Bad Boys Guide | How to Get a Good-Girl

Step Eight: Save Her Life

"I... I don't know." Angelica says. My poor Angel. I think, and turn to a medic. "What happened?" I repeat, but they just shake their heads. If no one is going to take her health seriously, then I will. I look to Angel, asking, "What are your symptoms?"

"I... I've been getting migraines a lot..." she trails off. Her breathing is heavy. That's a bad sign.

"Anything else?"

"Sore throat, I think. It just feels--" she pauses to catch her breath, "--really bad." Please don't let it be what I think it is. please, please, please.

I get to work, rummaging through the doctor's, who are now just staring at me, dumbfounded, bags, looking for a light. I can't find one. Dammit.

"Can someone pass me a light?" I ask the doctors. They just stare, unmoving. I press further. "Now."

They finally move, and one passes my a light from her coat pocket. Finally! I think, shining the light in her throat. Just then, her dad walks in. I tried to keep the door locked, but he picked it, and now he was angry.

He comes at me, but Angie puts a hand up. "He's just trying to help. Let him. Please."

He shakes his head. "What does this boy know, huh? He's what, 15?" 

"17," I mutter, but keep at my work. "Shit!" I curse under my breath, and that catches Mr. Grace's attention. "What is it?" he asks, worried.

"There," I say, pointing with the light to her tonsils and throat. Inside, there's a thick milky substance.

"What is it?" he asks in shock. He's visibly panicking now, almost as much as I am on the inside.

"Nothing too bad," I say, knowing I'm lying even as I say it.

I look back to the doctors. "Do any of you have Penicillin G?"

They all shake their heads. I groan. "Dammit!"

I say again under my breath. I look to Mr. Grace. "What all medicine do you have?" I ask.

"I mean, I have ibuprofen and aspirin for pain... benadryl... I once had rheumatic fever and had to get erythromycin f--" I cut him off.

"--get that." I say.

I look to Angelica, tears dripping from her cheeks. "Am I going to be okay?" she asks me. I cup her head in my hands. "Of course! Don't worry, alright? Everything is going to be a-okay."

She nods, and I let out a sigh of releif. Everything is going to be fine. Then I remember. "I need one of you to run to the nearest pharmacy and ask them for Penicillin G. Tell them it's urgent. Go!"

They do as told, and as they are leaving, Angelica's father comes back in with the erythromycin.

"This should hold up until we get the penicillin," I say. "Until then, she should be alright."

We stand stand in silence for a moment, before I ask for Angelica's weight. For a moment, he gets angry. I quickly explain that it's so that I know how much to give her, but he still doesn't seem entirely convinced.

He finally opens his mouth, saying, "137 pounds." I nod, and Angelica turns, sad, almost. I smile.

"But if you ever comment on that again--" her father says, and I shake my head. "No, no! I was just happy that she isn't starving herself like some of the other girls at school. She's healthy."

"Oh." he says, and we go back to silence as I give her the correct dosage medicine, chopping one of the pink pills in half.

"What's that do?" Angelica croaks before taking them.

"It makes sure that the bad toxins in your body don't spread." I say. She still looks hesitant.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I've never taken a pill before." she explains. I set a cup of water by her bed, and ask her to wait until I come back.