Kelsie

Today was Sunday. I was feeling much better, but also kind of gross and skanky. I got out of bed and my legs actually wobbled under me. I made my way to the shower and turned it on. Mom was at the bathroom door in a minute.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“I can smell myself, Mom.” I put a hand on the wall to steady myself. “I’m just going to take a shower.”

She looked worried. “Are you sure you feel strong enough?” Her blue-gray eyes were nervous.

“I feel great, Mom. I mean, I’m a little weak, but mostly good.” And I did honestly feel good, finally. My head was clear, and I had stopped trying to hack my lungs out of my chest.

“Okay.” She looked worried. “I’ll be right down the hall, and I’ll have my ear out for you if you need, sweetie.”

She left, and I stripped down, then stepped into the good hot water. I hopped back out after a second to grab a toothbrush. My body felt weirdly weak, and my stomach was caved in. As soon as I smelled the mint of the toothpaste, my stomach started to rumble. I was hungry! That had to be a good sign.

I put on a comfy pair of yoga pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. I combed my hair back and put on some lip-gloss. Then I took a look in the mirror. I looked like a pale, hollow-cheeked version of myself with dark circles under my eyes and pale lips, shiny from my raspberry lip-gloss.

I ventured out to the kitchen and was greeted by Thorsten’s bear hug. “Brenna! It’s so good to see you up!”

“Fa,” I squeaked, my voice crushed by his arms. “I’m glad to be up too.”

“You look hungry. Come have an apple tart with me.” He pointed to the distinct box.

“Zinga’s?” I tried to keep my voice casual.

“Jake brought them over on Friday.” Thorsten grinned. “I think he was trying to sneak in to see you. But you know Mom. She told him that you weren’t having any visitors. Then she gave him the ‘laser eyes.’”

I groaned. “No she didn’t.” That was what Thorsten and I called Mom’s angry stare, the one that cowed rowdy students and made grown men shake in their boots.

He chuckled. “You know she did. It’s okay, Brenna. He’s a big boy. He can deal with it. Do you want some tea?”

“That would be nice, Fa.” I sat down to eat my tart and wound up wolfing it down so fast I nearly choked. So, Jake had come to see me. I wondered if he mentioned the visit to Nikki.

Just then the doorbell rang. Thorsten looked up, surprised, but it was Mom who shot past like a bullet and answered it.

“Thank you, Saxon.” I could see her reach for something through the four inches she’d opened the door before she tried to slam it in his face. “She’s not up for visiting yet.”

“Mom!” I called in a panic. I couldn’t imagine the entire day lying in bed alone again. I was starved for conversation, a friendly face. I couldn’t stand that Saxon was on the other side of the door, and I might not see him. “I’m up. Please, can he come in? I feel really good!”

Mom peeked at me from her post by the front door and pursed her lips uncertainly.

“Please?” I begged. “I’ll get back in bed. I won’t exert myself. Please?”

“Alright,” Mom said, but she didn’t look happy. Saxon followed her in, a pile of books in his hands. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him carry even one book. He looked like a wild animal that someone let in the house because it promised it would be on its best behavior.

“Maybe I could make Brenna a tray of food so she can eat while she relaxes,” Saxon offered, his face angelic.

Mom clucked her tongue appreciatively and walked me to bed, calling orders over her shoulder to Thorsten. She got my pillows arranged so I could sit up and smoothed my covers. I asked if she would open my curtains and crack the window, and she did that, too.

“Tell Saxon to close the window if you get too cold,” she fussed. “And he can’t stay long, honey. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I know, Mom. But I feel really good. I promise.”

“Yeah, well you thought you felt good enough to go to school this week and you were practically dying of pneumonia.” Mom crossed her arms. “I don’t know if I can trust you to make your own decisions anymore.”

I didn’t roll my eyes at her, but it took a real effort. Then I saw Saxon come in with a breakfast-in-bed tray that we’d only ever used for Mother’s Day. Mom gave one last worried look and left.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Saxon asked quietly as he set the tray down over my legs. He put a napkin over my lap and pulled my desk chair next to my bed so he could sit near me.

“I’m recovering from pneumonia.” I took a sip of sweet, milky tea.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about. Why would you have kept going to school when you were so sick? Why wouldn’t you go to the nurse? Are you an idiot?” He reached out and took my cup of hot tea when he noticed me wriggling to get into a better position to eat.

“I don’t know, Saxon.” I took a big, hungry bite of my second tart. “I just felt crazy. I was sick, so I guess I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

His mouth was pressed in a tight line.

“What? Geez, between you and my mother, I’m going to die of guilt before the fluid in my lungs does me in.” I ducked my head to see his face, and he looked up, defeat in his expression.

“That was crazy, Bren. Like big-time crazy, going to school like that,” he said lowly. Like he was admitting something.

“Okay?” I pushed the food away. “What are you getting at, Saxon? Just spit it out.”

“I’m saying that you weren’t going in everyday so you could keep up in government. And you weren’t going to see me, much as it hurts my ego to say it.” He got up and fiddled with my things, opening drawers and poking through my underwear, flipping up jewelry box lids, pawing through books, and it was just to use up nervous energy.

I knew where he was going, but I wanted him to come out and say it. Both because my saying it would illuminate my desperation (and I had been feeling pathetic enough lately) and because if he said it, it meant he was worried about it. And if he was worried about it, it meant there was a chance it might all work out.

Which would hurt Saxon deep down even though we’d agreed to just be friends. My heart ached.

“What do you think I was going in for?” I blew on my hot tea, keeping my eyes on the gently rippling liquid.

He fished his fingers in a small glass bowl on my bookshelf and held Jake’s gold posey ring looped loosely around the tip of his index finger.

“I promised I’d fix it for you when we got back.” He leaned on my desk with one hip and threw the ring up in the air. He caught it with a quick flash of his hand, then did it again.

“I told you that was a stupid idea.” My heart dropped like an iron weight in my stomach. “I know you got him to drive me home from the Folly concert, but we’re just friends. He’s with Nikki now. I can respect what he wants.”

Saxon stopped fidgeting completely and the room suddenly felt too still. “When we were first back, and you called and came to my house. I thought we might end up together, even though I knew it was a long shot. And even though it was kind of a disaster, and has pretty much been a disaster every time I got together with you, I kept holding out hope that it would work. The other night, when we went out for sushi, and we were at your house, before, I knew that whatever pull he has on you, it’s his thing. I don’t have that. I can’t make you feel that way about me.” His eyes were completely black and flat. They looked resigned.

“You’ve been amazing. I really care about you. I’ve loved spending time with you, Saxon, and don’t be pissed when I tell you that I’ve loved being your friend. I feel like I know myself better now, since I’ve been with you.” I glanced up, but his eyes were too dark and pained to look into. I wanted him to know how much he meant to me, but I realized there was still just one thing he wanted to hear. And it broke my heart that there was no way I could say it. There was no way I could lie to him or myself anymore. “I’ve loved every minute of being with you.”