(no subject)
I was in heaven,
I was in hell.
Believe in neither,
Spinner went to bed early the night before, anticipating another headache waking him up from slumber at four in the morning.
He was right.
When he came back to himself that morning, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone.
Blair was leaning against his closed bedroom door, looking at him. He could somehow tell, maybe by the look in her eyes, that she had been there since the headache had started. He vaguely wondered if he had cried out this time. Maybe he cried out every time, but no one had heard him.
She spoke.
"Gavin?"
He coughed, wincing as he did so.
"How long?"
"What?" he croaked. His throat was raw. He was afraid he was going to be sick.
"How long have you been having these little episodes?"
He turned away.
"Did you have one Friday morning? Is that why you didn't go to school?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because I can be a caring person, when the need arises."
"Well, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"Yeah, I'm pale and shaky and I look like hell. I know, okay? Marco already told me."
"You need to see a doctor."
"No, I don't."
"Gavin..."
He ignored her again.
There was a long pause.
"Spinner!"
He turned to look at her. He had never even heard her utter his nickname, which felt more his real name now. Much less had she ever addressed him by it.
"Let me take you to a doctor."
He thought about it. Maybe...
"No. Now, please, go away so I can get back to sleep?"
"I'll take that as a maybe. Let me know." She left as silently has she must have come.
Spinner rolled over and shook his head.
This one's a doctor
This one's a lawyer
This one's a cash fiend
taking your money
Back of the metro
Ride on the greyhound
Drunk on the Amtrak
Please shut up
I was in hell.
Believe in neither,
Spinner went to bed early the night before, anticipating another headache waking him up from slumber at four in the morning.
He was right.
When he came back to himself that morning, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone.
Blair was leaning against his closed bedroom door, looking at him. He could somehow tell, maybe by the look in her eyes, that she had been there since the headache had started. He vaguely wondered if he had cried out this time. Maybe he cried out every time, but no one had heard him.
She spoke.
"Gavin?"
He coughed, wincing as he did so.
"How long?"
"What?" he croaked. His throat was raw. He was afraid he was going to be sick.
"How long have you been having these little episodes?"
He turned away.
"Did you have one Friday morning? Is that why you didn't go to school?"
"Why do you care?"
"Because I can be a caring person, when the need arises."
"Well, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"Yeah, I'm pale and shaky and I look like hell. I know, okay? Marco already told me."
"You need to see a doctor."
"No, I don't."
"Gavin..."
He ignored her again.
There was a long pause.
"Spinner!"
He turned to look at her. He had never even heard her utter his nickname, which felt more his real name now. Much less had she ever addressed him by it.
"Let me take you to a doctor."
He thought about it. Maybe...
"No. Now, please, go away so I can get back to sleep?"
"I'll take that as a maybe. Let me know." She left as silently has she must have come.
Spinner rolled over and shook his head.
This one's a doctor
This one's a lawyer
This one's a cash fiend
taking your money
Back of the metro
Ride on the greyhound
Drunk on the Amtrak
Please shut up