4. Cuck-oo-Crazy Pants.

Logan

*****

Okay, I'm just gonna come out and say it. The girl was Bat-Shit-Crazy, I'm not even going to beat around the bush about her questionable mental health.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I haven't met her kind before because God knows I would be lying if I said I didn't, considering the line of work I was in, but damn, she put all of the other coco-crazy to bed.

I saw her the moment she walked through the doors with Suzy and I remember thinking she was hot. I remember my eyes following the way her long, thick dark hair flowed past her shoulders against her back with every movement she made. I remember thinking you know what? Luke was right.

He'd told me Suzy would be coming with her best friend whom he wanted me to meet. He had told me she was cute and innocent. You know what Luke, my trusted buddy forgot to mention?

The friend was also an escapee from a loony bin.

When she and Suzy walked closer to our table, their hands holding ice-creams and smiles on their faces, basket case was the last thought in my mind. Attractive yeah, that's more like it, but the moment she stared at me with her dark eyes like she couldn't agree on whatever was going on in her head, alarm bells rang in my head.

The biggest mistake I made was to open my big mouth and ask if she was okay. I still think if I would have kept quiet and let her ogle away her thoughts or whatever, we wouldn't have escalated to where things got crazy.

So yeah, from that moment, crazy came out and I was not equipped to deal with it. A lot of shit was already going on with my life and I wasn't in the mood to mix hers with mine.

Alright, so perhaps I should address the thing everybody is wondering about.

Here goes.

Yes, there was a brunette on that field earlier. That brunette moved at a speed of a broken snail and was not ready to pass the ball to anyone as if she was holding gold. And yes, I took the ball from her because I couldn't take it anymore.

Did I force it out of her hands? No. No, I didn't. You guys would never believe how easy it was to take it. The ball was practically falling off of her hands. Did I punch her? Absolutely fucking not. Did I remember it was her the moment she walked to our table? No, I did not. There was no way I would have and here is why.

The girl who was out there on the field was a tired, clad in dirt, barely moving an inch with a dirty messy bun on top of her head like a very bad made birds nest. The one standing furiously in front of me, however, was a different case. This one I would go so much as to say was beautiful. Crazy, but still beautiful. Long lashes that didn't even need mascara to call you to her. Perfect eyebrows, perfect pink, bow-shaped lips, eyes as dark as a night sky, and soft curves on her 5'7, 5'8 height. So, I think it's safe to ask, how the hell would I have known it was her?

I'm not a bad guy, I swear I'm not. Or at least I don't think I am. Whatever, the point is, no matter what, I would never punch a girl. I would also never just give my apologies to anyone who thinks I did something when I know I didn't. That's just not me and her suggesting it was just plain old crazy. I didn't even know her.

Oh, by the way, I know I said I'm not a bad guy and I would never hit a girl and all, but there is another thing I wouldn't do. I wouldn't just stand around and let anybody assault me for no good reason. Girl or not. Period.

She stood there with her blue, ripped boyfriend trousers and a white top as if she could take me head-on. Cute, but I seriously had to resist the urge to scoff in her face. I'd seen the moment she gathered her pretty little hand into a tight fist and let if fly my way. On instinct, I blocked it with my arm.

Apparently, another unintentional mistake from my part.

A small, but definitely a pop sound came from somewhere on her wrist and for a moment I staggered in confusion. I mean, I didn't even block her hard, what the hell kinda bones did she have? the ones made out of Jell-O?

Her eyes widened as if she was confused herself before she took a step back, and brought her hand against her chest and held it there with the other. Slowly, she gritted her teeth as her face morphed into a painful expression. I watched her closely and took a step closer ready to do something, anything if the pop was what I think it was. Apparently, everybody else around the table was wondering the same thing as they all watched her just like I did.

The moment she hissed in pain I was beside her. Suzy though was the first one to freak out with questions as she leapt out of her chair and rushed to her friend.

"Oh my God, Amelia are you okay?"

"It hurts," she hissed between her loud breathes, her hand still clutched at her chest.

"I heard a pop," said Leo.

"We need to get her to a hospital," I said as I tried to assess her hand. Something that wasn't easy to do because, for some reason, between her painful pleas and hissings, she kept on taking steps backward for each step I took. "Let me see."

"No." she shook her head vigorously. I could see she was almost shaking with pain. "Don't touch it, it hurts. Please don't touch."

I understood why she didn't want anybody to touch her. When you break something in any part of your body, you feel like the pain would worsen if somebody else touches the place, but I needed to see. We are humans, we are curious. I'm sure everybody else who by then was standing, ready to provide aid wanted to see just as much.

"Okay, we need to go now," said Luke.

"I'll drive her," I offered. It may have been not my fault the girl decided to punch me with her Jello hand, but I still felt like it was my responsibility to help.

Without wasting any more second, I grabbed her good hand and directed her out of the ice-cream shop and into my black BMW, 8 Series.

None of us said a thing to each other throughout the ride. She sat on the corner of the side of my passenger's seat sulking in pain and occasionally throwing me angry looks while I quietly, but hurriedly drove to the nearest hospital. She was mad and in pain and If I knew girls, the best thing to do in a situation like that was to keep quiet.

"You still didn't apologize," she hissed through her pain.

"And I'm still not going to." I threw her a side glance only to find her glaring at me. "I will, however, help you get help for that hand."

*****

ER. I swear that's the most irritating place on earth.

I don't even know why they call it the emergency room when there is no sense of emergency on any of the doctor's faces.

The guys almost spontaneously parked their cars as soon as I parked mine at the hospital parking and together, we had marched into the emergency room in a hurry where to our surprise, only a single, chubby woman sat behind the desk with huge white letters plastered across the front.

'Reception' the letters read. Problem was, the woman didn't seem at all enthusiastic about receiving anybody. In fact, she looked like the desk she sat on was the last place she wanted to be. She looked up from whatever she was doing on the computer, ran her eyes on each one of us in quick succession, and dipped her head right back.

The five of us cramped around the desk like flies to a spilled sweet while at the same time trying to avoid doing anything that would cause Amelia anymore discomfort than she already was. Let me tell you, that wasn't easy.

"Name?" The woman said without even looking up from her computer.

"Amelia. Amelia Alfred."

Suzy was the one who said her full name since Amelia was too busy trying not to pass out again or maybe just trying not to cry from the pain.

"Problem?"

"We are not sure. We think her wrist is broken." This time it was me who spoke. The woman finally raised her head and looked at me, then to Amelia, then to her hand which was still clutched at her chest, then back to me.

"Have a seat over there. Someone will be with you shortly."

Since then, the five of us had gone through everything that was inside the room. From the Magazines on the small table in front of the hard-yellow chairs we sat on, to reading the motivational patient's speeches on the walls. At some point, we even took turns on the bathroom trips.

Until I couldn't take it anymore and Amelia's hand was getting swollen by the second causing restlessness among all of us.

"Excuse me, is somebody going to help us? She's really in pain," I said as I walked back to the reception desk and stood in front of the woman.

"I'm sure the nurse will be here soon. Have patience for just a little longer."

I was losing it. Fast. And one by one our friends had to go deal with other things in their lives than just sitting in a depress inducing ER room until it was just me, Amelia, and Suzy, who stayed with us for a bit longer, but even she had to go pick up her brother from school.

And then it was just the two of us.

"Amelia?"

"Mmh?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn't know why I felt the need to say what I wanted to say, but the damn word kept on bouncing on my head and at the tip of my tongue until I just had to.

"I'm sorry."