Revival

12. Give an Inch

~~Give an Inch~~

Stella stared up at the roof of Jesse's car for a while after she finally came to. The low rumbling of the car as it slowly pulled up against a sidewalk made her head throb and spin. When it stopped and the car was still, Stella could hear Jesse's exhale and the sound of his seat as he adjusted over SZA's Love galore that played softly from his radio. Somewhere in the back of Stella's mind, which was starting to grapple onto reality thought that the lyrics were particularly fitting for this moment.

As strength started to return to her aching muscles, she managed to croak out a moan and shifted in the backseat where she lay, and then moments later, Jesse was there, blocking the sunlight from the windshield. He no longer looked like he was soaked in lake water, now that the sun had partly dried his skin and clothes. His dark eyes were polished and shone a startling shade of brown in the sun, like tawny.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed when he saw she was awake, "I was starting to wonder how I was going to explain this to your parents."

Stella said nothing. She wrenched herself upright directly in front of the backdoor window and she almost immediately recognized the street she lived on. "Stella?" Jesse called out. She looked at him, and while his expression was clear, she could hear the slight edge of nerves in his voice. He was worried, or nervous, Stella realized. Good, she thought angrily, "Are you alright?"

Stella ignored him. As her memory of the last hour came back to her, her chest began to swell with hot unfurling anger like she was being pumped full of hot air. She made an indignant noise, before sliding across the back seat to pull open the door onto the sidewalk. She hopped out, landing on the street with a wobble, but she righted herself easily. She looked down at her semi-dried uniform in dismay. It felt like it weighed a ton on her quaking, narrow frame. She imagined peeling off her shirt with quaking irritation and was desperate for a hot shower. She'd be worried about getting a cold after being dumped in freezing, cold water twice in a week if she ever got sick.

She started down the pathway toward the entrance to her building and reached up to touch her forehead as she looked up at the brownstone, remembering blood and stinging pain and was surprised to feel nothing but warm skin there.

She could hear Jesse's silent footsteps in her ear and was aware of him following closely behind. She gritted her teeth and tried to contain her anger as she reached for her bag that was supposed to be on her back to get her keys, but her rucksack was gone.

"You left your bag in my truck." Stella turned around in the middle of the pathway to see him holding her bag by its strap in front of her. She took it from him slowly. He was looking at her carefully like he was tiptoeing around a bomb. His locks were packed behind him so she could see his face better. His cheekbones seemed sharper, and she could see how his jaw worked anxiously, as his dark eyes searched her expression. Somehow his tentativeness only made her feel like she was about to explode. And take Jesse with her.

Without another word, she turned around with her bag and fished her keys out of the side pocket, and let them into the building, pushing open the front door into the small, empty lobby. Cool air crept under her wet clothes and prickled her skin with goosebumps like a million tiny needles. She almost shivered.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?"

As soon as the door shut behind Jesse, she whirled on him furiously. "You almost killed me!" She hissed, her eyes burning holes into the side of his head.

"You are angry," Jesse said widening his eyes when he measured the true depth of her fury. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, his gaze hardening, "At worst, you got another concussion. And you're fine now. Relax," he said in a bored voice, making Stella tighten her fists.