Between the Days and Nights ✔

Chapter 4: Kent & Lane

"Come on, V," Silas teases, "I know you're awake. Just look at me." I lay still, wondering if I should even breathe.

What the hell is he doing here? What am I doing here?

I feel him poking my cheek, and I flinch a bit. With a sigh, I open my eyes to glare at him, only to find his soft smile and gentle gaze.

"What are you doing here? Why do you keep calling me V?" I pull my hand from his and lift myself up onto my elbows.

"Which do you want me to answer first," he asks, but when I don't answer, he sighs and explains, "I saw you on the ground in the hallway, so I carried you here. And I call you V, because SOMEONE wouldn't tell me her name. So now I have to call you V."

"Why V?"

"V," he responds with a smirk, "for virgin."

I yelp and without control, I slap his arm as hard as I could.

"Ow! Geez, at least I'm not calling you Virgin, just V." He rubs his arm, stifling back a giggle and I narrow my eyes at him. "You should be proud of that name. Not a lot of girls can say the same about themselves." He ruffles my hair, which sends me back to the hangover I temporarily forgot about. I fall back on my pillow with both hands shielding my closed eyes from the bright lights.

"How long have I been here?" I manage to groan.

"It's third period," he answers, glancing at the clock. I jolt up and swing to have my feet on the floor.

"What? I missed two classes already?" I reach my hand up to my forehead, feeling a little out of it. The bell rings.

"Nope. Three."

I want to smack his face, but I felt winded and I don't know how I could take on the rest of the day. Just then, the nurse comes in with a folder.

"Oh, sweetie, you have a high fever, are you alright?" She puts her folder down on the counter and heads over to us. She places the back of her hand on my forehead. "Yeah, still too warm. You had a high fever earlier. I would advise you to go home."

"But my mom's at work. I don't want her to take off to take me home..."

"I could take her home."

Both the nurse and I turn over to look at Silas, who sits with his elbow on the bed, chin in palm.

"I-I don't know about that. It seems ill advised." The nurse straightens up and goes over to the counter to open up the folder.

"Come on, Susan. It's me. You know, I can't go on with my day knowing I left a weak and sick girl sitting in all this fluorescent light." He gestures at the light in the ceiling.

Why are they on a first name basis?

"Well, how about this: if your mother is okay with it," she says as she points at me and then to Silas, "then Mr. Hero here can take you home."

So I call my mom, and as we try to talk it through all the loud machine sounds from the sea of sewing machines she sits in, I turn over to see Silas gazing at me, looking... amazed? Was he just unfamiliar with the concept of bilinguality?

When I hang up, he maintains his expression, so I ask, "What?"

"What language was that?"

"Vietnamese."

"Teach me." He stands up.

"What? Why?" I only learned to read and write Vietnamese from reading the newspapers over the years and writing little notes for my mom.