The Transplant ✔️

4. Pity Me

Jobe's POV:

"Wait, did you say something?"

I'm not sure what was worse at this point: talking to Lisa, talking to a brick wall, or getting hit by said brick wall. Either way I balance the school, I come out as a loser.

I turned to face my girlfriend who was laying on my duvet, her spray- tanned feet on top of my night stand as she applies her third coat of blue nail polish to her toes.

"Maybe if you weren't busy painting your toes on my brand new night stand, you would have heard what I told you." I bit my tongue rather harshly in order to keep myself calm. I had a bad temper, especially when dealing with ill-mannered women.

"Oh, come on, J, don't be like that. You know I have to pay full attention to my toes. Painting my toes is like, mastering an art. And I can't have my art dripping on the side of my feet, now do I?" She batted her eyelashes my way, a petty habit of hers that was pretty sickening by now.

I would've commented further to tell her to do her nails in the bathroom, and that her perfume was bad enough that I didn't need the fumes of paint in my room, but I wasn't going to blow on an already lit fire. Instead, I let her paint her toes and decided to tell my story over, in hopes she would actually listen this go around.

"As I was saying, my freak of a father wants me to take the summer to reevaluate my way of life. He's making me go to the hospital to help some poor patient get a transplant." I looked in Lisa's direction, not completely positive if she heard anything I said. Right when I was going to lose my temper, she responded.

"That's stupid. You don't have to do that. He is seriously asking you to risk your life for some mental case you don't even know? Not to mention, you'll be having surgery the one summer we have to spend every day together. What am I supposed to do with my time?" She complained, proceeding to put her bottle of nail polish down, then grabbing the bottle labeled top coat. She used the top of the bottle of polish to scratch the brim of her freckled nose, keeping her fingers dry.

"Just because you're sick doesn't make you mental, Lisa. I'm sure you can find something to occupy your time; go shopping with your friends or something. It's clear that I don't have any choice in the matter of my father's decision, but let's hope that I'm not a match. Neither of us want me to have the surgery, believe me."

"Let's hope not." Lisa carefully stood up, her tank top strap falling over her shoulder. I quickly picked the strap up, being the gentleman I am. Our relationship was strictly PG-13, and thankfully so because this girl was already a leech.

"You're leaving?" I asked.

"Yes, I have to let my nails dry in the sun so I'll leave right now. I'll call you." She tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear, the dangling hoop earring sparkling in the light coming from the window. Those were two hundred dollar earrings I had purchased for her after much begging, so she better still be wearing those things.

"Okay, bye." I leant in for a kiss on her kips, but was redirected to her forehead.

"I have lipstick and blush on. Sorry." She squealed.

"Later. Oh, keep the door unlocked when you go; Andy is coming over."

"Too late, I'm here." Turning the corner in the unlit hallway, I notice my red head friend making his way to my bedroom.

"How long have you been here?" I questioned him.

"I raved your kitchen cabinet for some snacks, but your maid caught me, so I came here. Then I heard the two of you talking so I waited for some action between the two of you, but looks like I'll be stuck feeding the beast another way with the likes of your monotonous sex life." He hopped on the edge of my bed as Lisa maneuvered to the door.

"Ew, you're so gross, Andy. I'm out of here." Lisa grabbed her red high heels from the carpet and left the room in a hurry to get away from my pervert of a best friend.

"Is it your job to chase all of the women away?" I shook my head, taking a seat a foot away from him on the queen-sized bed, my feet hanging off the edge.

"Only the ones I can't have. I chase away girls like Lisa, the girl at the grocery store, my mom." Andy chuckled.

"You and I have that in common, my friend." My mother left when I was a young child, much like Andy's, leaving me with my over- complicated father. She left because of marital problems, but she never realized she was leaving me too. Oh well, her loss. I'll be successful regardless of her nonexistence in my life.

"So what's this I heard about your dad?" Great, for the third time today I have to explain it again. I'm really thinking about this whole brick wall idea was the way to go. Who needs friends when I have that to rely on?

"He's making me donate a kidney." I huffed.

"You mean, when you're dead right?" Andy freckled face scrunching together like a shriveled prune.

"Nope, like right this summer. After all the trouble I've caused lately, this is the only way I can get out of the mess I made." I told him.

"But the fight wasn't your fault. I was there and I can vouch for you."

"It is my fault to him. Thanks, man, but he'd never believe you. Look, I don't want to talk about it. Let's go throw the football around or something to keep my mind off of this. Did you bring the beer like I asked?"

"Dude, the beer is for me and me only. You can't be drinking when you're about to donate a kidney." He killed himself laughing, slapping me on the back as a failed attempt to try to make me laugh along with him.

Giving up beer and the use of my kidney? Great, maybe the surgeon will do me a favor and pull the plug in the operating room and save me from this misery.