Life Changes, chapter 8

Billie's mom was the only one that showed up. I asked her where he was. She said he didn't want to come. How rude. Not caring about your own stepkid? Made me feel worse.

I was suprised that she wasn't mad at me. I mean, after all, it was my stepdad who shot her son. She was crying into a hankerchief. Mike had his arm around her. Ollie looked even more helpless than Billie had. She really did care about her son. Her youngest. Her baby.

All of his siblings were there. David, Allen, Marcy, Holly, and Anna. I know it sounds weird, but, Anna's my favorite. She's like an older sister to me. I never had a sister. All I had was Izzy. There was a time when they went out together, but, they broke up long ago. They're still friends, though. Even though it does sound cheesy.

Oh yeah, Izzy was there, too. I hadn't seen him in so long. He basically had a restraining order from mom's house after he punched Stan in the face. That was the best day ever. But, since then, it's been living hell not seeing my brother. I clinged to him the whole time Billie was in the E.R. Like I said, I love my brother.

The doctor came out (I found out later his name was Doctor Nick. It creeps me out now. "Hi, everybody!"), and called me, Ollie, and Mike. "The surgery was a success," he said, smiling. My heart lept. Billie was going to be okay! Ollie grinned from ear to ear. She was relieved to finally know her baby was alright. We rushed back and told everybody. There was a huge roar since, well, it was such a large group. People stared.
"Can we see him?" Allen asked. "Sure," Doctore Nick said,"But only three at a time."

David, Allen, and Ollie went first. He was awake, they said. Next were the sisters. Marcy, Holly, and Anna. They loved to mess around with their little brother. Last, it was me, Mike, and Izzy. The friends. We walked into the familiar cold, well-lighted room. Billie lay on the bed. He looked tired. He let out a yelp. Oh, jeez. The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet.

I looked at him worriedly. "I'm kidding," he said smirking, "I'm fine." His face lit up. "Izzy!" he yelled, making a feeble attempt to get up.
"'Sup?" Izzy said calmly.
"That's all you can say?" Billie said, "I'm in a fuckin' hospital for cripe's sake!"
"I'm kidding!" Izzy smiled, "How's it going kiddo?" I looked at him. Kiddo?

Wait. There was something different about him. He seemed a little more mature than when we were kids. He... he had a beard. My brother grew a fucking beard! It was short, though. Not really noticable. "Hey," Billie called, "Nice beard."
"Thanks," Izzy said, scratching his chin. We walked to the side of the bed. Billie looked at me. He grabbed my arm.
"Chass," he said, "Thanks. For staying with me," I smiled.
"No problem," I said.
"Aww," Izzy said playfully.
"Shut the fuck up!" Billie and I yelled in unison. He grabbed a pillow from behind him and threw it at Izzy. It was funnier than that because, well, Billie fell out of the bed. Well, maybe it wasn't that funny because he was in a great deal of pain, but, he laughed, too.

"So," Izzy spoke up after we lifted Billie back onto the mattress, "Can we see your stiches?"
"Izzy!" I yelled, smiling at him. That's Izzy for you. Always speaking his mind.
"Sure," Billie said, laying back the blanket. I gasped. There weren't that many. Maybe three of four. But still, my stepfather did that to him. I started crying again. Damn it, Stan! Why the hell do you always have to ruin my life when it seems so perfect?!

I fell to my knees. I couldn't stop. I tried, believe me, but, none the less I couldn't. The tears flowed out as I gasped for air. Izzy kneeled down next to me and held me. "It's alright, Chass. It's okay," he said, rocking me back and forth.
"No it's not!" I snapped back, still gasping.
"Really, Chassy," Billie said from the bed, "I'm going to be okay."
"I know that," I said, looking up at him, "But, just think. He could've done worse. He could have fucking killed you! But no, you just had to act all brave and try to protect me! What the hell did you do that for, anyway?!" He looked at me, shocked. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. I stopped gasping and looked at him. His eyes said everything.

He loved me.

And he always would.