I explained, offering my hand to the woman.
Raising one of her eyebrows, Meemaw looked me up and down, clearly noticing I was still formally dressed, then shifted her attention to Diane. In silence, she took my hand, allowing me to help her to her feet. Whatever her conclusion was, she didn't say it.
She definitely knew.
"Thanks for coming, sweetheart," she said, speaking to Diane.
"Of course, Meemaw," Diane said, taking the woman's purse.
As she took a step, the woman's foot gave out, making her lose balance for a fraction of a second and forcing me to grab her arm to help her steady herself.
"I can walk just fine without your help," she declared, but made no move to free herself from my assistance.
"I'm just being a gentleman," I said, adjusting my arm so she could lean on me and not the other way around.
Meemaw scoffed, "Gentleman my ass," she said jokingly.
Ignoring the older woman's words, "How was your tournament?" Diane asked.
"We lost," Meemaw replied, inadvertently explaining her current state.
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Diane, pressing her lips together.
"Ah, it's all right," Meemaw said nonchalantly, "there's always the next tournament," she added, shrugging.
It wasn't hard to find Meemaw's car in the bar parking lot. Just a few spots from the entrance, we got there relatively quickly.
While Diane searched for the car keys inside the purse, at least four times larger than Diane's own. I had no idea how many things were in the older woman's purse, but judging by how long it took Diane to find the keys, definitely a few more than the six things Diane carried in hers.
"I'm honestly fine to drive, but the laws have us all tied up," Meemaw said with disdain, slurring slightly.
"I believe you," I said, raising my free hand, "but better not risk it with the police," I added, making the woman nod while looking at the street.
A moment later, returning her attention to me, "Speaking of risks," the woman murmured, "I hope you used protection," she warned, raising her finger.
Even though I knew Meemaw had a vague idea of what had happened before she called her own house, the fact that she confronted me directly caught me completely off guard.
Before I could make something up, "I wasn't born yesterday," Meemaw explained proudly, "but I'm still way too young to be a great grandmother," she declared, waving her hand.
At that very moment, "Found them!" Diane exclaimed excitedly, pulling the keys out of the purse.
"Well, you heard her, let's go Aces," Meemaw said, patting my arm, apparently completely moving past our previous conversation.
"Yeah," I said, deciding to drop the subject too, I really don't think Diane or I needed Meemaw or anyone else's warning to be smart about it. Especially Diane, who had done a whole research project on the topic.
Inside Meemaw's car which somehow smelled exactly like some parts of her house, I adjusted the seat and mirrors before starting the engine and driving out of the bar's parking lot.
During the ride back home, Meemaw, sitting in the back seat, "interrogated" Diane about the date, from the ride there, the restaurant, the food, to the ride back. I didn't know if she did it on purpose, but she completely avoided asking anything about what happened in the interval between returning home and picking her up.
Just a few minutes from getting home, red and blue lights suddenly flashed in the car mirrors, accompanied by the characteristic sound of a brief but clear siren.
"The police?" Diane asked, puzzled.
"Oh no... no no no," Meemaw murmured from the back, suddenly sitting up straight.
Without wasting time, I calmly pulled the car to the side of the road, carefully parking at the curb. The moment I turned off the engine, Meemaw leaned forward with an urgency somewhat disproportionate for someone in her state.
"Switch with me!" she whispered quickly, trying to climb over the side of the seat.
"What" I murmured, confused. "Meemaw," I said, holding back a nervous laugh, "what are you doing?"
"You're a minor, you're not supposed to be driving," said the woman, who for some reason completely forgot that I had my own car.
Scoffing. "I have a driver's license," I said calmly, gently pushing Meemaw back.
"Oh yeah," the woman murmured, as if just remembering what had happened.
While turned in my own seat after guiding Meemaw back to hers, I noticed that next to me, Diane was completely rigid, staring straight ahead.
Before I could ask what the problem was, the window on my side tapped. At some point, the officer had arrived.
"Good evening, officer," I said after rolling down the window.
"Good evening, do you know why I pulled you over?" she asked calmly.
"No, officer," I replied immediately.
The woman nodded briefly, shining her flashlight into the car. Her gaze paused briefly on Meemaw, who had remained completely silent since I rolled down the window.
