Insert Witty Title Here :) - S. N. Albright (ebook offline reader .TXT) 📗

I had never noticed Nathan before in cooking. We never even spoke, only maybe once or twice. But those little chats gave off a very nice radiance. He had a pleasant attitude; he was friendly, and so on.

He sat two tables away from me. He had his right arm in a sling and a heavy bandage on his upper right arm too. His left hand on the table held up his head. He seemed very depressed. Amy was right. A large purple bruise was on his left eye and around it. It was so awful. But I couldn’t help but wonder how he could’ve gotten these injuries if he wasn’t even there.

When Mr. Knight asked us to pair up for our next assignment, everyone quickly picked someone other than Nathan for a partner, which made it easier for me to pick him, considering I had a lot of questions for him.

“Hey Nathan! Partners?” I asked with false cheeriness. “Uh, sure.” He looked at me weird at first, but then he accepted it. We went over and began to prepare our next assignment, bacon.

“Can I have the bacon?” I asked, trying to figure out how fit in the subject of last Friday. He struggled to open the classroom freezer, reached for the bacon, and handed it over. We were pretty silent. Then randomly, he said, “I think know why you were so eager to be partners.” I was kind of surprised of how he just blurted that out. “Oh, do you now?” I looked straight down at the bacon as it sizzled, refraining from looking at him in the eyes. “You were there that day. I wasn’t.” He continued.
“Uh huh.”
“Well, now you’re wondering why I’m all beat up.”
“Nathan, why are you faking? You could just deny it you know! Why do you lie to everyone!You’re not fooling me. This isn’t a joke to me, Nathan!” I looked away from the stove, and angrily glared at him, but he seemed irritated.
“Grace, I’m not lying!”
“Wow, how retarded do you think I am?”
“You want me to prove it? I know who it was that had the gun.”
“That won’t prove anything. Probably 80 kids saw through the open classroom door.”
“I don’t want to make a big deal. I don’t want people to know that both Kevin and I got hurt, but he’s in the hospital! It’d seem like David was easy on me! Like he pitied me, and knew I was weaker. Its not like it doesn’t hurt, Grace!
I was confused. Then, I looked at his heavily bandaged arm.“Did you know-” Nathan whispered, then paused “That David is now in Juvy?”
“…What? I didn’t… how? Nobody saw who it was. How did…?”
“When David was running away, I followed him outside-please don’t make a big deal about it- and tackled him, as sort of a diversion, you know, until the cops arrived.”
“Nathan. Can you remove that bandage?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Do it.”
“No!”
“NOW.”

He looked around to see no one was watching, and then reluctantly unraveled the many layers of gauze. He winced when he unraveled the last row. I saw a terrible bloody dent. It was horrifying, disgusting, and familiar. “Nathan. You were-” I swallowed my spit.
“-Shot.” He looked disapprovingly, and then quickly reapplied his bandages.

“Is that proof enough?” I felt immediately awful for yelling at him, accusing him of lying. “Nathan, I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t. Don’t tell anyone.”
“So, your just going to live with all the crap these oblivious kids give you?”

He was about to say something in response, and then Mr. Knight came over and looked at our bacon. I had completely forgot about it. “Tut, tut. This is awful. Look at this…this… trash! This is bacon gone badly. Throw it away. Try again tomorrow. Good god! How could you do something like that? It takes dedication to fail that badly!” He laughed, and then put his hand on our shoulders. “You two ‘love birds’ should stop gazing at each other. I get it. I have a wife. Just take time to look ahead of you.” Then he winked. We said simultaneously, “Mr. Knight… no we’re…” he walked away, and Nathan made a gesture of disregard in Mr. Knight’s “Oh, forget it.” We laughed. Then the bell rang, and Home Economics was over.

I went home that day, wishing I’d asked Nathan why he hadn’t gone to the hospital, just for a check up. A gunshot is a gunshot. It doesn’t matter where it is; it does at least minimal damage to your body. I’m beginning to worry about both Kevin and Nathan. Kevin, because he hasn’t returned to school in 6 days now, and Nathan, because what if he doesn’t go to the hospital soon, and his arm gets worse?

Thank god it was almost the end of the week. It was Thursday, and I saw Nathan again in Spanish. I didn’t want to ask Nathan why he hadn’t gone to the doctor, because his mom or dad must’ve noticed by now, and so there must be a legitimate reason. So, finally I decided not to yell, as though not to persecute him.

I slid him a note that read:
“Nathan, I don’t want to have to bring the topic up again.”
He wrote back:
“What’s the occasion?”
And we continued this:
“Why haven’t you gone to the doctor?”
“You haven’t told anyone about the truth, have you? Or about me?”
“No”
“Good”
“Answer my question, please”

And all he wrote back was: “$” then I responded with “What do you mean?” but never got a response. Nathan just crumpled up the note we’d written all over, and shoved it in his pocket. I looked at him worriedly and confused, then he put his index finger to his lips as to tell me to shut up.

What does he mean by money? Does his family have enough to go to the hospital? Wait, that’s it. He can’t pay the bill! Well, now that I think about it, treating wounds, and long term stay at the hospital would most likely rack up to a big bill. Poor Nathan, he’s going to loose his arm if this keeps up!

I came to the conclusion that on Friday afternoon, I would visit the local hospital to ask if there were any sort of discounts for under privileged persons.

I walked home from school and asked my mom if I could go. It took some coaxing to let her allow m, without telling her why. I used the excuse of ‘to visit the patients and help out. Its something the school suggested, if I had any free time, and it just so happens I do, mom!’ She reluctantly agreed a short while after. I got onto my bike, and rode to the hospital.

I arrived in the very much sterile hospital lobby. The wall were white, there was a manila colored carpet on the floor, and a set or chairs lined up against the wall on the right. The room smelled of overuse of Windex and hand sanitizer. And after I’d finished analyzing, I noticed a woman in a white dress, sitting behind a desk, looking at me questioningly. Then I also realized I was the only person in the waiting room.

I walked up the desk and said, “Slow day?” She laughed. “Nice observation. My name is Olivia, how can I help you?” I responded with a smile on my face, “Um, Well, actually I was wondering if your hospital provided some sort of discount for-” I paused, thinking of the appropriate word “- under privileged families?” She put on what seemed like a face that expressed intent thought. “Well, it depends how serious the case it, Ma’am.” I looked gravely at Olivia. “A friend of mine recently was shot, and I’m the only person that knows. I’ve come to see that he hasn’t come here yet, because he’s-” I stopped again, “-Financially challenged.” Olivia looked at me as if she’d just seen a ghost. “Oh my god, shot? He needs to get here right away.” “But, Miss Olivia, he can’t. He doesn’t have any money! And I don’t want to confront him, because he’s very sensitive on the subject, but I’m worried he might loose him arm!” My voice cracked at the end. “He might as well loose his arm if he doesn’t come in. I’m sure we can figure something out with the money situation. If you can, tell him that we can surely accommodate him.”

She got out from behind her desk, and stood in front of me. “Coming to us was probably harder than I can imagine, Miss.” She looked at me with a hard stare. “But you’ve been vary noble, in my opinion. This boy is lucky to have you as a friend.” I smiled. “Thank you, so much.” And ran out the door, got back onto my bike, and rode home, home to a weekend of agonizingly rehearsing what I would say.

Finally Monday came round again. I still hadn’t figured