19. Kennedy
Kennedy
I study him as he drives.
Nerves knot my stomach, dry my mouth, tighten my throat. It’s easier to focus on Theo, to pretend this is nothing more than an easy drive to a pretty place.
He runs a hand over his stubble, cheeks tinging pink when he catches me looking. “I need to shave.”
No, he doesn’t. It suits him. “You should leave it.”
He clears his throat. “Maybe.”
But my mind is caught on something else. “Theo… why didn’t you and Oscar go to college?”
I know exactly how hard he worked for his place. I was there for all of it. The late nights. The assessments. The interviews. The sheer joy, tinged with panic, when he opened his acceptance letter. “Oscar’s scholarship—,”
“It’ll still be there.” His hand whitens against the wheel. “We just… it was something we all planned to do together, Ken. It didn’t feel right, and Oscar agreed. So we took a year out. We’ll go back. The plan hasn’t changed. Just moved around.”
His eyes shift to me. “And honestly… I thought you’d be there. I wasn’t ready for that.”
My lips part. “I dropped out.”
Theo brakes. Hard. “You what ?”
I jolt in my seat, hissing as my belt tightens against my bandages. “Jesus. Ever heard of a slow stop?”
He twists in his seat to face me. “You dropped out? Why ?”
“Same reason.” I blink away the pain. “It wouldn’t have felt right.”
I would never have gone without them. And there wasn’t much point in pushing it back. Not when I wasn’t going to survive long enough to complete it.
I’ve probably had more nursing experience in the past six months than I would have learned in a classroom.
My eyes drop to my lap. “You still want to be a lawyer, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he says. I can feel him watching me. “And I will be. And Oscar will still be some sort of complicated engineer that none of us can really explain, I’m sure. We have time.”
There’s that word again. Time.
I can’t dither anymore. I have to make a decision. I have to tell him something – something that won’t tear him apart, that might give him some peace.
Or I could tell him the truth.
I nod to the road ahead. “We should get going.”
My hands slip down to grip the worn edges of the seat as we get closer. The thick patches of trees on either side of us begin to spread out as the truck winds upward in tighter circles. My breathing comes a little faster, short pants that do nothing to help the dizziness in my head.
He’s not there.
Sweat prickles against my palms, drips down my spine and pools in the base of my back.
“Kennedy?” I hear Theo say my name.
I can’t look at him. I stare straight ahead, my spine rigid. Beneath me, the truck slows again. And Theo’s hands grip my face, warm against my icy skin as he turns me to face him.
Piercing green eyes invade mine. “Breathe.”
And then I realize…. I’ve stopped. Panic fills me.
“Focus on me.” Theo runs his thumb against my cheek. Lifting my other hand, he places it on his chest. “Breathe with me, okay? Small breaths, Kenny.”
I pull in the smallest bit of air. Let it out again, focusing on the beat of his heart. Unsteady, uneven, but strong.
“That’s it. Again.” His lips purse as he mimics my movement. “You’ve got it. Don’t worry about anything else. Just breathe for me.”
Our noses almost touch as we stare at each other. My shuddering breathing fills the cabin, underscored by Theo’s slow breathing as I work to match his rhythm.
As my breathing steadies, I pull back, clearing my throat. Theo stays where he is, his hands clenching on empty air. “Is that – that panic - because you’re coming up here?”
Tugging my eyes away, I focus on the road ahead. “I’m alright now.”
He doesn’t move. “We don’t have to do this now. We can come back.”
Incredulous, I glance over at him. “I thought you’d be racing up there.”
“Maybe I’m worried about what will happen when we get there.” His voice lowers. “Maybe I’m worried about you, Ken.”
My blink is slow. I can smell blood again, and I turn away, toward the window. “I’m okay. Keep driving.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to refuse. That he’ll turn the truck around and take me home, and it’ll be my last sight of him. But he sighs. “Let me know if you need me to stop.”