What The End Looks Like | ✓

02: lacey

"If you don't go and ask him for his number, I'm going to go and... I don't know. I'll figure it out, but the point is that you need to go there." Ruth says excitedly over the phone. I hit the speaker button so I can hear her while I take a better look at the wrap the doctors put on my ankle.

"Why would I do that? I have no desire to start a relationship with someone right now." I respond, unraveling the fabric. I was told there wasn't a break; a week and a half on crutches and I'd be good as new.

She groans loudly, "How do you even know it would be a relationship? You would be asking for his number! Plus, you could take him like cookies or something to thank him for saving your life."

"Ruth, you're making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be."

In reality though, it would be nice to thank him and put a name to the face. The paramedics said that if he hadn't given me his oxygen mask there was a chance my airway would have been too damaged for me to breathe.

It's bad idea overall though. There's no point in going when I don't know what I'm going to be doing in six months. There are so many unknown things right now.

"It is a big deal! He pulled you out of a burning building and you're too chicken to go say a simple thank you." She chastises and I roll my eyes.

"You don't want me to say thank you, you want me to ask him for his number."

I don't even flinch when the purple color of my skin greets my eyes once the wrap is off. It looks way worse than it is. Painful, but not unbearable. "So don't ask for his number! Maybe he'll ask for yours?"

As if. I know that I had been stuck in a building breathing in smoke, but it didn't affect my eyesight when it came to seeing the face of the man who carried me out. He was pretty despite all the dirt and grime on his face. Although I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me calling him pretty.

"Maybe."

Ruth sighs, hearing the tone in my voice. "Lacey you've been through hell and back. I thought you were going to tackle life head on and make the most of everything?"

"I have a sprained ankle, I'm sure he'd love to go on a date with a crip." I almost want to laugh because that's one way to describe me.

"Just think about it. Your mom called me yesterday asking how you were because you weren't answering her calls. Don't worry, I didn't tell her about you almost dying in a diner, but she's worried." She warns just as a call from my mom pops up.

"Speak of the devil, she's calling me now. I'll talk to you later?" I ask waiting to hit accept until Ruths says goodbye. It's a rule we have that we never break. It's been that way since we were little.

"Bye Lace, I love you."

I smile hearing her say it, "I love you too. I'll keep you updated on the fireman." I then accept my mom's call before she can provide her opinion on the topic anymore. "Hey Mom, what's up?"

"What's up? Seriously?" She questions and I chuckle lightly.

"At least I answered? I was on the phone with Ruth."

She scoffs, "Yeah, my surrogate daughter who is the only one that can pick up her phone, unlike my real daughter."

"You're over exaggerating Mom. It was one day where I didn't answer the phone." I reply, wincing as I move my ankle the wrong way.

"And how was I supposed to know that something hadn't happened to you? Your father and I were worried!" Mom scolds me and I feel slightly guilty, but there's no reason to make her worry more than she already does.