Stage Kissed

  “Time to check your blood pressure again,” the nurse whispers, rousing me from sleep. The sun is peeking through the blinds, but just barely. It must be early, since my parents aren’t in the room.

  I let out a yawn and a groan, trying not to move too much because I’m sore all over and Kate’s still dozing on my unbroken arm. How she can sleep through all of this, I have no idea. I’m going to have to ask her what her secret is.

  The nurse seems satisfied with whatever my blood pressure is and leaves us alone in the room again. I turn my neck, my nose almost touching Kate’s now. Her mouth isn’t open anymore. It’s all pressed tight and her forehead is scrunched. Even in her sleep, she seems preoccupied with something.

  Stretching my good arm up, dragging the IV line with me, I pull my thumb over all the cracks across her forehead.

  This, of all things, makes her eyes pop open.

  “Hi,” I whisper, hoping she doesn’t leap away from our proximity.

  “Hi.” She blinks her eyes several times, then yawns and stretches, whacking me in the nose. “Whoops! Sorry.”

  We laugh, and she stays pressed against my side, and it turns my laugh into this real goofy “yuck-ity, yuck, yuck.” Then she gives my side a gentle squeeze, and that embarrassing chuckle morphs into a pained grunt.

  “Oh my gosh!” she says, yanking her arm off my torso. “I’m sorry.” She smacks her forehead, and I back my face away just before she smacks me, too. “You’re going to need a Kate-proof insurance policy.”

  “I’m fine,” I croak, wanting to pull her back to where she was, but not having the guts to do it.

  She nods and, without me having to pull her close, she does it herself, resting her head on my chest. “Did you sleep okay?”

  I wonder how she can hear anything besides the pounding of my heart in her ear.

  “Uh, yeah. You?”

  That’s only a partial lie. When I slept, it was the best sleep of my life.

  “I don’t remember the last time I slept so well.”

  I chuckle and she turns her head to give me a “why is that funny?” look. Without even thinking about it, my lips go to her hairline and I squeeze her as well as someone in my condition can.

  “I know what you mean.”

  Something rattles the door and both our eyes shoot to it, but it must’ve been just a nurse or something knocking the knob while they passed. Kate settles back down on my chest.

  “Hey, Seth?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You sure you’re okay? Like, you’re going to be okay?”

  I smile, her hair getting stuck to my mouth as it goes upward. “That’s what they tell me.”

  “So…now that I know you’re okay, I can get mad at you?”

  “Uh…what?”

  “Damn it, Seth.” She slides out of my arms as she sits up, looking like she wants to hit me in the gut, but she won’t. “You scared me to death. Do you have any idea… I mean, I don’t know how I could’ve…” She blows out a sigh, and I lie there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open.

  I knew she was scared. I knew she felt guilty—which I hope she doesn’t anymore—but I had no idea there was something more than, well, that. Because I haven’t allowed myself to hope for more.

  “Don’t do that to me again,” she says, sitting up and staring at her hands in her lap. “No matter what I ask, you don’t have to do everything for me.”

  She’s blaming herself again—this is not her fault! I was stupid for driving on two hours of sleep. But I don’t regret the reasons why I hopped in the car. I needed to be here not only for Kate, but for me. If it’s that important—which it is—I should’ve dropped everything else and made this a priority. Left the MESA meeting early, or come to the noon game instead of trying to make the early one. Again, all the things I should’ve done, but didn’t.

  “I’m sorry I scared you. I won’t do it again. But…” I pull her hand into mine, not caring about the tape pulling at my IV. “Kate, I-I…” I gulp and reach down somewhere in my buzzed nerves to let out what I want to say to her. What I feel like I need to say, even if it changes things. “I want to do everything for you. I wanted to be at those games because, well…I-I miss you.”

  Then suddenly, like those were the words that were the hardest to say, a flood of them come out like they’ve been begging to since our stage kiss.

