M.I.A.

Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two:

Mia

It's John's voice that I hear first. He sounds like he's having a one-sided conversation with himself. I listen to his smooth baritone, let it drag me up between dreaming and dead, let him warm me into reality and my body.

His voice. Calm and certain as always.

Ti's voice. High and sobbing. She's crying. Why is she crying?

My breathing, slow, shallow.

My arms and legs, wrapped and warm. Everything is warm and heavy.

I can't move, can't lift my head. I can't open my eyes. Too heavy.

I'm paralyzed! A second later, panic kicks in and I hear frantic beeping. Something in my hand tightens. Another hand, wrapped in mine. And then another one in the other hand.

"Shhhh," I hear John say. His fingers slide through my hair. "It's okay, babe, I got you. I got you." He presses his hand against my cheek.

"Joh—" I cry out, but it's only a squeak.

His fingers press against my lips, his callused skin against the dry and cracked roughness. "Shhh."

I feel desperate, stinging tears leak out of my eyes. I'm paralyzed! I'm broken! Where am I? What's going on?

I sense breath on my face and a moment later, I feel John's lips on mine. It has been so long. So long since I felt that kiss. A kiss that has always sent tingles all the way to the tips of my toes. And still does. Not paralyzed then.

John trails kisses across my face, wipes the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. I calm a little bit, certain it can't all be too bad if he's here.

The person holding my other hand squeezes harder. I try to open my eyes again. The world spins around and my eyes instantly want to shut again. I feel like I have weights on me dragging me into sleep, but I fight against them, struggling for consciousness.

I catch John, swing my attention to the other side and see Ti, tense and anxious. I try to smile for both of them. The two people I love and want to see most, right here with me. I must be in heaven. The weights finally win and I fall back into the void.

***

Some time later, hours or days—when the medicine wears off enough for me to understand that I'm in a hospital, I sit in my hospital bed and watch TV with everyone who is the most important to me. John lies in the bed beside me, Ti sits on the other side, her hand never leaving mine. My parents are sitting on either side of my sister. Dad doesn't have his laptop, Mom's in jeans and a hoodie. Sydney is holding both their hands and grinning like an idiot.

They're watching the news—which is talking about Cutter. I try not to listen, instead trying to distract Ti into a conversation.

"So, what did you tell your mom about the party?" I ask.

She drags her eyes away from the television and gives me a sad smile. I can tell she'd rather not talk about it. There's this awkwardness about us now, a walking on glass and lack of trust. It's going to take a while to get over, but it's not insurmountable. She's here now, being a friend to me now, and that's what matters. I squeeze her hand. "Ti, it's okay." I smile, trying to encourage her. "We're good." I glance at John for emphasis. He's not paying attention, he's looking at the TV.

Ti bites her lip and tears fill her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whimpers.

"You should be," I hear Sydney say.