🅸🆂🅰🅱🅴🅻🅻🅰
"I don't wanna do this, I don't even know him! Can't we go home again?"
I pull on Judy's arm, forcing her down the bright hallway.
"You broke his knee so the least you can do is apologize. Did your parents not teach you any manners?"
My eyes glide over the colorful plastic numbers glued to the doors, trying to find the right room.
"My dad taught me how to gut fish. I'm not sure about manners though."
I ignore her joke.
"And that is why we're in the children's ward now, bringing gift shop chocolate to a 14 year old boy. Because you, with your lack of manners, got drunk-"
"I know! Don't start again," Judy groans while rolling her eyes.
"I'll say sorry and then we can leave, right?"
Without answering her I keep strutting.
One, because I'm still mad at her and the way she is whining right now.
And second, because I hate hospitals.
