2- Pretty Boys

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It didn't take long for the story to get out about what Robby had done. Robbed an antiques store in the next town over with a few of his no-good friends and when the cashier fought back, Robby stabbed him. The man survived but they got the whole thing on tape. Running back here to say goodbye to me only made things worse for Robby.

No matter how many times I showed up at the police station, they would never let me see him or talk to him or even know what was going on. My dad was figuring out the lawyer crap but we don't have that much money and I know that if his case depends on a good lawyer, Robby is doomed.

"Yaz, this is a really bad idea," My friend, Sage, tells me as I stand in front of the hospital door of Gregory Sanchez. My brother's victim. I came to get answers because without having contact with Robby and my dad refusing to talk to him too, that left my only source of information as the news and who knows how distorted their information is?

Mr. Sanchez should have at least some answers. Now that I'm here though, I'm thinking that maybe I don't want to know the truth or not. The older man is lying in the hospital bed, unconscious, and I don't know if he's just sleeping or if it's a coma. Can somebody be comatose from getting stabbed? I see his body inflating and deflating with breaths though, so he's definitely alive. He doesn't look hurt other than his deep slumber—no bruises or cuts on his face or arms and there's no broken bones. I don't see any bandages so I'm wondering where he got stabbed.

"We shouldn't be here," Sage tells me again when I ignore her first request.

"You won't be late for your date," I assure her because I know that she's worried about being late to meeting her boyfriend. They're supposed to hang out at five tonight, after he gets off of work, but it's only two now so we have time. We had to drive to the next town over, where the stabbing occurred, but the drive is only about forty-five minutes.

"That's not what I'm worried about," She defends. "I just don't want you to get even more hurt than you already are."

I turn to her and give her an 'are you kidding' look. "The hashtag RobbyTheRobber is trending on Twitter."

"Only in our town," She adds, nervously spinning her dark brown hair around her fingers. She's definitely dressed to see her boyfriend- a tight mini skirt and a crop top that shows off her completely flat stomach. Sage has a great body and crazy long legs and she knows it and she's definitely not afraid to flaunt it. "And nobody in our town matters. Soon enough, you'll be able to talk to Robby himself and get all of the answers that you need but bothering this man who's obviously been through a lot, it just doesn't seem like it'll help anybody."

I shake my head in disbelief, turning back to look at the man lying motionless in the hospital room that we're standing in front of. In the hallway, looking into the room like two freaks trying to spy on coma patients. "He couldn't have done this."

"What? Robby?"

"Yes, look at that guy," I insist, continuing to stare at the sleeping man. "Robby's a good guy. I know that nobody else thinks so but I know him better than everybody else and I know that he wouldn't do that to anybody. Not unless he deserved it."

"I don't think that he meant to," Sage tries to make me feel better. "I think that he just panicked. It was the adrenaline, he didn't know what he was doing. I know that Robby has a good heart but I also know that he doesn't do well under pressure."

"He wouldn't do this," I say again.

"And what are you going to do?" She asks me, making a very valid point, I know, I just don't want to hear it. "Go in there and just say 'hey, did my brother really stab you?' or are you going to accuse him of being some asshole who deserves to be stabbed in the gut? Because I don't think that either one of those scenarios will end very well at all and I think that you know that too."

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