20. Wednesday.

                                    

                                          
                   
                          
2016/03/02 Wednesday 
                          
I swear to god @HellaBrendon, if you don't stop sending me direct messages I will block you and I will report and this is a public warning so that you can't pretend to be surprised for when it actually happens. 
                          
Today's lessons went on as usual and despite what happened on Monday, Mr Bowie was still going full speed ahead when teaching and only going back for the chemistry I didn't understand and the calculus homework that I didn't finish. He still seemed worried and, occasionally, he'd stop and ask me if I was still keeping up. He didn't yell when I said no. Which was good because I said no a lot. 
                          
I had trouble focusing today – I was nervous for Pete and wondering how the testing was going. I still hadn't gotten The Boy in Striped Pajamas back and I was starting to get anxious about it but I had to keep reminding myself that I trusted Pete and that he was my Best Friend for Life and he wouldn't hurt my baby. 
                          
Meanwhile, rereading Slice of Cherry had become boring so I'd stopped. Instead of reading on Thursdays, I now stared into space and contemplated things that were impossible. Or finding stupid things to keep me busy for hours like creating paradoxes for myself/ 
                          
If everything is possible, is it possible for something to be impossible? I'd usually say it out loud, to myself and then I'd stare at my ceiling and think about it like it would answer my questions. I tried, of course, to get into my chair on my own and I'd gotten in once so far out of the 100 times that I'd tried it. 
                          
Although I didn't mind pondering paradoxes from the comfort of my floor. It wasn't always comfortable but I guess it had a sort of relaxing touch to it, where I could simply relax and try to rationalize one sentence. It made me happier and happier the more I did it and even though I still felt angry or sad about Pete sometimes, paradoxes always made it better. 
                          
My pondering periods were often pierced and interrupted by the awkward moment where I remembered something funny Pete had done or said and I had to stop being serious for a while to just laugh until my stomach hurt. 
                          
I knew that Pete would be busy today, that we wouldn't be able to hang out. But I wanted to text him anyway, I wanted to text him and ask him whether he was doing badly or not. I waited the whole day to scrape up the courage to ask him if he needed me but eventually I didn't have to, because Pete texted me first. 
                          
Come visit me in hospital? They're totally chill about visitors. I was itching to say yes – especially when I knew that Frank would be willing to take me if I asked him nicely enough. I didn't say anything until I'd convinced Frank and he'd helped me into the car. He didn't say anything the whole way and when we got there, Frank stopped the car but he didn't get out. 
                          
Mikey. Tell me the truth. He said. And I thought he might ask me whether I was okay and then I'd say yes and go on with my life. But instead, he surprised me, and he said is Pete your boyfriend? I didn't say anything because I didn't know what he wanted me to tell him. 
                          
Strictly speaking, no. No we weren't boyfriends. The term we'd used was Best Friends for Life. Was that a synonym for boyfriends? Because I wasn't sure whether best friends kissed like we did or cuddled like we did and I don't know if best friends stared at each other and thought they were beautiful. 
                          
No. I said. Because, even if best friends didn't do those things, we weren't best friends. We were Best Friends for Life. And we could define it however we wanted to. We weren't dating, we weren't fucking and sometimes Pete didn't like it when I kissed him. But Frank just gave me a smile. 
                          
He didn't seem very convinced and it bothered me for a moment. Had I done something wrong that was so bad he couldn't believe me anymore? But then I decided that I didn't care. Because people are stupid, especially people who don't believe boys in wheelchairs.