“And maybe I still feel bad about what happened at lunch when Isabella told everyone you were related to Jim. It was your secret to share if you wanted to. I had no right to tell Isabella. Especially since I knew she’d tell the whole school.” He looked over at me. “I swear I didn’t know about your mom. Not that that’s an excuse. I shouldn’t have threatened you.”
“You already apologized for that.”
“It doesn’t mean I stopped feeling bad about it. I feel like shit.” He laughed. “I always feel like shit.” He hit his head against the tile wall again and sighed.
“Well, I think you’ve more than made up for it.” I laughed, but it sounded strange in my throat. “You don’t have to sit here with me. You should go back to the hotel and try to fix things with Rachel. She’s probably furious with you.”
He shrugged, his arm brushing against mine again. “That can wait. My friend needs me.”
I looked over at him. “Friend?”
“Yeah, I guess. Since you won’t kiss me.” He smiled at me. “Besides, it just so happens I have an opening for some new friends.”
Matt and Mason. Thinking about the Caldwells and Hunters fighting just made my chest ache even more.
He reached up and grabbed a bar of soap. “Do friends soap each other up naked in the shower?” He raised his left eyebrow.
I laughed for real this time. “No they do not.” I grabbed the soap from him and looked down at my scratched knees. This was going to be painful.
“Maybe they soap each other up clothed then.” He took the bar of soap back from me. “Take a deep breath, this is going to hurt.”
I pressed my lips together and he ran a soapy hand across my knee. For some reason it wasn’t so bad when he did it for me. He ran the soap down my legs. The bottoms of my feet stung the worst.
“You’re okay,” he whispered. I barely heard his words over the falling water. “You’re okay.”
It had been a long time since I had felt so cared for. Probably not since the last time I was sick when my mom was still healthy. She used to let me rest my head on her lap as she combed her fingers through my hair. I was glad we were in the shower so that my tears mixed with the water. She used to sing to me. And I could barely remember what her voice sounded like. How could I forget her voice? How could my mind be missing such an important piece of information? It was like she was drifting farther away every day.
“All clean,” James said. “Unless you want me to get your upper half.” He raised his eyebrow again.
I laughed. “I think I can handle that.” I took the soap back and dropped my head to make sure he couldn’t see me crying. For some reason my arms were tired too. The soap felt like a brick in my hands. “Who was number three on my dad’s speed dial?”
“Some doctor. You said you didn’t want to go to the hospital. So I think he’s having the hospital come to you.”
That was sweet of him. And I was already emotional, so it just made me cry harder.
James tapped the bottom of my chin so I’d look up at him. “Come here.”
“Come where?”
He patted his lap and then opened up his arms. His shirt was soaking wet, clinging to the muscles in his chest and arms. “Let’s be miserable together.”
Misery did love company. But instead of crawling onto his lap, which it seemed like he wanted, I rested my head against his shoulder. He pulled me closer. And we sat like that until the water ran cold. Him just holding me.
***
I pulled on the pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top that my dad must have left for me. They fit me perfectly. The pajamas were fuzzy and warm and comforting. There were cute little squirrels on them. My mom had loved squirrels. We used to name the ones in our yard. Had she always loved them? Did my dad know that about her too? Was that why he brought me these?
A knock at the door made me jump. “Yes?” I knew I was safe here, but I still pictured Isabella on the other side of the door with a gun.
My dad opened the door. He smiled at my pajamas. “I’m glad they fit. Is there anything else you need?”
I wrapped my arms around myself. I wasn’t sure what would make me feel better. But I had a million questions. Was Kennedy okay? Was James still here? Where the hell was Miller?
But before I said anything, Dr. Wilson appeared at the door.
“Dr. Wilson’s here to check out your injuries,” my dad said. “Do you mind if he comes in?”