by M. H. Soars
Despite all that, I can’t bear to return home before I’m certain Owen will be okay. Dad didn’t question my motives, so together we wait in a hospital in San Diego for Owen’s surgery outcome. Mom wanted to meet us here, but I begged her not to. I couldn’t deal with her distress on top of everything else.
The sliding doors open and in comes a very pregnant, frantic-looking woman. She must be Owen’s mother. Mr. Whitfield sees her and stands up, meeting her in the middle of the corridor. They hug briefly before she steps back. “How is he?”
“No word yet. Doctor said his wound was superficial, not life threatening.”
She snivels and wipes her red nose with a tissue. Then she looks my way, and her distressed gaze turns into rage. She strides in my direction, fire spitting from her eyes. I want to curl into a tiny ball and disappear.
“You! This is all your fault. If you hadn’t dragged my son into your mess, none of this would have happened.”
Dad stands up and moves in front of me. “Mrs. Whitfield, I understand your distress. But this is not my daughter’s fault. She didn’t force your son to do anything.”
Mr. Whitfield wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulder and drags her to the other side of the waiting room. Dad sits next to me again. “Don’t mind her, pumpkin. She’s upset. She didn’t mean any of it.”
“She’s right, Dad. I dragged Owen into this mess.”
I hate the tears that are threatening to escape my eyes. Dad pulls me into a side hug and pats my head. “You care about that boy, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you in love with him?”
I don’t answer him. I can’t. If I say the truth out loud, I’ll never be able to take it back.
“It’s okay if you do, honey.”
“You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand? A boy and a girl falling in love is not rocket science, Kimmy. Don’t make it more complicated than it has to be. Embrace the feeling, live in the moment.”
I chuckle at Dad’s statement despite everything. He’s a hopeless romantic and a poor philosopher. His words take root in my brain, though. Would it be so bad to take the plunge and free fall into the unknown? I didn’t think twice about jumping head first into a dangerous investigation. Why am I so scared of giving my feelings a chance?
The doctor comes out before I can reach a conclusion. I bolt out of my seat, but remain on the fringe while the doctor updates Owen’s parents. The surgery was a success and he has already been moved to his room. My shoulders sag in relief and a rogue tear rolls down my cheek. It will take a while for Owen to wake up from the anesthesia, but his parents can go in. When I think my misery is finally over, Leah bursts through the sliding doors in flurry of drama. She launches herself at Mrs. Whitfield who hugs her affectionately.
Owen’s bitchy ex is crying senselessly and one would think the worst had happened. Mrs. Whitfield asks her to come with them to see Owen, then throws me a last death glare. I hear your message loud and clear, lady. Leah is the girl for Owen, not me. I turn to Dad and say I’m ready to go home.
* * *
Owen
My eyelids feel heavy and to open them is an effort. It’s like they’ve been glued shut. I hear voices in the background. They sound very far away at first, until my hearing sharpens and I recognize my parents’ distinct tones. My head seems to be filled with cotton candy and my mouth is as dry as sawdust.
“Mom?” I say softly.
“Oh, honey. You’re awake.” A hand is pressed against my forehead, followed by a kiss.
I finally manage to open my eyes, and it takes a second for my vision to sharpen. Mom is sitting by my side next to the bed, and Dad is standing right behind her. My eyes keep wandering the room, and by the foot of the bed, I see Leah clutching a tissue, her eyes puffy and red.
My gaze travels past her, still searching. “Where’s Kimmy?”
Mom makes a disapproving sound so I glance in her direction. “What is it, Mom?”
“Kimberly went home with her father,” Dad answers instead. “She waited the whole time with us while you were in surgery.”
So why didn’t she stay a little longer? I want to ask, but the question dies in my throat.
“Leah is here, sweetie.” Mom pats my arm.
Hearing her name, she takes a few tentative steps around the other side of the bed. She looks pitiful. My parents move to give us some privacy. She grasps my hand, and new tears form in her eyes. “Oh, Owen. I came as soon as I heard. I can’t believe I almost lost you.”
My mind might not be as sharp as normal, but I’m pretty sure we broke up before my trip to Mexico. I keep staring at Leah without saying a word of encouragement. But she’s determined to keep talking regardless.
“I wish you told me what was going on. I would have helped you. I feel terrible for the way things ended with us.”
“It’s okay. As you can see, I’m fine.”
She raises my hand to her lips and kisses my knuckles. “We’ll make it work this time. I promise.”
Oh crap. That’s what this whole speech was leading up to? I should have guessed. Does Leah seriously think I’m going to get back together with her? And talk about picking a helluva of a time to force herself back into my life. It wasn’t like we ever said the L word to each other before. A vague memory springs into my mind. I think I might have said I loved Kimmy before I passed out. Shit. No wonder she bailed as soon as she could.
I pull my hand from Leah’s hold. “You have to leave.”
She jerks her head back, like I just slapped her. “Excuse me?”
“We’re not getting back together. Not now, not ever.”
“You don’t mean that. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Oh, my mind is as sharp as an arrow. I don’t love you, never had. We had fun, but now it’s time we go our separate ways.”
“Are you seriously breaking up with me?”
