Strength |✔️

thirty-two

Neil

As Alisha releases from me, her grey eyes follow mine's, figuring out what I'm actually thinking about. Her outfit is ruined, yes, but somehow it still manages to look good on her. I don't know, it may only be me seeing that since I'm madly in love with her, but she still manages to bring beauty from her pain, daily pain she goes through. Her hair sticks out in every direction, and I actually think and evaluate for once that Alisha cares about me a lot.

"What are you thinking about this time?" Alisha asks teasingly.

I goofily smile. "Nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you." Her face turns red, but then she looks down to the ground in embarrassment. I laugh and she joins in as well.

About moments later, I am released from the hospital. There is still pain near my upper-chest area, but definitely not as bad as before, so I am able to go home now. Alisha holds my hand thinking I can't walk because she thinks I got shot in the leg for some reason, and leads me down to the car. Monika, me and Alisha go into one car while Mom and Dad go in the other. We decide to go home for now and figure out later what we are going to do for Monika's reception. The rest of the guests got a clue that I got shot and the reception was probably not going to happen today, so they all left home while they wait for an e-mail back from my parents, letting them know how the schedule is going to turn out.

Alisha wants to drive, so I sit in the backseat while Monika is shotgun. I grit my teeth as I get into comfortable position, lifting my legs onto the window and resting my head on the car door on the opposite side, groaning. Monika and Alisha both ask me at the same time, "Neil? You okay back there?"

"Yeah," I say grudgingly. "Just trying to get into position, you know." I see Alisha looking worriedly at Monika, but Monika just nods her head at Alisha with reassurance, that everything will be fine. Alisha believes her and starts driving home.

We reach home in a couple of hours. As Dad unloads all of the suitcases and belongings from the car, Alisha takes me inside the house. Me clutching my chest, which has a huge bandage on it, covering my entire chest, Alisha escorts me to my room where I will rest for a couple of hours. I lay on my bed and she hands me a bowl of soup. I see that she has changed into my sweatshirt that says "JV Eagles Football." I remember that it was the same sweatshirt I wore the night I was reassuring Alisha when she was crying in the bathroom. I wonder if Alisha remembers too.

Her hair is put up into a messy bun and as she puts a few of her loose hairs behind her ears, she places a kiss on my forehead and whispers, "I made this for you. Your favorite... tomato soup."

By this point, Alisha knows everything about me. The past couple of months we've been dating, we've gotten too close. Way too close. Sometimes I feel as if she knows more about me than I know about myself. "Thank you," I say hoarsely. She smiles and nods her head. Then, she turns around and starts to walk off, but then I grab her hand and turn her back around. I pull her face to mine and I kiss her, with desperation, with love, with whatever I felt that moment. Even the tomato soup wouldn't have made me feel better than kissing Alisha would have.

She bites her lip as she releases and says, "Neil, get better, okay? And if you need anything I'm right out the door, alright?" I nod her head and this time she actually leaves.

****

I wake up two hours later. Yawning, I trudge to the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water hits against my back, relieving my muscles. Though, I try not to let some of the water hit my chest because that would hurt like hell. Also, I never really knew how the surgery went or what the hell they did to me. All I know is that I feel so much better right now and getting shot in the chest is not a pleasant feeling.