Ford’s jaw tenses, and his forehead creases. “Family drama.”
I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Of course, he doesn’t because Ford doesn’t need anyone to help him. It makes me mad and sad and reminds me why Ford and I didn’t work the first time. I pull my hand out of his and stand up. “I need to go.”
Ford stands up, reaching for me, but I back away from him. “Wait. Why? What just happened?”
The word nothing is on the tip of my tongue, but if I say that, then I’m doing the same thing he is. “Why won’t you confide in me?”
Ford rakes a hand through his hair. “It’s stupid stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.”
I feel like I can’t breathe. “Now you’re lying to me.” I turn around and run to my car. I open the door, but then slam it shut. Running away from my problem isn’t going to fix it. It’s only going to make it worse. I look around and Ford is gone. Dammit! I run down the trail and through the meadow to the river. “Ford!” I yell, waving my hands. He’s on his jet ski, turning it to drive it down the river. “Ford! Wait!” I holler. He glances at me but doesn’t stop, so I run down the riverbank. “Please,” I plead. “Just wait.” I take a wrong step, and the ground is soft and loose, and I lose my footing. I scream, falling on my butt and sliding down the bank, landing in the river. Well, this is the perfect end to the absolute craziest day of my life.
Ford comes wading through the water in his jeans and sneakers. “Hannah! Hannah! Where are you?”
I raise a hand over my head. “I’m here,” I say, my teeth chattering from the cold water. My butt hurts from falling. “Over here.” Ford sweeps me in his arms, carrying me to the jet ski. “W-h-a-t a-b-o-u-t m-y c-a-r?” I chatter, freezing cold.
“We’ll worry about it later,” he says, sitting me on the front of the Ski Doo. He holds an arm around me the entire way to his house. He pulls the jet ski up on the beach instead of next to the dock. I try to get off, but he stops me, picks me up, and carries me into the house.
“What happened?” I glance up to see Mrs. Cross standing in the kitchen.
“She fell down an embankment.” Ford sits me down at one of the kitchen tables.
“I’m fine. I’m just cold.” Ford ignores me. I can tell he’s still upset, but precisely what he’s upset about, I have no idea.
“I’ll grab a couple of towels,” Ford’s mom says.
He gets the first aid kit and a wet washcloth. “What’s that for?” He still won’t talk to me. Instead, he gently holds my arm, rolling it, and shows me a huge scrape I have on the back just below my elbow. “This may sting. There’s still a lot of dirt in the wound.”
I bite my lip and nod. He’s gentle as he wipes across my arm, but a couple of times, I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. A warm towel drops over my shoulders, and I open my eyes as Mrs. Cross pats my back. “I threw them in the dryer for a couple of minutes to warm them up.”
“Thank you, that was very kind.”
Ford disinfects my wounds. I have another on my calf on the same side. I must have slid down the rocks more on my right side than on my back.
“I also grabbed a t-shirt and some sweatpants for you. They might be a little big, but they’ll work in a pinch.”
“Are you still cold? You can shower if you want?” Ford nods toward the bathroom off the main living area.
“It’s okay. I’ll just clean up a bit.” Ford helps me stand. He picks up the clothes his mom brought and walks me over to the bathroom, turning on the light for me. I can’t even look at him as I enter the bathroom. I’m an idiot. First, I threw a fit and ran away, and then I chased after him. Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a day with such extreme highs and lows in my entire life. Once I’m in the bathroom, I take the time to look at myself. My entire right side is covered in mud. I peel my white skirt off. I’m not sure it’s salvageable; it’s caked in mud. I decide I’m better off showering instead of trying to wipe the dirt off. That will cause a bigger mess. I turn the shower on and quickly wash my body, not bothering with my hair. I make sure I get all the mud down the drain, so I don’t leave a muddy mess in the bathtub, and then I get out and change into the clothes Mrs. Cross gave me. When I come out of the bathroom, Ford is waiting for me on the sofa. I glance around for his mom, but she’s gone, or at least she’s made herself scarce.
“Do you have a bag I can put my dirty clothes in?” I ask.
Ford gets up, rummaging around the kitchen until he finds one, holding it open, and I drop my dirty clothes in it.
“Are you ever going to talk to me again?” My voice cracks, and tears run down my cheeks.
“What were you thinking?” Ford asks, getting upset and raking a hand through his hair.
“Which time?” I raise my hands, exasperated.
“Running down the embankment like that. You’re lucky all you got were a few scrapes and bruises.”
“I was running after you, ya big jerk.” I shove his chest. “And you were just going to leave me standing there screaming your name.” I cry, getting more upset.
“You ran first,” Ford yells back.
“I know. I know, and it was wrong, and I’m sorry for it. I was trying to make it right.” I walk over to the sectional and sit down. “Do you want us to work?”
Ford closes his eyes, raking his hands down his face. “How can you even ask me that? I love you so much. Yes, I want us to work.”