“You’re forgetting something crucial. We’re already broken up.”
Her eyes flash with anger and I see a storm of terrible words coming my way. The fact that I just came out of surgery doesn’t seem to factor into her selfish brain. My eyes fly to Dad’s, pleading him to help me.
“Leah, honey. Thanks for coming. Owen needs to rest now.” He takes her by the elbow and leads her away from me. Only when the door closes on her face can I exhale in relief. What were my parents thinking letting her in?
“Owen, I had no idea you two had broken up. If I knew, I wouldn’t have invited her in,” Mom says.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m glad I clarified things with her.”
“I have to tell you, honey. You have the worst taste in women.”
Mom’s comment plants a seed of suspicion in my mind. She never liked any of my girlfriends in the past and I have a feeling she might have scared Kimberly away.
“Mom. Did you say anything to Kimmy?”
“I most certainly did. She put you in danger, sweetie. I had to give her a piece of my mind.”
“Mom! She didn’t put me in danger.” I wince when I move suddenly, the bandage on my shoulder reminding me of what I went through. “What happened to Alex?”
“He was arrested,” Dad says.
Mom tsks and shakes her head. “What a waste. Such a clever boy.”
I’m glad Alex is locked behind bars. I would be afraid for Kimberly’s life if he was still on the loose. I tell my parents that I’m tired and they leave the room. Before exhaustion takes me under, there’s only one thought in my mind, Kimberly.
Chapter 30
Saturday, September 23rd, 2006
Kimberly
It seems like a million years ago since the evening of the homecoming dance. I skipped school the Monday after of our ordeal only because my parents insisted I stay home. I hated every second of
it. I felt like a trapped bird, smothered by my mother’s excessive care. Venturing outside for a breath of fresh air was also impossible. I had become a local celebrity and a few TV stations had sent their crew to camp outside of our house. They all wanted an exclusive scoop, and my father repeating over the phone countless times that I didn’t want to talk to the press wasn’t enough. Once upon a time, my dream was to be a news reporter. But I was seriously reconsidering my future choice of career.
I know some people would be basking in the glory, but I didn’t pursue Alex’s investigation so I could become famous. All I ever wanted was to help Lorenzo. I can’t wait for my fifteen minutes to be over already.
I went back to school on Tuesday, and I was amazed how things could change in the blink of an eye. The former glares I was so used to getting had turned into looks of admiration. People I’d never spoken to in my entire life were eager to talk to me, to practically demand all the grisly details about my ordeal at the hands of Alex.
Still, there were some who eyed me with suspicion. They were obviously having a hard time believing that the school’s golden boy was actually a villain, a cold hearted psychopath. I couldn’t fault them for that. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you’ve been idolizing a monster for most of your high school career.
Ross was one of the first to seek me out. He apologized profusely for not believing in me. I was actually buying into his whole spiel, right before he showed his hand. He didn’t care one ounce about me, he only wanted to score an interview for the paper. I told him to fuck himself. I wasn’t giving anyone an interview. Instead, I planned to write the story myself in the form of a long article.
But I couldn’t do it yet. Not before resolving what I planned to do about Owen. My feelings for him hadn’t diminished in the week since I last saw him. If anything, they might have grown. He was always on my mind. I knew he had been released from the hospital already and part of me wanted to go see him. But I couldn’t face Owen in this state of confusion. He probably thought I was the worst person in the world. He took a bullet for me and that’s how I repaid him, with complete radio silence.
This whole deal with Owen put me in a funk and not even learning about Lorenzo’s release lifted my spirits. My parents noticed my gloominess and they tried to cheer me up to the best of their abilities. But only I can help myself. I have to make a decision and live with it.
It’s Saturday already and I’m expected at Larissa’s place for Lorenzo’s free jail card celebration. I wish I didn’t have to go, but Larissa made a big deal about my presence being required. I’m the guest of honor, apparently. She actually wanted to invite Owen too, but she couldn’t get past Mrs. Whitfield’s protective barrier. It does feel wrong for me to be there without him.
It’s quite early in the morning and my parents and siblings are still asleep. The news crews have finally left us alone, so there’s nothing keeping me from escaping for a little while. I need to do something otherwise I will go insane. I change into my running clothes and shoes, and sneak out of the house, leaving a note for my parents on the fridge. Jogging has always made me see things more clearly. I need clarity, desperately.
* * *
Owen
A week. I was bound to my bed for a week. The doctor had been clear, I had to rest and let my wound heal properly or I could say goodbye to sports. So I had no choice but to heed to his words, but I sulked the entire time. Mom said I was the worst patient ever.
Things could be worse, I supposed. I could be dead, for starters. I was also lucky that the bullet pierced my left shoulder, not my right one. I could still sketch in bed, and that helped with the boredom. However, I only seemed to be able to sketch one thing over and over again. A heroine with long blonde hair and ice blue eyes that bore an uncanny resemblance to Kimberly. Yes, that’s what staying cooped up in my room for so long did to my mind. Without any other distractions, I couldn’t stop obsessing about the girl I’d tried to protect with my life. A girl who had not contacted me, not even to see if I was okay. She had simply vanished after I said I loved her, leaving me out in the cold. Finally, she had earned her nickname, Ice Queen.
