Kissing Booth [BoyxBoy]

12 | тнιnĸιng oυт ℓoυ∂

About fifteen minutes later, a doctor dressed in a white coat approached us. His hands were interlocked and he looked at us with those you-have-cancer eyes. His facial expression was so blank that I automatically assumed he was going to deliver bad news.

"Which one of you is Mr. Patterson's sister?" He asked us.

Amy raised her hand slightly. "I am."

He directed his news towards Amy, but all of us heard it. "He'll be fine," he said and it was only then, he finally smiled.

I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I could finally breathe again. After losing my parents, I was certain that I would lose Scar too, because God was a bastard like that.

"He hit his head pretty hard," he continued, "and we're actually surprised that it hadn't caused that much damage. Although he probably won't remember the events leading up to the accident, he will not suffer through any type of anterograde or retrograde amnesia. He does, unfortunately, have a concussion and will need to take it easy for the next few days."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Can I see him?"

The doctor seemed taken aback by my sudden question. "Are you a family member?"

Amy spoke up, "He's his boyfriend."

The doctor's brows perked up as his mouth fell open. "Oh!" He took one glance towards me. "Um, I guess, yeah, sure."

I shook my head in disbelief as I stood to my full height and placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "No need to get all clammy, doctor. Us faggots are just like you, give or take." I flashed him a quick smile before sauntering off to Scar's assigned hospital room.

The lights were dimmed significantly and he laid in the bed in a perfectly still position with his eyes closed tightly. He looked so cute when he was in such a peaceful state. Still, it angered me that it was my fault that he had to be hooked up to a heart monitor in the first place.

Spotting a plastic chair from the corner of my eye, I grabbed it and dragged it closer to Scar's bed. I couldn't help but smile at him as I took a seat on the chair. "Wow, Patterson," I said, even though he probably couldn't hear me. "You drive me so crazy that I ended up sending you to the hospital. You're such an asshole, you know that right? You had me worrying sick."

"I'm confused as to why I'm so worried about you. I mean, I haven't even known you for a full week. But, I don't know, maybe it's because I feel connected to you. That sounds beyond crazy, I know. I just feel like I know you, even though I don't really know you at all. As a fully functioning American male, all I want is sex. And I think that's what I wanted from you - sex. But now I don't want sex from you. I just want you, and you have no idea how scared that makes me."

"The doctor said that you'll forget some stuff before the accident, and I really hope you do. I don't want you to remember that we got into an argument. I don't want you to remember that you kissed me. You're already dealing with enough shit, and I don't want to make things harder for you. But that kiss made me feel all kinds of things. Things that I don't quite understand yet. I've never felt this way about anyone before, Scar. You make me feel like ... Like I matter."

Scar made a soft disgruntled noise and his eyes flickered open just a few seconds after. He stared at me for a few more moments as his brows drew together. "Who are you?"

My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach. "What? The doctor said that you won't-"

He smiled in amusement. "I'm kidding. God, you should have seen your face."

I narrowed my gaze and shook my head in disbelief. "Asshole."

He continued to smile as he closed his eyes again. "You know you love my assholed-ness," he whispered softy.