  “I miss you, Kate. I know you’re busy all the time. I get that. Of all people, I think I get that the most because my life is pretty much the same. But the times I looked forward to the most were theater class and work, because of you. Even when you had me prancing around on stage…” I wrinkle my nose at her and she semi-chuckles. “I liked it. I had fun. You’re more than just a theater friend or used-to-work-together friend… You are more than that to me.”

  Saying the words out loud, I don’t even have to analyze anything anymore. There is no scientific theory or math equation in the world out there to make what I feel for her any more clear. Even if words or numbers can’t explain it, I don’t care. For the first time, I don’t care if there’s no explanation.

  I finally make a move, because even though I’m nervous about her diving off this bed and running from the room, I want to hold her again. Pulling her hand, I guide her back onto my chest and feel her tense muscles—and mine—relax as she exhales against my neck. My fingers run over her cheek. She’s so soft, and warm. Beautiful…even after soccer games and sleeping in a hospital bed. And she’s here, with me, in my arms. Letting me touch her in a way she doesn’t let anyone touch her. I want to tilt her chin up and press my lips to hers. Let myself pour everything I have into her again. Let her know it’s not just that I miss her—I want more with her, too.

  I stroke the hair from her forehead, her mouth level with mine.

  “I miss you, too,” she says, and before I can make my move, my room gets bombarded by family members.

  “Are you sure you want to go in, hun?” Mom looks me over, worry lines creasing her forehead. I don’t blame her. I feel like a mummy with all the wrappings on me, but I can’t stand to be in the house a minute longer.

  “Yes. And I’ll be fine,” I say before she can ask. “I’ve been on my back since we left the hospital a week ago.”

  “Still, hun. School? You think you can handle it?”

  I hold back a wince as I walk over to her. “I’ll. Be. Fine.”

  “Well, the second you feel less than fine, you call me right away. I mean it.” She gives me a loose hug, like I’ll break into pieces right there on the living room floor.

  Dad comes up from behind, lightly tapping my shoulder. “You ready?”

  I nod, and don’t look at Mom before heading out. I’ll see My poor baby! written in every wrinkle.

  “So,” Dad says as we climb in his Honda, “what’ll it be this morning? Hubble’s Law of Cosmic Expansion or Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle?”

  I shake my head as he starts the car. “Velocity equals Hubble Constant times distance.”

  He smirks, keeping his eyes on the road. “Define Hubble Constant.”

  The whole ride is like this, and even though I know my dad’s making sure I didn’t screw something up in my brain, I know he’s also taking my mind off everything else.

  “All right—be safe, kid.” He nods up at the school doors as I carefully swing my strap over my broken arm and rest it on my shoulder.

  My foot lands on the pavement and I’m swarmed. I can hear Dad’s laughter as he drives away, but it’s drowned out by my MESA group members.

  “Oh good, you’re okay. Did the robot survive the crash?” Tammy asks, her red hair sticking out wildly from under her hood.

  I pacify them as much as I can without any bitterness in my voice. It’s not like we’re friends or anything. But our robot is just fine. The trunk wasn’t damaged at all.

  Wish I could say the same about Kate’s Gatorade, which exploded all over my front seat.

  After wiggling away from them, I limp
up the steps and walk face-first into Sophie.

  “Seth! Hey! How are you? Are you still wrapped up? I heard about your car, too. Is it totally smashed? What about the tree? How big was it? Do you think you’ll be back on cello soon? How long will it take for your arm to heal? Oh! Let me sign your cast!”

  Her words are out so fast, along with a Sharpie from her backpack, I have to blink a few times and rewind my brain to make sure I caught it all.

  “Uh…”

  “There you go!” she says, capping her marker. “I’ll see you later!”

  Guess she really doesn’t care about the answers to all those questions. Peering down at my arm, I notice a new smudge written on it, just saying “Get better! We need this arm! —Sophie,” but I’m distracted by the other marked-up spot, right across my wrist.

