XV Frank

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For three days, Frank was glued to Hazel's bedside. He slept in the chair next to her, despite the fact that it felt like three blouses smashed together. When visiting hours were over, he'd hide in the bathroom and have the intern cover for him. A funny guy, that intern. He couldn't be two or three years younger than him, and yet he seemed to be more mature than his grandmother. Regardless, the guilt Frank felt was overbearing. He couldn't tell what weighed on him more, the fact that he might have to move to Alaska, or the whole incident in which Hazel collapsed. She had gotten out of bed to console him, but she ended up passing out. Whichever one it was, they both were contributing factors to his overwhelming anxiety. Percy had tried to get him to talk about it, Frank couldn't bring himself to speak. Frank didn't even know him that well. Although, three sentences into his first conversation with Percy, he felt like he was about to spill every secret he had. It was like he had know Percy for years. When Hazel woke up, she looked more alive than Frank had ever seen her. She bounced up and down in her hospital bed, and almost seemed to forget everything from the last couple of days.
" I feel amazing, Frank." She gushed. "I could run a marathon, really, I could-"
Dr. Di Angelo slowed her down. "Which you are not going to do-"
"I have to get out of this bed! I'm so tired of sitting around."
Frank and Percy exchanged a look with the intern. "I mean, I have a sailboat docked about an hour from here. If the doc would let us, I'm sure-" Percy stared.
"You have a cracked rib that's still healing. There's no way you can sail." Dr. Di Angelo said, narrowing his eyes.
"Then I'll steer, Frank can pull the ropes."
Hazel's entire face lit up. "The ocean? I haven't seen the ocean in forever! Oh, please, Nico? Please, please, please!"
Even though he had been coming here for months, this was the first time Frank had heard the interns first name be used.
Nico was hesitant. "It's not up to me."
"But can you cover for us? —Oh! Percy! You can bring Annabeth along!— Please say you'll cover for us?" She rambled like a little kid on the fastest sugar rush of their life
Nico bit his lip. "I'm sure I can distract Will- I mean, Dr. Solace for a bit. You guys have to be quick, though. Be back by seven."
Hazel leapt to her feet with joy. "Oh, thank you!" Hazel said, throwing her arms around him. Frank couldn't help not to feel the slightest twinge of jealousy. They helped Percy to his feet, and the three of them set off for a day trip.

***

As fate would have it, Hazel practically forced Percy to call up Annabeth and offer for her to come along. Percy looked like it had pained him, perhaps because of his ribs, or maybe because of awkwardness of the situation. Hazel held the phone up to him as the drove. From the backseat, Frank compared to someone who had him at gunpoint. Throughout the entire phone call, Frank couldn't help but laugh. When they actually picked up Annabeth, the entire atmosphere of the car changed. Percy was no longer smiling, and Annabeth kept her head down for most of the ride. Hazel, though, was almost entirely oblivious to the whole thing. She and Annabeth chatted about a few new artists in New York that she wanted to check out in Soho, and Annabeth looked genuinely surprised when Hazel asked her about it. At first, Annabeth had appeared to be a conversationalist wreck. The more the two of them talked, the easier words seemed flowed from her mouth. That was the thing about Hazel, she always knew how far to push someone in order to break the ice.
"—I'm not saying he's a bad artist," Annabeth argued, now fully invested in their debate,"I'm saying people need to stop romanticizing Van Gogh eating paint. He was absolutely insane."
"Oh, I completely agree with you there," Hazel shot back, "I just think that the most beautiful forms of art often come from the psychically and mentally tortured. Even though that is sad, it's the truth. They are the ones who see life for what it truly is: unfair. I'm not saying that we shouldn't sacrifice someone's health for the sake of art, I'm just trying to say that they just happen to make beautiful art. Because, their perspectives of the world aren't altered like the privileged."
Annabeth leaned back in her seat, completely dumbstruck. "Huh. I've never thought about it like that."
"If you think about it Hazel," Percy chimed in, "The tortured ones actually have the altered perspective." This was the first time he had spoken since Annabeth got in the car. "They have so much hatred and anger in their life, they can never enjoy the good things. Like.. like flowers. They just remind me of my mom. Now, I hate flowers. Or cookies, for instance. I haven't eaten one in years. We're paranoid and negative, so how do you think it would effect our every day lives?"
Throughout his entire monologue, Percy kept his eyes glued on the road. Everyone started at him, blankly. "That's... also a great point." Annabeth noted.
"Now you can't yell at me for not paying attention to the analysis of 'Catcher in the Rye.'"
"I didn't yell at you, I scolded you for sleeping in class."
"Same thing," Percy shrugged.

Frank smiled to himself as he listened to them bicker. Hazel didn't get into the details, but she claimed they had a huge fight when Percy was first admitted. Frank didn't understand all of the tension until about an hour ago, but all of that had seemed to melt away now.

***

After twenty minutes of stumbling around the marina, Percy eventually came to a slip with a boat that looked roughly around 25 feet.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you: The S.S. Poseidon."

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