binded

zane ; drive

When I get a call from Grace, I'm surprised and happy. But when I hear why she needs me to pick her up from the hospital, my heart drops. How could she have ended up in the hospital, and is she okay?

I'm lucky to see that she is okay and my car remains silent when she gets in. Lately, Grace hasn't been this silent and it confuses me. It takes me a moment to notice that she has curled herself into a little ball and is allowing herself to be emotional. I've never seen this side of Grace, and it's startling.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, driving to find a parking spot. This could be a conversation that needs to happen.

All she does is shake her head no while I pull into the oversized parking garage. My eyes scan the dark area for a temporary spot and I eventually find one on the fifth level. When I shut my car off and unbuckle my seatbelt, I turn to face her again. She's too quiet and I need to help her.

"Talk to me Gracie...what's going on?" I whisper while turning in my seat.

It takes her a few moments to compose herself, taking deep breaths until she pushes her hair out of her face and frowns, "My dad...he's in a coma. He has been for a while and it's all hitting me now. How my mom is putting much more pressure on me than I need...that I don't know how to mentally handle all of this. It's...I don't know." she shakes her head and brings her knees up to her chest, "I said something that I regret...but I also don't. Do you know what I mean?"

Grace has punched me in the face with more information than I was prepared for, so I stare at the gear shift for a while. I need to distract myself for a few seconds before I give her an official answer.

That is why I begin to study each part of the handle, and the leather that conceals wear the actual locations of the gears are. PRNDS. Park, reverse, neutral, drive and sport. I repeat the order in my head and look back up to face her.

"Yeah, I get it." I nod, noticing her expression change to that of relief. She needed some form of reassurance and I've provided that, "Do you want to go do something to get your mind off of all this?"

"Yeah..." she answers, sitting back in my seats, "That would be great."

I know that something Grace would need is just to drive. Not know where we are going and just travel without a worry or care. She plugs her phone into the AUX cord and shuffles through her music. When a Miley Cyrus song comes on, I watch her sing along and giggle. This is the Grace that I know and am falling for.

I recognize the chorus and suddenly 7 Things transforms from a solo to a duet. The way that she seems so invested in every lyric while belting them out is interesting to me. I'm captivated by her seemingly positive attitude despite our previous conversation being about her comatose dad.

Eventually, we come across a clearing on the road where there is no light and I pull over. The car stops and the silence returns.

"How long has he been like this?" I finally ask, hoping that maybe talking about her situation could benefit how she feels about it.

"A month and a half." she answers, her voice cracking as she plays with a bouncy curl of her hair, "It was after a car accident."

Quiet.

"I..." I slowly place a hand on her shoulder and watch her look into my eyes, "I'm sorry about all of this."

A moment like this is one where I feel like I can nearly trust Grace with my secret. Key word, nearly. Because yes she is telling me this critical piece of her life, but mine could affect anything that happens between us in the future. Is that a risk that I want to make? Hell no.

I then realize that I have a compromisable secret. That my parents are divorced and the real reason that we moved to California was to run away from his transphobic behavior. Then I think, I'd have to leave a piece of the story out.

Scratch that plan.

I begin wracking my brain for anything to put her at ease while discussing this. I need something that could comfort her enough that she won't view me differently. Finally, I make my decision.

"If it makes you feel any better, I could kiss you."

Smooth as fuck Zane. Maybe my original plan was to just mention that I had my appendix removed and nearly died. But that doesn't compare. Not in the slightest.

"Excuse me?" she raises an eyebrow, "I just tell you that my dad is in a coma and you want to make out?"
"Make out wasn't the word that I used." I say, feeling my new found confidence grow, "I used the word kiss. There is a difference between those two."

After a while of just staring, I notice a rapid change in her opinion and we eventually find our way into the back seat of my car.