"You have one of your rear lights out," the woman explained, shifting her gaze to Diane. "Is everything okay, miss?" she asked, puzzled.
The question caught my attention, making me turn to look at Diane, who maintained the same pose that had struck me as odd before. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, rigid beyond reason.
"Yeah," Diane replied with a nervous smile, turning her head.
"Okay," the officer murmured, shining her flashlight on my face, suspiciously studying my features.
I didn't know what was going on with Diane, but it was obvious the officer was forming a strange image of me in her head.
Before I could say anything to defend my image from the officer's mind, "Wait a moment, you're the boy genius from that newspaper article," she declared, surprised, raising her eyebrows, "something Duncan," she added.
"PJ," I said, relieved, nodding.
"Great," she said, removing the light from my face, "look I have this mole on my arm," she added, lighting her arm and moving to show me, "do I need to get it checked?" she asked.
"Can I take the flashlight?" I asked, leaning in. With the low lighting and the constant flash of the red and blue lights from the police car, it was incredibly hard to see anything.
"Sure," the officer replied, handing over the flashlight without issue.
"Has the mole changed in any way, scaling, color, shape, or size?" I asked, checking the area thoroughly.
"Not that I've noticed," she replied.
"Did it appear suddenly?" I asked, handing back the flashlight. I hadn't found anything unusual; it wasn't asymmetrical, its borders were clear, it had just one color and was a common size.
"No, I've had it my whole life," the woman replied, turning again to face me.
"Then I wouldn't worry too much. If there's no evolution, or unusual pigmentation on the palms, soles, or under the nails, it's quite possible it's just a normal mole," I said calmly. I didn't want to be in any way offensive with a law enforcement officer.
"All right, thank you," she said, hanging the flashlight on her belt, "you can go with a warning, but fix that headlight as soon as possible."
"First thing tomorrow," I replied seriously.
"Great, good night," she said, leaning into the window before turning and heading back to her car.
Once I started the car again. "Wow, that was exhilarating," declared Diane, pressing her hand to her chest.
"What?" I asked, incredulous.
"I thought we were going to jail," Diane declared, opening her eyes comically, "you were so calm back there," she added excitedly, holding my arm.
"You did good Aces," Meemaw said, "you would've been really useful to have in the car during my last interaction with a cop."
I had no intention of asking Meemaw what had happened.
When we got to her house, Meemaw went in on her own, much more sober than when we had picked her up. "Thanks for the ride, Aces," she said as a goodbye, closing the door behind her.
"You're welcome," I said to the closed door, making Diane snort amusedly beside me.
"Thanks for coming with me," she said, resting her head on my shoulder.
"You're welcome," I murmured.
We stayed silent for a second, at least I did, remembering what had happened just minutes ago standing in that spot and then inside the house.
"So-" we both said surprisingly at the same time, interrupting each other.
"Please," Diane murmured first.
Scoffing. "That happened," I said, amused.
"Yes," Diane said, hugging my arm. "Unfortunately, we couldn't continue," she added without shame.
"Yeah, another day," I said, scoffing, mentally preparing myself to take a 'long' shower when I got home.
"You know..." Diane murmured, avoiding my gaze, "part of my deal with the university is having an office, a place to work on campus. I have a dorm that so far only holds a lot of papers," she added softly.
"A dorm," I murmured, nodding, immediately understanding what she meant.
Since Diane was obviously cold, we spent just a couple more minutes hugging outside Meemaw's house before saying goodbye. It had definitely been a good date.
At home, understandably, no one was awake. Carefully grabbing my pajamas from my room without waking Gabe, I went out to take a 'shower' I desperately needed, because being alone in the silence and darkness, the memories of what had happened with Diane inevitably came to my mind.
The next day, early in the morning after my run and morning routine, dressed for the day, I entered the kitchen where the rest of my family was.
"Why do I have to go alone?" Gabe exclaimed, clearly angry, when I walked in.
Teddy was sitting, trying to calm Charlie who was crying loudly in his special seat on the table. Bob, next to Mom, was working on breakfast, dividing his attention between what he was cooking and Charlie from afar, along with Teddy, trying to get the baby to stop crying.
"It's paid for, there's nothing to do about it," Mom declared seriously, pointing at Gabe with a wooden spatula.
"Good morning," I said, confused by all the controlled chaos.
