Fireworks

57

This feeling feels all too familiar, rushing to the hospital in a panic, not knowing what's going to happen. This time Arlo's physically with me. This time, we aren't together, though, so I can't exactly call this a win.

He parks jerkily and orders, "Don't move." when I start to sit up.

I wordlessly obey and watch as he rushes to the passenger side of the cab. He maneuvers me smoothly into his arms and somehow manages to close and lock the doors without his hands. He hurries to the lobby and carries me right up to the front desk. He explains what happened and we're given a room to wait in, and a doctor wastes no time in coming to stitch me up.

I sit solemnly as the thread and needle weave between my skin. It's pretty gross to think about, so I try to concentrate on anything other than my squirming body and the boy that sits silently beside me, his hand flitting towards mine every few moments.

I stare at the myriad of tattoos on his dark forearm that are accompanied by the sun-lightened hair of his arm and the cheap black watch I know he wears for work so he doesn't ruin the nice one his mom gave him.

How had I met him only a few months ago and still know such intimate details of him? It's not like he was an easily readable person, or one that was eager to share those parts of his life. Was what we had that special? Or was this something that people with summer flings often felt at the end of a chapter? A painful, wistful longing and a cycle of melancholy excuses.

After I've been staring at his arm for so long I feel my eyes start to tear up, the doctor dresses my thigh and says, "Y'all sit tight for a moment, I'll send someone in to get that paperwork filled out."

And now we're alone in the hospital room.

I swallow thickly and close my eyes.

"Hadlee?" he asks softly.

His voice is so beautiful. Why had I never appreciated his voice before? Did it sound better now that I knew I wouldn't hear it again?

He whispers my name again, hesitantly.

I open my eyes, still slightly damp, and say, "Yeah?"

He's staring right at my face, and I inwardly hope that my expression hasn't given me away. "Are you alright?"

I nod. "Yeah, it didn't hurt."

He nods and suddenly clears his throat, looking earnest. "I didn't mean what I said in the car, that was rude. I'm sorry," he says regretfully, eyes catching on a piece of hair that floats down to dangle in front of my temple. "You were just trying to help."

I shrug and keep staring at his face. This may be the last time I'll ever see it at such proximity.

He lets out a breath that ruffles my hair. I didn't realize how close we were sitting until now. He seems to steel himself before he swallows and says, "I need to say this." He pauses, seeming to wait for me to protest, but I don't. I won't get in the way of anything he has to say, especially if it will make him feel any better about what I did to him.

"I'm sorry for how I yelled at you that night you came over. It was uncalled for, and I let my emotions get the best of me. I don't regret telling you any of that stuff about my past or spending time with you this summer. I didn't mean it at all." he starts, eyes boring into mine with the strength of a thousand suns. "You made yourself clear about why we shouldn't be together. And if that's truly what you want," he treads, watching me like a hawk, "then I'll never bring it up again, and you won't have to see me after today."

The thought is enough to make my eyes well up again, but I manage to keep them dry for the sake of my composure. I'm sensing a 'but' coming, and I can't help the way that my hopes start soaring. Is this going where I think it's going?

Arlo keeps on, still measuring my reaction to his words. "But I can't leave without reiterating to you how much you've come to mean to me over the past few months. I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't ask you to at least reconsider your feelings about the situation."

The words send my heart racing and my stomach fluttering.

I open my mouth to respond but he holds up a hand, "You don't have to give an answer now, I know it's not fair of me to-"

I push myself off the hospital cot to narrow the distance between us and latch my lips onto his.

I can feel his startled intake of air against my mouth before he suddenly reciprocates, sliding his arm around my waist and bringing a hand up to cup my cheek. He leans closer and closer until I'm sitting normally on the bed and he's beside me, lips still locked with mine. After a few moments, I can feel him start to smile and I break away.

He looks breathless in the best way, with an achingly handsome smile taking over his features and an seriousness in his eyes that must match my own.

"I made a mistake that night. I can't apologize enough for doubting you, and I want you to know that I've spent every moment since then regretting my choice." I rush to tell him, clutching his hand in my own. "If you still want me at all, I'll spend every spare minute I have trying to make it up to you."

He shakes his head, brushing some hair out of my face. "There's nothing you could do to make me any happier than I am now," he promises. "I know distance is hard, but holiday breaks are longer in college, and I can save up for plane tickets-"

"We don't have to worry about that right now." I insist, relishing the feeling of his hands on me again. "I was being too controlling, let's just let things happen. For now, I just want to spend as much time with you as possible before you have to go."

He's about to say something else when the door is tossed open and my Dad and a nurse walk in. Arlo drops his hand from my face and moves across the room, letting my dad have his freak-out moment. He goes through all the 'how did this happen, why didn't you call me?' type questions before grilling the nurse for information about the wound. As a fellow medical professional, he seems to feel entitled to information other parents wouldn't get.

It's sweet to see him so panicked over me, especially after not having a parent care about my wellbeing for so long. My eyes, however, can't stop straying to the boy leaning against the wall, his eyes alight with a special kind of happiness.