The Way Back To You

Chapter 2

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I purse my lips and curl my fingers around the chair, clutching on to it so hard my knuckles lose their color. Yvonne looks at me peculiarly, pushing back her hair.

"What's the matter?"

I shake my head, deciding not to tell her about the connection between the boy who saved Ethan from bullies and the boy who's injuries I nursed not half an hour ago.

Instead, I set down the box of popsicles in my hands and wring my fingers down my shirt.

"I'd better go up and make sure Ethan's all right."

Yvonne nods and turns her attention back to her drying nails.

"I suppose the entire thing must have some strain on him," she says, tilting back her head.

"You know...Mom and Dad going on their business trip smack in the middle of summer? Right when they promised a trip to the Hamptons? And then...Ethan getting jumped on at the park, of all places?"

She emphatically waves her hands in the air. I let out a short breath.

"Yes, I'm sure he must be under a lot of stress. But don't pin it on Mom and Dad, they had no control over it."

Yvonne grimaces. I inwardly sigh as I think about her own strained relationship with our parents. It's not exactly their fault they always have to be out at work. Sometimes, Yvonne needs to be reminded the reason they do what they do.

I quickly ascend the stairs, silently slipping into Ethan's room and taking a seat at the foot of his bed.

His back faces the wall and his arms are tucked at his side. Ethan's a sweet kid, completely undeserving of anything those self-righteous bullies were throwing at him earlier.

I gently pat his back and lower my voice. "Anything you want to talk about?"

He shakes his head and inches away from me. I nod in understanding and don't force him to do anything. When he's ready to talk, he'll talk. If he doesn't want to or doesn't feel like it, then there's no use even trying to get a word out of him.

I cross my legs and sit there, being with him in his time of vulnerability. We both stare out the window, letting our thoughts stray and reflecting on that day.

After a few minutes of percolating energy, I decide something.

Tomorrow, first thing, I'm going to track down that Alex character and properly thank him for protecting my little brother, and apologize for all the trouble it got him into.

...

A blaring horn sounds in my right ear and I jump in fright as a truck bears down the road. I hop onto the sidewalk and brush away my strawberry-blonde curls, which have thrown themselves into my line of vision.

Pedestrians pound the length of the street I'm standing on, almost knocking me over and into the walls of the adjacent buildings.

I hate walking to the urgent care center. The corner on which it's situated is so crowded, there's barely any room to raise an arm without smacking someone in the nose.

Sunday's are especially the most hectic, for some reason. And it's not even one of my working days. But Alexander filled out his form in there, and somewhere in the files is his address where I plan to deliver a gift basket with a note.