Kismet

Chapter Twenty

  I blink in surprise, the words on my lips beginning to drain away as I realize that it is him, that he finally came to see me.

   "Hey," he says softly, unsmiling.

   "How long have you. . ."

   Ethan smiles slightly. "Not long, don't worry. I'm not a stalker or anything. They just let me in, and I heard you screaming. Bad dream, I assume?"

   I nod, a bit of embarrassment flooding through me as I realize my state. I must look awful. "I didn't know you were coming."

   He doesn't seem to mind how I look, because he shrugs. "I didn't either."

   We sit in silence for a moment. I don't know what to say, and neither does he. I do know what to say, actually, but the words can't seem to come to my mouth. I watch him as he stares at his hands clasped together.

    Without thinking, I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, which I can finally do now that he's sitting. I bury my head in his chest, feeling surprise in him as he stiffens up. Then he finally wraps his arms back around my back, careful to avoid my injury.

   "Thank you," I whisper.

   "For what?" he says. "For hurting you like this?" He scoffs at himself.

   "No, for finding me. For getting my brother back," I tell him, not wanting to look at his face. I keep my head rested against his warm and steady chest instead. "Thank you."

   "But I made you get hurt," Ethan says, sounding agonized. "I let you fall down the ravine, and I wasn't there to help. I went off instead."

  "To save my brother from getting himself killed," I say firmly. "Don't be sorry."

   "But you could've gotten killed," Ethan tells me.

   I smile and shake my head the best I could do. "No I wouldn't, idiot. I'm at least a bit smart, yeah? But it was stupid for me to fall down that hill."

   "No more hills for you, then," Ethan says, and I can imagine him smiling.

   The door suddenly opens, and we both let go of each other quickly. Chris stands in the doorway, making a face. "Ewww. Kiara, do you want to have dinner or no?"

   I don't think I could eat anything. My appitite's completely vanished. "No, thanks. Ethan could have some, if he wants." I collapse onto my side, burying my head into my pillow.  

   "Nah, I better get home," he says, running a hand through his hair. Chris rolls his eyes and steps out of the room. Just before he walks out, Ethan walks back over to me. I tense up as he takes one of my hands with both of his, just as Dad did at the hospital. 

   "Feel better, Kiara," he tells me softly. He pauses, but then lets go. I draw my hand to my side as I watch him walk out of the room, slowly shutting the door. When he touched me, shivers ran down my body. Now cold, I wrap my covers over my body, thinking of our conversation. 

   Thinking of the way I hugged him, and he hugged me back. Twice, actually. If you could before my accident.  I am starting to realize something. 

   I don't want him to leave. I mean, leave me. I want him to be mine, if that makes any sense. I want to hug him all day and call that tall boy my own. But I'm not sure if he wants me to be his.

 Ethan's POV:

I bury my face in my hands, sighing. This was the worst week of my life, as far as "crushes" go. Next to where I pushed my middle school crush into a pile of mud on accident, and she never talked to me again. Only gave me dirty looks.

   Letting your crush fall down a ravine and break a rib was the first. I never even visited her in the hospital, either. I wanted to, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the fear of going in there, or how she would react to me coming. I thought she would purely hate me for what I did. It took all my strength to go to her house that day.

   I knock at their door, and wait a moment. Then Mrs. Barton opens the door, and smiles weakly at me. "Hello, Ethan. Did you come to see Kiara?"

   I nod my head and smile back. "Yes, Mrs. Barton, if that's alright."

   "Of course it is," she says, stepping to the side. I walk in and take my shoes off. "She's upstairs, doing I don't know what. You're free to go."

   I thank her, and make my way up the stairs. Their house is quieter than usual. Nobody probably wants to speak about anything. That's how it was like in mine after my Dad died. Nobody spoke more than two sentences at a time. Our aunts and uncles stayed over for a night, and they didn't utter a word the entire time.

   I ditch the thought and knock on her door. No answer. I slowly peek inside and say, "Kiara?"

   A scream startles me, and I realize that's she's asleep on her bed, thrashing. I quickly shut the door and hurry over to the side of her bed, murmuring quietly and quickly. "Hey, hey, Kiara. Wake up."

   She stops. She slowly opens her eyes, and I lean on the edge of her bed. I watch as she sits up with a jolt, eyes hurrying around the room like she expected something to lash out at her. I only watch as she slowly regains herself, realizing that I was here. She blinks once, as she studies me.

   "Hey," is all I manage to say. 

   A look of suspicion crosses her face. "How long have you. . ."

   I tell her, and we talk for a moment. Just as I'm about to leave, she rushes forward and swings her arm around me. Startled, I slowly wrap my arms around her, cautious of her bruise I was told about by the doctors. My hands find around her lower back instead, holding her tight.

    I could barely hear her as she murmurs an apology, which I assured her wasn't her fault.

   Chris barges in, and Kiara lets go quickly. I didn't want to. I wanted to hold her in my arms forever. But I regretfully retreat and look at the disgusted Chris. The next thing I know is that I'm leaving. I stand to my feet, facing the door. I turn around and take a single step towards her, wrapping her good hand in mine. I stare into her huge misty gray eyes that gave away every emotion she was feeling.

   I wanted to say so much to her then, but I froze up. Instead I came up with a stupid thing of, "Feel better." Angry at myself, I let go of her hands and walk out of her house.

   I thank her Mom again before climbing into my mom's Convertible. I speed down the highway without a glance at her house.