What's up? :O Maths test! Hafta study. :O English project due!! DX In other words, je suis petite pe busy. Sorry, but I'll try to get Cross My Heart out and WTAT. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry I've been away for a while.
Georgia sat in the waiting room. It wasn't as though she actually had to wait. She just wanted to give Nick space. Okay, she wanted some time to think. Okay, Bryce was in there with a large smile and Rachel. She was out here with an enormous frown and no one.
Nick waking up was great. That was a good thing. They'd been waiting for weeks now. This is what they'd been waiting for. Georgia didn't feel that relief she'd wanted so bad to feel. Why? Because the problem of Nick's coma was replaced by the problem of Bryce's outburst. He was smiling today. Oh yeah, sure, he was fine with what happened yesterday. Eventually Georgia came to the conclusion that Nick shouldn't have ever been in a coma. By now she would've been in New York with her college friends, making little money with her artwork and calling Steph weekly.
But no. Her ex-college fling had to bring him rock climbing and Nick had to fall down. Georgia sighed. She didn't want to sound so selfish, even if it is in her own head. She wanted to jump for joy and call the priest over and marry Nick and Steph herself. She wanted to twirl around and dance. Though her thoughts weighed down her shoulders. She didn't feel weightless, she felt like she should sulk and slump.
Georgia looked through the window. Everyone was laughing. Harriette had probably done something terribly cute again. She was sitting in the crook of Nick's arm with a large smile that showed her front tooth missing. Georgia gave a small smile to herself and stood up to join them. Enough of being an outcast, she thought, Toughen up and get in there.
She gathered her bag and thin, blue cardigan and walked into Nick's room. Nick's hair, now she could clearly see, was shaved and stapled. She grimaced even though she knew Nick wouldn't have felt it and was probably on pain meds. He was holding up a card and Steph was standing up, a thin hand covering her embarrassed smile. She caught the last sentence of their conversation that everyone was laughing at.
Nick pointed to the card, "Steph, it's not our ninth anniversary yet. It's only the seventh," he pointed out in deadpan. Everyone laughed and Steph playfully slapped him on the shoulder.
"Shut up, you know I'm not good at maths," she mock pouted.
"I can count to seven!" Harriette said energetically, putting up an open palm and two fingers. She smiled her toothy grin as everyone laughed again and Steph blushed so hard she might have been purple.
Steph looked up from Nick and saw Georgia standing awkwardly in the door way, her bag and and a blue piece of clothing tangled up in her crossed arms. Her face brightened. "Hey! I haven't seen you, like, since yesterday. I thought I saw you come in, I mean, Harriette's here but you didn't say hi. Nick's been missing you," she said, turning away from Georgia and gazed adoringly at Nick again.
Suddenly everyone in the room's eyes were on her and Georgia felt that awkward-new-kid-feeling all over again. Georgia smiled tightly, glancing at everyone's faces. They all turned back to direct their attention to Nick and Harriette except for Rachel, Bryce and Steven.
Rachel's gaze wavered between sending out daggers and something Georgia couldn't put her finger on. Bryce's eyes lingered on her with furrowed eyebrows, he opened his mouth as if to say something but then he turned around. Steven was probably the best of all. He had this wide smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He even lifted up a hand from his crossed arms and tinkled his fingers in a wave. Georgia smiled back and stepped in to stand next to him.
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We Talked About TomatoesTeen Fiction
Georgia Halliwell is the new girl at Lincoln High. She is shy and quiet - she is a loner. Then Bryce comes along. He introduces her to his childhood friends, friends that Georgia can tell she'll be with for a lifetime. But then Georgia makes a mista...