I think about standing and trying to walk on it. If it wasn’t really broken, maybe it was just some muscle tearing and walking will be better. I can leave now... or tomorrow, and get back on the road. But if itisbroken like Jamie thinks, and isn’t fully healed, I might ruin any progress I’ve already made.
And I can’t risk that. Especially since Jamie is late.
“He’s fine, right?” I ask the gnome. She doesn’t answer because she probably has a gnome-like sixth sense and knows he’s been shot and left in a ditch on the side of the road. Maybe the little sheep in her lap told her.
My stomach burbles with a combination of fear and hunger. I skipped lunch because it felt rude to eat Jamie’s food without him. But I was also anxious as hell. He took the handgun and left the rifle—which I probably suck at shooting anyway—for me, but I’m still worried about him.
I shouldn’t be, though. What does it matter if he gets killed by someone and I’m left to heal in his house all alone until I can go find the Fosters in Alexandria? But the worry in my gut tells me it absolutely does matter.
It matters because Jamie helped me when he didn’t need to and because he’s kind and sweet and has an adorable smile and... And sometimes when he puts his arm around me to help me up, I get that fluttery feeling in my chest that makes it hard to breathe.
And then sometimes when I can’t sleep I imagine staying here forever and just skipping my quest to Alexandria. Why should I travel so far just to give a family bad news? We’ve all had bad news. Bad news is, like, theonlynews post-bug.
Hey, guys, sorry your parents are dead but just wanted to let you know!Guilt makes my stomach burble even more. But staying here, with Jamie, is a nice fantasy. The guilt gets replaced by those flutters again and that’s not so bad....
No. That’s a silly fantasy. I scoot down the stairs and put my foot on the gravel at the bottom of the first step. I’ll just test it. Use the handrail to balance myself and put a tiny bit of weight on the leg. If it goes even close to that first day of pain I’ll sit back down.
Gravel crunches at the end of the driveway and I tense up. My body burns with a blend of excitement and fear. Jamie is home, or...
But it’s Jamie’s eyes I see when he rounds the turn in the drive.Then his smile that, yes, does bring those flutters again.
He gives me a quick wave and his gaze drops down to my leg.
“You’re late.” I cross my arms.
“Sorry.”
“I burned dinner.”
“Well, that’s just because you’re a shitty cook.”
I snort and he gives me a lopsided grin.
“Seriously,” I say. “Everything all right?”
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but stops himself. Then he takes off his backpack and sets it down at the bottom of the steps. He crouches and unzips it, taking out a handful of paperback books with library stickers on them.
“I stopped at the library in town on my way back,” he says, handing the books to me and hopefully not noticing how red I’m turning. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I just kind of judged by the cover.”
“You know you’re not supposed to do that, right?” I give him a smug look and he shrugs. This cute boy saved my life, gave me food and now stories. All you need, indeed. “Thank you.” I point one of the books at him. “But this doesn’t mean you get to skimp out on your film education. You’re disgustingly lacking on the pop culture front.”
He reaches for the books and nods. “Yeah, yeah. Then let’s go make something to eat and you can poorly explain another movie to me.”
“’Scuse your mouth!”
He tries and fails to hide another grin and holds out a hand to help me up. And right on time, it’s the hard-to-breathe express train. He lets me go up the stairs first, holding his hands out to catch me if I fall.
“Was the rest of your tripfruitful?” I ask.
“What? What do you mean?”
I turn back to look at him because he sounds thrown off, and yes, even his face seems to be confused. Unsure if he should be smiling or concerned or fearful.
“The seeds?” I say. “Fruitful. Like veggies and fruits?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
He should have made fun of me for that joke. Rolled his eyes or pretended to fake retch like he usually does. “You okay?”