  When Kate asked if she could sign my cast, it took us forty-five minutes to find a Sharpie. But she was determined, and ended up asking almost every nurse in the place, before she finally found someone with a blue one.

  Why it had to be blue, I wasn’t sure till she started writing.

  SOHCAHTOA

  (Aka: Your “Sweet Spot”)

  Then she kissed it. I know there was about an inch of plaster between her lips and my skin, but I’m pretty sure I felt that kiss everywhere.

  Tucking my arm back against my body, I get to the main hallway as fast as I can without hurting myself too badly. Things were great when Kate stayed with me at the hospital, and she came to see me a few times at home, but now we’re back at school. I’m anxious to see her and find out if things will be different or not. For the both of us.

  I’m swarmed by more groups of people here and there, drilling me about the accident or asking about certain assignments they’re struggling with, or even a few people asking when I’ll be back at Jamba Juice. When can you get back to tutoring? When can you play in the orchestra? When will you be back to working on the robot?

  Agh!

  All the questions get swallowed up in the recesses of my brain, making me want to burst out from the crowd, but I can’t move fast enough without shots of pain in my ribs.

  Just when I think I’m ready to call my dad and tell him to turn the car right around and get me, I catch a brown ponytail across the student union. That’s all I catch, because the gorgeous girl it belongs to is swarmed by people, too.

  My heart stutters, but then it sinks. Sinks so far into my body I’m not sure if I’ll find it again.

  All these people. All this stuff we do. The clubs, sports, jobs, tournaments…it’s never-ending. And when I catch her eye as she turns, her face flushed and her fingers rubbing her temples, that sinking feeling about drops me to the floor.

  There’s never any time for…us.

  I shake my head and let a low chuckle form in my throat when I spot Seth’s gray eyes from across the room. That boy is so silly. It’s been what, nine days, since his accident? And he’s already back at school.

  “What’s so funny?” Brit asks and follows my gaze. “No flippin’ way! Seth is back?” I can’t help but notice how happy it makes me that she likes him so much. I mean, everyone should like him that much, but it means the most since she’s one of my best friends.

  “Oh yeah, Sleepy’s back,” Nick says and then drops down from his tiptoes. I turn, ready to lay into him because Seth’s accident is nothing to joke about, but Nick’s got his hands up in self-defense, a light smile on his face.

  “Chill, Kate. I was just kidding.” His expression turns serious. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

  I let a smile form on my lips, even though I know it doesn’t reach my eyes, and squeeze Nick’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’m really glad he’s okay too.”

  I’m not sure how she manages it, but Nancy gets through the throng of people and sidles up beside Nick. “Hey, did you guys see? That kid Seth is back.”

  “Yeah, we noticed,” Brit says with a hint of disdain, arms crossed over her chest. I told her about Nancy wanting me to skip her birthday party and apparently she finds her as frustrating as I do.

  “Huh. Well, good for him.” She shrugs and turns to me. “So, I’m going to do this right this time and let you know that two tournaments from now—not this one, but the next one—we’re planning on staying an extra night. Will that work?”

  Crap. Now that I’ve thought mean things about her, she goes and acts nice.

  Putting on the full Kate smile I say, “Yeah, that’ll work great, Nancy. Thanks for organizing it.”

  “No prob. See you in English.”

  Brit shakes her head as we both watch her leave. Since, for this one moment, no one seems to need my attention, I better say what I’ve been practicing over and over in my head.

  “Hey, Brit?” I gesture with my head for her to step away from the group a bit. If there’s one thing Seth’s accident showed me, it’s that I’d better get my priorities in line. A lot of things have to go. I can’t be the same Kate Ryan I was.

  One of the top things on my list of things to set right is to make sure Brit understands where she is on my list of priorities.

  “What’s up, lady?”

  “I just want to say that I’m sorry.” Her eyebrow shoots under her blonde hair at my words. “I haven’t been a very good friend to you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I inhale deeply and exhale, trying to sort my thoughts so this comes out right.

