Rupert Jean Franz
I don't how many days have passed. Or maybe it wasn't days, weeks. What if it was months?
I was hated, it's not like I was stupid, I knew this. No one wanted to talk to me, see me. Nothing. I went to school, went home. Woke up, went to school, go home. Same routine.
I feel so dead.
Without.
Jesus...
I wanted her back so badly.
That's when I felt like my phone was alive again. Maybe someone bothered to ask if I didn't die yet. I held the hold button, turning my phone on. A few seconds later, my phone went ding and I read the name.
That wasn't possible.
She hated me.
Colette
We need to talk. There's something big happening and I need to talk to you before I make any decisions. Is there a time when you're willing to call me? Or even text me?
What happened? Is she okay? Is she dead? Is she getting married?!
I didn't care what time it was in France, I dialed her up and waited.
"Hallo?" she sounded groggy, must be late.
"Cole," I breathed, my heart raced. "Cole, baby,"
I don't know, but I think I felt her smile, knowing it was me. I shut my eyes for a moment, imagining her here, with me, her arms around my neck. She was smiling like I was the world to her.
She was silent, maybe in shock.
"Rupert..." she was breathless.
"I'm sorry, I'm bad with math and didn't think it was this late but you needed to ta-," she didn't let me finish.
"Yes, I needed to talk to you about something very important." It was like just this made her more awake, her voice much clearer. Her French accent was stronger now, or maybe I just didn't hear her speak in a while.
"What's going on?" I paused. "Well, you aren't dead, thank God. Are you married? Are in in danger?"
"Are you married?" She tried to hold her laughter. "That's the most ridiculous question! Are you married?" she mocked.
Okay, so, she wasn't... or she's playing with me. I let myself smile as I listened to her breaths.
"Rupert," I loved the way she said my name, almost making it sound royal. "I'm not married..." she paused, making me sweat with anticipation. "I can get cured."
"You mean?" I let my brain think for a moment. "You can... you can paint again?" I couldn't stop myself from jumping off my bed from joy. "What? How?"
"There's this doctor..."
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