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I patted the space next to me. “You need sleep too.” I said scared I was being to forward. But the truth is I didn’t want to have to watch my mom’s slow breathing and not have a shoulder to cry on. Or just someone to lean against. I’ve never been so worried and scared before.
Jonathon seemed to see I was being sincere and not clingy. He could read me so well.
“Okay.” He said getting up. He walked around the hospital bed and climbed into our makeshift bed. This was not how I pictured the scene the first time a boy and I were in the same bed.
I managed to finally fall asleep even though I was so worried and then nervous about being so close to Jonathon.
Sometime in the night I awoke.
“Mom, mom, mom.” I repeated in a whisper.
“Shhh,” said Jonathon gently stroking my hair with his cool fingertips. His leg was pressed against mine. Before I could say anything else I was asleep.
When I woke up for real this time, Jonathon was watching me.
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked.
“A little,” he said smiling.
“I must look awful.” I said trying to hide my embarrassment.
“No, you look cute. But there are showers here. You could use one if you’d like.” He said putting a stray piece of hair behind my ear. This moment felt so intimate cuddled in Jonathon’s arms. It felt normal to be in his arms. Like we were meant to be together, made for each other.
But I barely knew Jonathon. How could it be so natural to be together? I’ve never been one to believe in true love. Can you really love someone when you barely know them?
The answer is yes. I am falling in love with Jonathon maybe I already am in love with him. This is all just so new and different.
“Jonathon,” I said. “What happened to your parents?”
He became very still and his eyes narrowed. I worried I had asked something to personal. From the bits and pieces I had been able to piece together, mostly over heard in school, and the way Jonathon acted as if his uncle were his dad, I knew something had happened to his parents. I just didn’t know what.
“They were murdered.” He whispered through gritted teeth.
“I’m so sorry Jonathon.” I said instinctively grabbing his hand.
“Why does everybody say sorry for things that aren’t their fault?”
“I guess it’s just a way to sympathize.” I said studying his fingers. They were cold but I didn’t mind.
“Well then, I appreciate your sympathy but I don’t need it. I got over their deaths a long time ago. The pain never goes away but it has gotten easier.” He looked down at me through thick luscious eye lashes that I wanted to reach up and touch. He really looked like an angel. Maybe that’s what he was. My own personal guardian angel.
There wasn’t anything left for me to say so I kept quiet.
How could he be so timeless about everything? They way he spoke was like someone of another era. Someone of several centuries ago. Even his movements were calculated to fit another society. My thoughts trailed away to a young Jonathon playing with his parents. Then flashed to Jonathon being told his parents had been murdered. Jonathon being sent to live with his uncle.
Then I was snapped back into reality by the sound of my name.
“Kylie.” Jonathon repeated for probably the fifth time.
“Oh . . . sorry. I kind of spaced out.” I said looking down to avoid his intense gaze.
“What were you thinking about?” He asked scrutinizing my face as if it held the key to my thoughts.
“Nothing.” I mumbled not wanting him to know I was thinking about him.
“No, you were thinking about something, your face was so serious.”
I sighed. He wasn’t going to let it go. “I was thinking about you.”