My stitches were removed on Friday, and my parents took me to my favorite pizza joint to celebrate. It turned out that our waiter was a good friend of Lorenzo and so I learned that he had been released. Chico—that was our waiter’s name—invited me to come to Lorenzo’s party the next day. Mom made a face on the spot, but I was seriously considering going. If anything, just to see Kimberly and finally have the closure to whatever we’d had. It was clearly over. Was I bitter? Fuck, yeah.
Saturday morning, I woke up earlier than usual. I needed to get out of the house before my parents were up and Mom started to fuss all over me. I can’t wait for my baby sister to arrive and share the load. I love my mother but she’s one hundred percent a Helicopter Mom.
The air is cool and crisp, the first signs of Autumn are finally here. The doctor said I could go back to moderate exercising, so I veer to the park nearby for a light jog. As I hit the pavement, I feel every joint in my body protest at the exertion. God, it feels like I’ve never worked out in my life. I can’t believe my body has deteriorated so fast. I need to get my ass back into shape. I don’t like to feel this weak.
Hudson’s park sits by the lake, the running path going all around it. There are already a few brave souls out there, breaking a sweat. The run here has winded me, so I slow my pace to walking. I love to come here, the serenity of the lake always puts my mind at ease. I’ve done my best sketches sprawled on the green grass, under one of the many trees scattered around.
An older couple runs by me, and the guy tells me that my shoelace is undone. I thank him and bend down to tie it again. When I stand up, Kimberly is standing in front of me. Her face is flushed and perspiration has gathered on her hairline. But she looks as beautiful as ever and my traitorous heart stutters in my chest.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi.”
“How have you been?”
“Frigging fantastic. You?”
She grimaces at my sarcastic response. Her gaze lowers to the ground and her arms wrap around her middle. She looks at me again through her thick eyelashes and I grind my jaw. I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose, but I can’t help my body’s reaction to her.
“I’ve been awful,” she finally says.
“Oh, sorry to hear that.” I try to keep my voice cold, but something in her gaze is already putting a chink in my armor.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers and my stomach clenches tightly. Here it comes, the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. And quite frantically, I don’t want to deal with this bullshit right now.
“Don’t worry, honey. I bounce off quickly. Now if you excuse me, I’ve got places to be.”
I take one step to the side with every intention to walk around her when she places a hand on my chest. “Owen, wait.”
I curl my hands into fists. It’s the only thing I can do to control the impulse to attack her mouth. I narrow my eyes, but when my hard gaze collides with her bright eyes, the tightness in my stomach uncoils. Why is she on the verge of crying? I’m the one who’s a mess here.
“What do you want, Kimberly? To spell it out for me? I know that you think that night in Mexico was a mistake. I know you freaked out because I said I lo—”
“Owen, for the love of God. Shut up!” Her blue eyes flash with fire and I bite my tongue.
“I do not regret our night together. Yes, I freaked out, but not because you said you loved me. I freaked out because you jumped in front of a bullet for me. I freaked out because you ignited a fire in me I didn’t know I possessed. You made me want things I never knew were missing in my life.” She pauses and places a hand on my cheek. “I freaked out because I fell in love with you and I was too chicken to admit it, even to myself. I’m sorry I didn’t come see you.”
My jaw drops and I can’t form any words. My brain is stuck on the part where she said she fell in love with me.
“Owen, say something.”
“Words are overrated.” I pull her to me for the kiss I’ve been craving since the last time I saw her. She melts in my arms as I feast on her lips like they’re made of candy. Hum, Ice Queen and candy. I think I may have found a new nickname for the girl who has stolen my heart irrevocably. I wonder if Kimberly will mind if I start calling her Milkshake.
Epilogue
Thursday, December 18th, 2015
Kimberly
I step foot into the big atrium and I can’t believe I’m actually here. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of freshly popped, butter loaded popcorn smell that’s in the air. I haven’t been this excited since I walked down the aisle to marry the love of my life. This is not an exaggeration. Owen and I haven’t been on a real date in ages, not since Grace was born. I love my little angel, but I need time alone with my hubby. Well, as alone as one can be at the premiere night of a new Stars Wars movie.
Owen has gone to brave the mob and get us popcorn and sodas. He’s beyond psyched he gets to see the movie before any of our friends. As a freelance graphic artist for DC Comics, he always gets premiere tickets to the big blockbusters.
I’m not as crazy a fan of the franchise as Owen, but one thing can’t be denied. Only Stars Wars can cause this level of excitement across all age groups. From excited little kids to folks as old as my great-grandparents. All joined together by their love of George Lucas’s creation.
Owen returns, his arm loaded with heavenly goodies, and I make a grab for the popcorn bucket. Owen moves out of my reach. “Nu-uh. Payment first.”
I shake my head before I get on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. It was meant to only be a peck, but as it always happens with the two us, our innocent kisses never stay innocent for long. After a minute of serious make out, I step away, my cheeks flushed with heat.
“You’re lucky I love Star Wars so much. Otherwise we would be out of here and checking in at the Motel 8 across the street faster than you can blink.”