Around 1 month later- March 28
****
"Ready watch," Easton says hitting me as we watch the boys attempt to play backyard softball, at the softball fields. "And down he goes, onto his butt in the outfield, as Leroy always does trying to catch a pop fly."
"Aren't you supposed to bat in about- 2- batters?"
"Come on! How do you not find this funny?"
"Because i'm not a sadist."
"Exactly what a sadist would say," he says, knowingly.
"You're so stupid."
"Yes, but you're dating me."
"And?"
"Doesn't that make you both sadistic and stupid?"
"That's a fair point. In fact, I think it makes me stupider for schooling to date you. I mean, you're ridiculously goofy looking and you play stickball."
"Lacrosse. It's not called stickball."
"Same damn thing. Anyway, imagine playing lacrosse."
"Imagine having a boyfriend who plays lacrosse," he says.
"Fuck off."
"Wow. So rude."
"That's me" I point to myself giving a smile like a 5 year old.
"Not a compliment."
"I'm my opinion it is."
"Well you're opinion must be fucked up."
"Wow so rude." He rolls his eyes.
"Exactly."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"You don't make sense."
"Now you just sound like my 7 year old sister."
"Whatever."
"So what are you doing tonight?"
"Absolutely nothing. How bout you?"
"Same thing. Parents are gone and so are my sisters."
"Lucky you."
"Yeah. So do you want to come over later and hang out?"
My eyes widen. "A-at your house? A-alone?"
"Claire. It's not. No. Just no."
"I-okay- yeah. Definitely. I just have to talk to Isabelle."
"Okay. Text me if you can, once you get home. Obviously I'll walk home with you, I mean."
"Yeah." He puts his arm around my waist, but just as he does so, my phone rings. Quickly, I pull my phone out of my pocket.
"Oh! It's my doctor," I whisper shout, holding up a finger to my lips.
"Is this Claire Johnson?"
"That it is."
"We just analyzed results from your last test."
"Okay, how'd it go?"
"The results, are actually looking very good. As time goes on, your healthy, new transplanted cells have started to multiply, and the unhealthy ones have starting degrading and become lesser."
"Really?!?"
"Yes, really."
"Wow. Okay." Easton gives me a questioning look, not knowing if it's good to bad news.
"Your next appointment is now scheduled for next Monday, correct."
"Yes! Thank you!"
"Yup, Bye, Claira! Have a nice night!" She hangs up the phone.
"Good news?" he asks.
"Good news," I confirm, and start explaining.
****
72 minutes later
****
"Isabelle?" I ask, hopping down the stairs.
"Yeah, hon?"
"I have a question."
"Okay. Hang on. Before you ask your question, did you call your mom and tell her about results?"
"Yes, I did! Now, question."
"Mmkkk, go on."
"So there's this boy-"
"Oh well it's probably gonna be a no."
"Can I go over to Eastons house?"
"Easton?"
"Easton Castrote."
"Drew bestfriend?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he's my friend."
"What kind of friend?"
"Possibly boyfriend."
"Are his parents home?"
"......no."
"No."
"But Isabelle, please. It's not like we're going to do anything."
"Is anybody at all going to be home?"
".....well........no."
"No."
"Ugh. Fine."
I stomp up to my room. Time for the next plan.
******
4 hours later. 10:03PM.
******
"Where are you going, and why the fuck are you dressed like a hoe?" Someone asks, as I start to sneak out the hallway window.
I turn my head and Jacob is there staring at me.
"First of all, rude of you to call me show because of my outfit."
"You're wearing a short crop top and ass-showing shorts."
"Doesn't mean I'm a hoe."
"Your going to do hoe things, aren't you?"
"Can you stop with the word 'hoe'? I'm not going to do 'hoe' things. Jeez, that word is so derogatory and Iw oils appreciate it if you wouldn't use it to describe me, or anyone else."
"Would you rather me use the word 'whore'?"
"You're such a dick. This is exactly why I broke up with you."
"So you can call me a dick, but I can't call you a hoe or whore."
"Calling me a hoe or whore is saying that I sleep around. I've only done it once, damn it. With you. So you can't say fucking shit about that. Meanwhile, calling you a dick is implying that you are rude, as that is what the derogatory meaning of said word is."
"Whatever you fucking say."
"You're so fucking annoying. Pretty sure it's only bullshit that comes out of your mouth. I guess that makes though, considering you said the word 'i love you' to me, multiple times."
I flip him off, as I'm about to leave, but he grabs my hand.
"You can say all the shit you want about me, but I want to know where you're going."
"Why?"
"Just fucking tell me. Don't be difficult?"
"Why?!?" I raise my voice, but still stay careful not to wake Isabelle up.
"Because we don't need another damn Cooper incident!"
That shocks me into silence. "I-i'm going to E-Easton's."
"Okay." He let's go of my wrist and as I leave, I start to cry, as i've wanted to front eh start fo when I just fought with him. I run my wrist, immense pain from him gripping my hand like that, but I try to brush it off.
Wiping my tears, I slide out of the window and outside over the bushes, making my way to the car.
*****
On my way-C
Okay, see you in a bit, babe.
******