Day 10

"You're nine and feeling fine," said aloud Kyle. He glanced at me over the card. "No designs on the card and crappy poetry. It screams rush job, Renata."

"Excuse me, but unlike you I had schoolwork that needed to be done."

Kyle's thick black brows furrowed for a moment. "What subjects have you been struggling on?" He asked me with genuine concern.

"English," I replied. "I have a creative writing project and as you can see from the birthday cards I made, creativity isn't my gift."

"How many pages does it have to be?"

"Twenty pages," I replied. "And...it's due in two days."

Kyle smirked as he laid the new birthday card on the table near his bed. "It sounds like you're in a bind. Since you've visited me everyday, even when I didn't want a visitor, I'd like to return the favor somehow." He placed a hand over his heart. "So, allow me to write it. Provided you beg first, of course."

"No thanks, I think I'll be just fine." I folded my arms under my chest. "I could just write a story about a pathetic shriveled up boy in a hospital bed and his reason for being there is that he deserved it."

"Wrong, Renata. I didn't sign off on the rights to my life story so you can't write about me!" Kyle shook his head as he looked at me with anger. "You really know how to piss me off sometimes."

"Whoa, piss YOU off." I raised both of my arms at the ceiling. "Nurses and volunteers alike HATE visiting this room. They look at me like I should have idiot stamped on my forehead."

Kyle sighed. "I thought you uncool kids were true individuals that don't care about what other people think."

I let my arms relax and droop into my lap. "I'm a true individual. I'm the youngest volunteer ever at this hospice center. So no, I'm not going to beg and wait!"

"I can't exactly go anywhere..."

"You told me you'd like to make the personal grade I gave you with extra credit, remember?"

"I wasn't being serious."

I sighed and clicked my tongue. "So, you want to have an F?"

"I'm saying I don't care about how people grade me anymore. I'm done with that shit, Renata." Kyle looked tired all of a sudden. As if his brain was working in overdrive. "Then again, you actually believed me when I talked about the extra credit stuff, huh?"

I was getting up to leave when Kyle said, "I'll do it. I'll have a rough draft for you tomorrow. Does the genre matter?"

"As long as it's not X-rated my teacher will accept it."

Kyle said, "Okay then," before I closed the door.