  “I’ve always been really busy. Most times when you’re looking to do something, I’m not able to. And even though that’s almost always the case, you still consider me a friend. And I consider you one of my best friends, and I just want you to know that. I am going to get rid of a number of things in my schedule so I can spend the time with you that you deserve.” Whew, there, I said it.

  “Oh, honey.” She grabs my shoulders and shakes her head. “You doing everything, and being good at everything, and sharing that with other people is what makes you Kate Ryan. Should you say ‘no’ to some things every once in a while? Yes,” she nods, “you should. But I am your friend because of who you are. Not what you do or do not do. I know that when I really need you—not for some silly birthday party, or some sport bonding sleepover—you will be there for me. And that’s what matters.” She smiles wide and juts her hip out. “I would have broken this off a long time ago if the amount of time I get to spend with you was an issue.”

  I’ve done so much crying lately—completely unlike me—that I am actually getting upset at the pressure building up in the back of my eyes. I will not cry in front of all these people.

  I jump into Brit’s arms, so basically my head is in her chest, and hug her tight. “Thanks, Brit.”

  “Anytime, lady.”

  When we pull away from our friendship moment, she cocks her head at the smirk on my face.

  “Spit it out,” she says.

  I look over my shoulder, easily finding the wavy brown hair, gray eyes, and hoodie jacket, and the recent addition of a completely overwhelmed look. I can’t help the smile that grows across my face at how cute he looks with that “deer in the headlights” expression. Then I look back at Brit.

  “I was hoping you could help me with something.”

  So here I stand in complete darkness. Usually the tape on the ground would give off a little glow, so we can find our places and all, but it only works if the lights have been on. And I never bothered to turn them on when I got here.

  It’s after school, and I should be in a National Honor Society meeting right now. And in an hour I should be at soccer practice. Soccer means more to me than the NHS banquet so I will be sure to attend that. I may step down from the banquet planning committee.

  When Seth first got in his accident I vowed over and over again, while helping him at the hospital and when he was home, that I would cut things from my life. After all, it could have just as easily been me smacking into that tree. How many times do I not remember getting home from work? Or a late-night basketball practice?

&nbsp
; But it wasn’t me, it was Seth. Which makes it worse. Again, moisture begins to pool in my eyes and I thank the heavens it’s still pitch black in here.

  Between having all that time to think and seeing Seth broken, battered and bruised, I decided to simplify. Have time every day just to sit and think. Talk with friends. Read a book. Watch some TV. Or maybe even a movie.

  But Brit is right. That’s just not me. The thought of not dropping into my bed totally exhausted, yet completely satisfied and excited about everything I have to do that day—everything I accomplished—makes me a little queasy. I am Kate Ryan—the girl who is blessed to be good at many things, and would go insane if she didn’t get to do them.

  So, since the moment Brit and I had our little talk this morning, I’ve created a list of things I am doing because I feel like I have to do them. This includes the yearbook. National Honor Society—I could just be in the club without having to be on every committee. I could give up choir so I’d have a study hall. I could take fewer Advanced Placement classes so I’d have time to breathe. If I just take a little time to get organized, I can make sure I get rid of the things I feel obligated to do, so I have time to do the things that make me happy.

  The door creaks open, letting in the first sliver of light I have seen for a good ten minutes. He must’ve been a difficult guy to find.

  Speaking of what makes me happy…

  “Brit, I don’t understand what’s going on. Why are we here?” I hear Seth ask and I stifle my laugh as I watch him put his arms out—including the one in the cast—so he doesn’t run into anything. “And why are all the lights off?”

  “Seth, for a guy who usually doesn’t have a lot to say, you sure do ask a lot of questions.” Brit laughs and helps him get up the stairs. She can’t see any better than he can so they both kind of stumble up. I hope he doesn’t fall and re-break his healing ribs.

  When Brit has Seth in place she says, “Now stay there. Don’t move.”