Hey guys! I have recently been introduced to the world of 13, and I have decided to write a fic for it! Enjoy!
"Archie honey, wake up!" my mother yelled from downstairs.
"umhm, coming!" I shouted weakly in return. Ugh! I hadn't been this tired in a long time. I twitched slightly as my muscles tensed up. I let out a whimper. Stupid legs. They just love to make my life hard.
I struggled with a t-shirt, and attempted to get on my jeans. That was a lost battle. I settled with just my pajama pants, and loosely tied sneakers. I hoisted myself up, and grabbed one of my crutches before I hit the floor. I landed hard on my knees. At least it wasn't my face!
Mom ran up the stairs to my room. She must have heard the thud.
"What happened?" she asked frantically, "are you okay?"
"mom. I just fell. I'm fine."
That as a lye. My whole body ached like it had just been thrown off a sky-scraper. Nothing was broken, I think. No, that would hurt worse. I fingered along my leg. Though I couldn't feel it, it still lurched away. That can't be good. I pulled myself up and flopped backwards onto the bed. Mom had left by then, thank gosh. From my bed, I tried to stand up again. So there I stood, leaning on my crutches, looking at myself in the mirror. No wonder I only had two friends, I'm pathetic.
"Are you sure you feel up to going to school today?" mom asked.
"Yes mom. If the star-ship Enterprise can venture around the cosmos, surely I can make it to school another day."
"okay," she said, hugging me tightly, "just, please be careful."
"always." I muttered, getting on the 'special needs' bus. I hate this bus, personally.
I climbed into a empty seat, denying the drivers offer for help, propped the crutches (of evil) up beside me, and silently prayed that no one sat down in the open seat next to me. This was very degrading. I pulled out my phone and began to txt Evan, to get my mind off this morning.
Hey. Wuz up? NYC kid
oh, how's t bus? ;) NYC kid
wat do u think A~
same as usual? MYC kid
I no u 2 well lol! NYC kid
umhm. U skool yet? A~
just pulled up, gtg ttys! NYC kid
Well, that was fun while it lasted. We where about to pull up too. Thank gosh!
I stumbled through the door. It had been raining, so just about the whole school was soaked. Wet floor, my favorite! Not. I practically slid to my locker, running into Patrice on the way.
"Hey Arch!" she said, catching me from falling.
"Hi there." I replied, semi-sarcastically.
"what's wrong with you?"
"so, the usual?"
"yeah. I hurt, all over."
"you don't look so good. You sure you should be here?"
"I'll tough it out."
I usually just 'toughed it out'. This consists of being in terrible pain all day, and biting my lip, stumbling on. Yep, I'll tough it out.
Math, the first and worst class of the day. Ya just gotta love it. I stumbled into class, and sat down in my seat next to the window on the far right wall. Patrice sat in front of me, and Evan sat behind me. I stumbled in, like I said, and Patrice propped my crutches up for me. Thank goodness those two are there, or I would have a freakin' hard time sitting down.
"you okay Arch?" Evan asked.
"sure! If you consider slowly dying 'okay'" I replied sarcastically.
"you know what I mean."
"yeah, sure, I'm fine."
"Good to hear!" Mr. Doit, out math teacher, boomed, sneaking up behind me and ruffling my hair. As annoying as his antics where, he was still probably my favorite teacher.
"hi, Mr. Doit." I said, giving up my dignity in the 'hi'.
He walked to the front of the class and began to talk.
"alright class, take out your homework, and I'll take it up."
He walked from row to row, picking up papers. Once he reached my desk, he stared at me blankly for a moment before asking, "got your homework, Arch?"
"Well, that's gonna have to be a no." I replied, shaking my head.
"Okay, just meet my after class. We need to talk."
"dang..." I mumbled as he continued passing out papers.
After class Evan handed me my crutches and walked out with Patrice, while I hobbled to Mr. Doit's desk.
"You wanted to talk?" I asked.
"yes, Archie. Are you okay?"
"why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Well, I don't know about everyone else, but i'm asking you because you haven't turned in any assignments all week. You've got at least five zero's."
"Archie," he said, cutting me off, "you're a good student, and I'm really concerned about you. Please, tell me what's up." he said. He did actually look concerned.
"It's just, um," I paused, trying to decipher what personal information I wanted to tell him. I truly didn't want to tell him anything, but I knew he would never leave me alone until I did. Just something. "I've been hurting more lately."
Not completely a lye. I did hurt, much worse recently.
He looked at me, his eyes telling me, 'I know there's something else, so just spill'.
"okay, fine. Just don't tell anybody, okay?"
He nodded his head.
"next Friday, spinal chord surgery." I whispered to him.
His face went to a look of horror.
"who else knows?"
"uh, let me think. No one."
"Not even Patrice?"
He looked at me puzzled.
"what? She went all berserk when I told her last time! I can't let that happen again."
Last year I had my first surgery on my back. I called Patrice and told her about it a week in advance, and she started crying on spot. That scared me more than the surgery itself.
"I won't tell anyone." he promised, "Just bring in a note or something tomorrow, and we'll see what we can do about those zero's, okay?"
I limped out of the room and met Patrice and Evan at out lockers.
"What was that about?" he asked.
"This, that, and the other. You know how people love to worry about the poor little cripple."
Patrice giggled as I nudged Evan on the shoulder.
"True, true." he muttered jokingly.
"I don't know what we would possibly do without our little crip's since of humor."
Hi there! Now people, don't be offended. I know there's another story where Archie has spinal chord surgery, I know. But the dude has issues, and in this story he will have it again!
Archie: Shut up jerk. Have you looked at yourself lately?
Light (me): yes I have! And I look amassing! Looser!
Patrice: be nice!
Light: whatever, disclam!
Patrice and Archie: LightIsTheKey14 doesn't own 13 the musical!
Light: so, thanks for reading! Reviews are not just liked, but loved. It's like my pixie dust. It helps me fly! *fly's around the room * WWWWWEEEEEE!