I close my eyes and try to think about the events that just happened. I had just crossed the finish line, and I was drinking a ton of water. A ton. Someone put a medal around my neck, probably a finisher’s medal, when the ground shook and a loud boom went off. I saw fire and smoke all around me, I felt my legs burning against the flames. A second boom went and I screamed in pain as another wave of h--- hits me. A few minutes passed. I saw others laying on the ground, helpless, like birds with broken wings. moaning in pain. A medic team lifts me onto a stretcher. I hear the sirens of the ambulance as it rushed through the busy streets of Boston. I saw a team of doctors and nurses rushed me into a room, my parents screamed my name, trying to push through a blockade of doctors. And then I blacked out.

I opened my eyes and looked around the room. My mom and dad were sitting next to me, crying. They saw me wake up and a look of relief comes onto their faces. “Oh, my god, Hazel, are you okay?” My mom asked. I just nodded. They kept asking “Are you okay?” and saying “I love you.” I noticed a strange pain near my knees, and i pulled my blankets down. I gasped and looked at my parents, but they looked away.I looked back at my legs, or what used to be my legs.  My lower-legs, the part from my knees down, are gone. They’ve been replaced by a short stub on each leg, amputated because of the burns. I felt dizzy and lost consciousness again.

When I came to my senses again, I saw the room was empty. There is a new bed next to me, and on it laying a boy.He looked tall and handsome, and I noticed that he’s also missing his legs, except from above the knees. That’s worse than me. He’s watching football on TV, but he notices that I’m awake and he looks at me.
“Hey. I’m Augustus Watery. You can call me Gus,” he says.
“Hazel,” I reply quietly.
“What’s your full name?”
“Hazel Nut Grace,” I answer.
“Nice to meet you, Hazel Nut,” he smiles.
I notice that he looks cute when he smiles.
“Do you want to watch a movie with me?” he asks.
“Me?” I question, looking around for anybody else.
“Sure, why not?” he answers with a grin on his face.
I can’t help but accept his invitation. He’s just too hot to resist. He changes the channel to HBO, and the screens shows the new movie, “The Fault in Our Movie Stars.”
“OMG I LOVE THIS MOVIE!” I squeal.
“Really? I think it’s pretty cheesy,” he argues.
“Shut up,” I reply. “It’s so touching and beautiful it makes me cry.”
“Oh my god,” he groans. “I cannot believe that the person that I am starting to like has an obsession with cheesy romance movies.”
My heart stopped. Did he just say that he’s starting to like me?
“Wait”, I said slowly, “You like me?”
“I don’t know if you know it or not, but you’re beautiful just the way you are.”
Wow, no boy has ever liked me before, even noticed me. Especially not cute boys.
“Um, thanks…” I say quietly.
“Mhm,” he nods with that irresistible smile and looks at the TV screen again.
We watch the rest of the movie in silence, and even Gus cries a few times.

Over the next weeks, we don’t talk much, just exchanging a few “heys” and how’re you doings.” His parents visit often, bringing him food and asking how he’s doing.
“Your parents seem pretty chill,” I comment one day.
“Oh thanks. So do yours.”
“Not even,” I reply. “They’re still all freaked out. Yours seem pretty calm.”
“I guess,” he shrugs.
A moment of silence passes.
“Hey can I have your number?” he suddenly asks.
“Sure I guess,” I say and give it to him.
Almost immediately I receive a text with an image of him trying to make a funny face. I laugh and I make a weird face and send it back to him. All night we keep trying to see who has the craziest look. We laugh and smile and I get his feeling that I feel comfortable with him and that I like him too. After a while, we laugh so hard we get tired and laugh ourselves to sleep.

I feel a little nudge on my shoulder. I groan and open my eyes slowly, and I see my mom standing by my bed with a big smile on her face.
“Hazel, we can go now.” she says.
“What ?” I asked, confused.
“The doctor just approved for you to go home now,” she squeals. “We have a wheelchair for you.”
I look around and see Gus’ bed empty.
“Where’s Gus?” I ask.
“I think his parents took him home in the morning,” she replies.
“Oh.” I wish I had gotten to know him better. He was really nice and funny and good-looking.

The trip home is silent. I can’t stop thinking about Gus. Something about him was just so charming. Weeks pass without any word from Gus, until one day my phone starts ringing. I answer with a groggy hello.
“Hazel Nut,” the caller says.
I remember that voice, that deep yet sweet voice of Augustus Watery. He asks me out to dinner, and I gladly accept. We talk about life and college and all other things.
I can’t remember the rest of that conversation, but that kids, is how I met your father.