"Good morning," Mom replied, instantly switching from her serious face to a wide smile, "how was your dinner with Diane?" she asked with interest.
"It was good, thanks," I replied, approaching the table next to Gabe, looking at the boy curiously since he looked visibly offended, "what's going on?" I asked.
"I have to go to summer camp!" Gabe exclaimed, making Charlie, who was already crying, cry even louder, "it's so unfair."
Scoffing. "Unfair?" I asked.
"Yeah, they're stealing my vacation," Gabe replied, throwing his hands up.
"It's just one week," said Teddy, rolling her eyes, exasperated. Possibly the argument had been going on for a while.
"Yeah, one week of MY vacation," Gabe commented sarcastically, "how would you feel if you had to stop doing your dumb stuff in your room?"
"I'd be fine because I'm not a crybaby," Teddy replied immediately, "no offense," she added, looking at Charlie who was still crying.
"Shut up, I'm not a crybaby," Gabe defended himself immediately.
"Then stop acting like one," Teddy murmured, raising her arms.
"You two stop that," Mom warned, pointing again with her spatula, throwing what looked like scrambled egg toward the table, "Bob, say something."
"Stop fighting," he ordered seriously, "what time did you get home last night?" he asked a moment later.
"Around one in the morning," I replied over Teddy and Gabe's yelling, who continued arguing.
"Everything okay at the restaurant?" Bob asked, flipping a pancake.
"Yeah."
"Good."
"You're just a dumb girl and your friends are too," Gabe shouted while Teddy exaggerated the cry of a baby.
"At least I have friends," Teddy shot back, and the kitchen went silent. Even Charlie, who had been crying, stopped.
She had gone too far.
"Teddy," Mom yelled, angry, scolding my sister with her gaze.
Gabe definitely had friends, he often went out to play on the street with a bunch of kids, including Billy Spark and the Coopers, more Missy than Sheldon... just Missy. The problem was that none of those friends were close enough for Gabe to have someone like Teddy or like me. In other words, Gabe didn't have a "best friend."
"Sorry," murmured Teddy. She seemed genuinely regretful for what she had said.
"All right," I said, lifting Gabe without much trouble and moving him to a chair farther away from Teddy. "Why don't you want to go to summer camp?" I asked my brother, taking the seat where Gabe had been sitting. "It can be pretty cool."
"Or it can be pretty lame," Gabe replied, pretending not to care about what Teddy had said, I could tell he did.
"You won't know unless you go. What's the problem with having something to do for a week?" I asked. "I promise there will be interesting activities."
"Yeah champ, there's a lake with kayaks, horses, team games, sports, campfires, there's even a zip line that crosses part of the lake," Bob said. "You can even bring your guitar and use those Duncan genes," he added, winking, immediately earning a hit with a spatula full of eggs.
"There will be dozens of kids your age. It's going to be fun, I promise," Mom said softly.
"But it's a whole week," Gabe murmured.
"Yeah, just one week out of the seven left," I said, hugging the boy. "I promise that if you don't enjoy it, when you come back we can go do whatever you want."
"Really?" he asked.
"Yeah," I answered immediately. "Besides..." I added in a low voice, "I can teach you how to play cards," I said in a whisper, immediately catching Gabe's attention.
"Okay," Gabe said out loud, visibly relieving our parents.
"You're going to have fun," Mom assured.
"Yeah I will," Gabe replied, smiling at me significantly.
Mom didn't notice and kept cooking and chatting with Bob, gradually bringing the kitchen noise back to what it was on a normal day.
"One condition," I said quietly, leaning toward Gabe.
"What?" he asked seriously.
Nodding toward Teddy, who was now playing with a giggling Charlie, I looked at Gabe seriously.
Sighing silently and pouting slightly, he exhaled. "I'm sorry for calling you and your friends dumb, Teddy," he said softly, catching our sister and parents' attention.
"I'm sorry for calling you a crybaby," Teddy replied quickly, possibly embarrassed that Gabe was the first to apologize. "Also for lying about your friends. You do have friends," she added awkwardly.
"It's all right," murmured Gabe, avoiding eye contact.
I didn't know how else to help my brother. It's not like I could find a kid and make them be his friend.
As promised, I showed Gabe in our room how to play cards, or at least the games I knew.
