Don't Wanna Take This Life For Granted

Chapter 3:

Chapter 3:

I wake up and see a nurse writing something on a whiteboard. She walks out leaving me alone in my dark room. I recall everything that had happened yesterday. I smile and can't believe that I had met Keith Urban, my idol, and had a casual conversation with him.

I jump, startled, when I see something move on the couch near my bed. I hear something breathe in deeply. Then it moves around and all of a sudden I hear a loud crash. I jump. My heartbeat rises, I am terrified, what the heck is on my couch.

I hear someone groan, and then I see a shadow of someone standing up. I relax slightly knowing it's a human, but who is it, I wonder. I hear someone mutter a couple curse words, and then move over to my bed. I can see a guy; I can't make out any features besides his muscular build, rubbing the back of his head. He sees me awake and says in a familiar thickly accented voice, "Sorry baby girl. I didn't mean to wake you up."

I say in a soft voice, "You didn't wake me up Keith."

He walks over to the wall and turns on a light, it isn't as bright as the other lights so it doesn't hurt my eyes. He is wearing the same blue jeans and gray shirt as he was yesterday. His hair is a mess, which is adorable! He smiles at me and says, "How do feel sweetheart?"

I answer him, looking into his deep blue eyes, "I'm doing better, still hurts though. Where is Kitty, Mom, and Kitty's mom?"

He runs his hand over his hair, messing it up even more, before saying, "I'm glad you are feeling better, and your mom and friends are at a motel nearby. I told them that I would stay here, so that they can get some sleep."

I nod my head. I keep looking and Keith. He is so cute with his messy hair, and wrinkled shirt and jeans. I start to wonder why he is still here; he has a tour to do.

He smiles and says, "I'm not going to leave you here, not in this condition, especially since you were shot because of me." I realized that I had asked it out loud, and I can't help smiling knowing that he actually cares about me.

I smile at him and then reach for the remote and turn on the TV. I search through the channels then realize that there is nothing on this early in the morning. I look at the clock on the wall beside the TV, it reads, 3:20ish. I turn the TV off, and turn to Keith. He is making his way back to the couch. I wait for him to sit down and lay down before I ask, "Are you going to be going back to sleep?"

He props his head up on the arm of the couch and shakes his head. I smile. His eyes are sparkling in the light as he asks, "How old are you?"

I answer him, "Fifteen."

He nods his head and then asks, "Want to play 20 questions?"

I smile and say, "Sure."

He tells me that he will ask me questions first, and then I can ask him questions.

He starts off my asking, "What is your favorite color?"

"Purple."

"What is your favorite song?"

"Making Memories of Us."

"Who is your favorite artist?"

"You." He grins when I say this.

"When is your birthday?"

"October 26th" He looks at me in disbelief. I shrug my shoulders; it's one of my many reasons for liking Keith.

"What is your favorite movie?"

"Hmmm... How to Lose A Guy In 10 Days."He smirks obviously remembering that his song and music video are on the movie.

"What are your favorite TV shows, I know it's hard to pick just one."

"Castle, Bones, CSI, NCIS, Grimm, Scorpion, and Haven, oh and of course American Idol."

He pauses, probably thinking about some more questions.

He looks me in the eyes and asks, "Where is your dad?" Then realizing that it might sound rude he says, "You don't have to answer if you don't want too."

I look away from him and think to myself how am I going to say this. I start, "Well, about three years ago, my dad was driving home from work. He was about 10 miles away from home, and was calling my mom to tell her when to expect him, they were saying good bye when my mom heard a loud noise, the sound of metal crunching on metal. He had accidentally crossed over the line and...," I pause scared to continue, I don't want to cry in front of Keith, but I feel the need to finish so I continue, "an eighteen-wheeler hit him." I now had tears streaming down my face. I look at Keith, his eyes full of sympathy and pity. I have grown to hate that look.

I look away from Keith and I hear him get up. He walks to my side and grabs my hand; he intertwines his fingers with mine. I turn back to him and give him a sleepy smile. I feel so safe when I'm with Keith. He smiles back down at me, his cute lopsided grin. My eyes feel heavy with sleep now and I fight to keep them open, worried that this may be the last time I see Keith. I lose the battle and fall into a deep sleep. We will have to finish the questions later.