“Are you okay?” he asked, studying me with concern.
“I… yeah, I guess,” I answered then looked up and caught his eye. “Would it have killed you to tell me this years ago?”
Jake shook his head. “I had no idea you cared.”
“Shut up. You knew I struggled with it… with the guilt.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I guess I was just so focused on myself I didn’t give you much thought. I swear, Kyle, I’m going to be a better brother to you. I’ve treated you like shit for years, but that all ends now. You aren’t going to be my punching bag anymore, I promise.”
“I actually didn’t really mind being your punching bag,” I admitted, a smile spreading across my face. “I got lots of free shit.”
“That’s true. Maybe I’ll still throw a few punches here and there if that would make you happy.”
“I’d really like that.”
Jake laughed. “Come here.”
We hugged. The light mood I was feeling instantly changed the minute his arms wrapped around me. Tears rose up in my eyes once more. This emotional shit really sucked.
“You’re wrong, you know,” I sniffled.
“About what?”
“About being a hero. You saved my life, whether you want to admit it or not.”
* * *
After my parents returned, I went back to the apartment. I desperately needed a shower and some protein. I’d been snacking on cookies from the nurse’s station all day and had one hell of a sugar headache. Alone for the first time since getting the text that changed my life, I sank down onto the sofa and zoned out. Mentally, I was just so exhausted. I dropped my head into my hands and shook with relief and happiness and redemption. It had been a long ten years.
When I’d finally cleared my head, I picked up the phone. There was only one person I wanted to call. I keyed in her number.
“Hello?”
Emotion overwhelmed me again at the sound of her voice. I struggled to get the words out.
“Kyle?” Her voice immediately turned to panic. “Kyle, please tell me you’re okay?”
“Kenzie… he woke up.”
Kenzie: Epilogue
“Canyou tell me what these are, exactly? They look like tiny pitchforks,” Kyle asked, holding up a few two-pronged skewers. Then, like a kid playing with swords, he actually made swishing and stabbing motions with them.
“They’re for roasting marshmallows,” I called out, as I continued packing every item I could fit in the plastic container.
“Oh.” Kyle studied the skewers, turning them over and over as if his brain just couldn’t comprehend the gadgets’ very useful function.
“Put them back,” I demanded, but I didn’t wait for him to comply before ripping them out of his hands and shoving them back in the container. “I don’t want to forget them.”
“Right, because we can’t possibly use a stick to toast a marshmallow.”
“Are you going to help me or are you just going to pull things out of my already packed container?”
“We’re going camping, Kenzie. What more do you need other than a tent, a sleeping bag, and yours truly?”
He held his arms out for me to admire his wonderfulness. And although I wasn’t immune to his bigheaded charms, I had too much left to pack to argue the point with him.
“Look, why don’t you go make yourself useful by rewrapping the sleeping bags or something? I need to get this done.”