"So it's high card, pair, two pair, three of a kind, straight, flush, full house, four of a kind, straight flush, and royal flush," Gabe read from his notes.
"Yeah," I said, amused, watching Gabe make extra notes along the edge of a sheet he was working on.
"Great," murmured Gabe, smiling at his notebook. "So I can play for money, right?" he asked, lifting his face.
I sighed. "Yeah, but only against people willing to play. You're not going to steal from anyone or trick anyone," I warned seriously.
"Yeah, yeah," Gabe replied, avoiding eye contact.
"I'm serious, Gabe. I don't want you getting into trouble over this," I said, giving his arm a light hit. "You're only going to play against people willing to lose their money or stuff, never against someone younger than you and you will no cheat."
Raising his hands, "Okay, I promise," he assured me, frowning.
"All right," I said, nodding. "Let's go wash my car and then we can go buy your cards," I added, checking my watch. "One more thing, Mom can't know about this."
"I know that," Gabe replied obviously, folding the sheet and putting it in a Velcro wallet I didn't even know he had.
Snorting, I placed a hand on his head as we left our room. "Come on."
My car wasn't all that dirty, really. Its black color gleamed in the sunlight, but I had a routine of washing it every few days, and besides, Gabe needed a little money.
It was still early, but it was already starting to get hot. As usual, the street was relatively full of people going about their day. After greeting a couple of people walking their dogs or jogging past the house, Gabe and I finished washing my car.
While I was picking up everything Gabe and I had used, a truck sped down the end of the street, parking in front of Meemaw's house and briefly driving up onto the curb. The horn honked twice before the passenger-side window rolled down. "There's the guy!" Mandela shouted, wearing sunglasses that covered half her face. Next to her, Kat, who also wore sunglasses, peeked out and gave a small wave.
"Hey," I murmured, waving back.
A second later, Meemaw's front door opened, and Diane stepped out smiling, dressed in a light sweater.
"Hey, good morning," Diane said, surprised to see me outside my house. "We're going out for breakfast," she explained, pointing to Mandela's truck.
"And we're going to talk about you," Mandela added, smiling mischievously.
I could imagine.
"Have fun," I said as a goodbye, watching Diane get into the car, which drove off a second later.
With nothing to do for the day, and since it was a bit warmer than usual, to fully reconcile them, I took Teddy and Gabe out for ice cream. We were going to bring Charlie with us, but Mom avoided it, claiming she was still too little.
The next day, Monday, Gabe left for his camp in a big yellow school bus, one of three, all full of kids his age and similar.
"He looks so happy," I said beside my parents, watching as Gabe looked in our direction with a perfectly neutral face as the bus pulled away.
"Yeah," murmured Bob, snorting.
"He's going to have fun," Mom said, rocking Charlie in her arms, seeming to reassure herself more than anything.
"Oh yeah, sounds like a fun camp," I said immediately, nodding. I didn't want Mom to feel bad.
"You know, we were this close to offering you as a camp counselor," Bob said, smiling widely.
"What?" I asked, incredulous.
Without saying anything, the two adults walked back to the car we had arrived in.
That day, when I got to the hospital, after greeting the nurses at reception and receiving the report of the weekend, which was nothing really that important, I headed to Dr. Cuddy's office.
"Emma, good afternoon," I said, greeting the doctor's secretary.
"Ah, PJ, what can I do for you?" the woman asked immediately, with a kind smile.
"Is Dr. Cuddy busy?" I asked.
Raising a finger, Emma pressed a button on what looked like an intercom on her desk. "PJ is here," she said, releasing the button a second later, maintaining the smile on her face.
"Thanks," I said, looking at the smiling woman.
A couple of seconds passed in complete silence when suddenly the office door swung open. "PJ," Dr. Cuddy said, smiling kindly. "Come in, please."
Entering the office, passing by the woman. "I'm not interrupting anything?" I asked, relieved that Vogler was no longer in the office.
"Oh no, not at all," she assured me. "What brings you here?" she asked, walking to her chair and sitting down. Strangely, Dr. Cuddy seemed uncomfortable with my presence there.
"Oh, I don't know if anyone told you about this, these past weeks I've been working on a review paper," I said, handing over the pages I had in my hand.
Taking the papers from my hand. "Oh thank God," Dr. Cuddy said, obviously relieved. "I thought he got to you," she added immediately, looking over the paper's title.
