1
1000 Angry Bees
Guest
Original poster
During the walk in the hall his right eye had started to water. That was a good thing. Aaron's mom always told him how it was okay to cry because it helped clean your eyes. And even though he still felt awkward about it, with no one else walking with him--except for Evelyn--Aaron let some of the single tears stream from his right eye. They stung once they slit over the scrape on his cheek but at least it made his eye feel a little better.
Their trip to the nurse's office was quick. A bit of warm soap and water here, some ointment stuff there, and then some ice in a plastic bag wrapped in a paper towel was enough to send them back. Aaron didn't even know the nurse's name but he thanked her anyways.
Talking to grown-ups was never really his thing. It was why he was mostly mumbling to the nurse when she asked what happened. At least she gave both of them a little doggie sticker to cheer them up.
Aaron held the ice over his eye and looked at the ice Evelyn was supposed to be rotating arms with.
"My dad's a doctor," he suddenly said to fill up the silence between them. "He said that sometimes, when people get really really deep cuts, they have to take a needle and some string to sew it up. But they give you a medicine so you don't feel it."
Despite being irked off at Evelyn for not really breaking his fall, when Aaron looked at her he supposed that yelling at her could do more damage than he wanted. He remembers talking to one of the English teachers about it because of a book he read, and how sometimes feelings can give you more than you bargained for.
Nonetheless, his annoyance with Evelyn disappeared once he made sense of the emptiness in his hand.
"Oh no my book!"
He still kept the eye on his eye when he turned around to find his book.
"Shoot. It's probably still on the playground."
Recess was almost over, that was sure, and the trip back to the playground would take too long. He would have to wait until tomorrow to get his book back or, worse, someone could have stolen it.
This is why you always put your name on your things is what his mom always said. Aaron distinctly remembered writing "Aaron M. Messor" on the front cover of his book, so maybe it would turn up in the lost and found.
That though alone gave him a little reassurance. But the panic lingered for two reasons: One, he only got to read a few chapters of it, and Two, his aunt had mailed him that book just a couple of weeks ago. Letting his parents know he had lost it now would mean he's irresponsible, something his parents always hated.
Their trip to the nurse's office was quick. A bit of warm soap and water here, some ointment stuff there, and then some ice in a plastic bag wrapped in a paper towel was enough to send them back. Aaron didn't even know the nurse's name but he thanked her anyways.
Talking to grown-ups was never really his thing. It was why he was mostly mumbling to the nurse when she asked what happened. At least she gave both of them a little doggie sticker to cheer them up.
Aaron held the ice over his eye and looked at the ice Evelyn was supposed to be rotating arms with.
"My dad's a doctor," he suddenly said to fill up the silence between them. "He said that sometimes, when people get really really deep cuts, they have to take a needle and some string to sew it up. But they give you a medicine so you don't feel it."
Despite being irked off at Evelyn for not really breaking his fall, when Aaron looked at her he supposed that yelling at her could do more damage than he wanted. He remembers talking to one of the English teachers about it because of a book he read, and how sometimes feelings can give you more than you bargained for.
Nonetheless, his annoyance with Evelyn disappeared once he made sense of the emptiness in his hand.
"Oh no my book!"
He still kept the eye on his eye when he turned around to find his book.
"Shoot. It's probably still on the playground."
Recess was almost over, that was sure, and the trip back to the playground would take too long. He would have to wait until tomorrow to get his book back or, worse, someone could have stolen it.
This is why you always put your name on your things is what his mom always said. Aaron distinctly remembered writing "Aaron M. Messor" on the front cover of his book, so maybe it would turn up in the lost and found.
That though alone gave him a little reassurance. But the panic lingered for two reasons: One, he only got to read a few chapters of it, and Two, his aunt had mailed him that book just a couple of weeks ago. Letting his parents know he had lost it now would mean he's irresponsible, something his parents always hated.