"Vogler?" I asked, interested.
Waving her hands dismissively. "Oh it's nothing."
From the way House had assured me that my place in the hospital was safe, it was clear that Vogler's presence in Dr. Cuddy's office hadn't just been about firing House. Judging only by the doctor's reaction and nervousness, I was a bit worried that maybe it wasn't completely safe.
"This is great. Do you need my help reviewing it?" the doctor asked, bringing my attention back to the room.
"Ah, yeah," I said, embarrassed. I didn't really need her help, but it would've been rude to say no. "That, and to see if there's any way the hospital can help me submit it for publication."
"Of course," she replied immediately. "What journal did you have in mind?" she asked, grabbing a pen from her desk, ready to write.
"I talked it over with Dr. Thomas, and he thinks Circulation is a viable option," I said, shrugging.
"Dr. Edward Thomas?" Dr. Cuddy asked, stopping the pen a few inches above the paper.
Nodding. "Yes," I replied.
"Then Circulation it is," the woman declared, writing it down on a post-it.
Dr. Cuddy kept me in her office for several minutes talking about various things, mostly the paper. Throughout the entire conversation, the woman tried, without much success, to hide an almost manic smile on her face. It was quite possible that the nonexistence of my paper had really put her in a bad position with Vogler.
Since there was no case to work on, everyone on the team was doing their own thing. House, as always, was in his office wasting time playing on his handheld console with his feet on his desk.
"You're late," he said without looking up from the small screen.
"How many times are we going to have this conversation?" I asked, falsely exasperated, as I hung up my backpack. "I don't have a schedule."
"As many times as necessary for you to learn to show up on time," House answered my question, completely ignoring my follow-up statement.
"I got here early. I went to talk to Dr. Cuddy," I explained, sighing as I sat down in one of the free chairs in front of his desk.
"Should I be worried about the police showing up at my house?" he asked, overly concerned, taking his attention away from his video game.
"In general, yes," I declared seriously, "but not because of me," I added. "I went to deliver the paper."
Nodding. "Oh, the prodigal son makes a move," House commented, going back to his game. "Was she grinning like crazy?"
"Really uncomfortable," I replied, nodding.
Snorting, House shook his head without saying anything.
The days went by. With Gabe out of our room, I experienced for the first time what it was like not to share a room with anyone, an odd but at the same time incredibly liberating feeling. Like last week, my routine barely changed, except that I didn't have to go to school, having several free hours in the morning. I still went to the hospital and trained with Case.
The day after visiting Dr. Cuddy, I was called to her office again, as the paper was already under review for publication, a process that could take several months.
Two days after our date, Diane and I went to see a movie, and for the first time we visited the dorms at East Texas Tech. Diane had an entire double dorm to herself; one of the beds was occupied by boxes full of papers, same with her desk, which gave the place a familiar, lived-in messiness, like she really already belonged there. Aside from that, the room fulfilled its purpose of privacy.
At first, we discussed the movie. Diane, as always, somehow found super deep aspects in a film about a serial killer who ate his victims. With that, much more relaxed, things began more tenderly than the night of our date. There was no rush since there was no one to call on the phone. We had time to fully explore each other's bodies and take the next step completely.
That day, we ended up staying much longer than we had planned, coming back quite late with the excuse of having taken a walk through the park.
That same Friday, while we were having breakfast at home, the phone rang. Mom immediately stood up to answer it. It was quite possible it was a nurse or Mrs. Cooper with gossip.
Exclaiming in surprise, Mom caught everyone's attention. "Oh my God," she said, covering her face. "Yes, of course," she added seriously. "Is she alive?" she asked softly a moment later.
Mom's question immediately made everyone who understood, worry. Charlie, sitting in her little portable rocker, laughed trying to reach a toy hanging over her head.
A second later. "Thank God," Mom murmured, hanging up the phone. "A girl at Gabe's camp had a cardiac arrest," Mom explained slowly, completely in shock.
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Author Thoughts:
As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, not a fighter, not Magnus Carlsen, not Michael Phelps, not Arsene Lupin, not McLovin, not Elliot, not Capone.
Another chapter has passed, so new thanks are in order. I would like to especially thank:
11332223
RandomPasserby96
Victor_Venegas
I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.
Thank you for reading! :D
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