First Sight by Laura Donohue Page A

building.   “What?  Hang on, I can’t hear you. I’m walking over to a window.”  I walked across the room and stood behind Marissa ’s desk, looking out the window into the dark night .  “Okay , what did you say?”
    I could see Travis’s reflection in the glass as Brian started talking, but soon all I could comprehend were words like “accident” and “mom” and “hospital” coming from my brother’s voice on the other end of the line , and I lost all awareness of my surroundings.   My vision seemed to blur , and the only thing I could picture was my brot her , talking frantically to me on his cell phone.  I felt a little dizzy as I tried to focus and concentrate on what he was saying.   “What?” I asked i n surprise, panic rising in me as I tried to grasp the meaning of his words. “Is she okay?”  My voice cracked as I spoke, and I saw a motion in the window reflection as Travis stepped into my office, dropping his messenger back onto the floor.
    “Okay,” I said hastily , nodding as I clutched my cell phone.  “Okay.  Right.   Bye.”  I flipped my phone shut and turned around to face Travis, tears welling up in my eyes.  His eyes were searching my face, nothing but concern evident on his.
    “My mom’s in the hospital,” I stammered, and as the tears started to fall, he was already crossing the room toward me.  I stepped out from behind Marissa ’s desk and straight into his arms. He pulled me to his chest, and as I fell against him, at that moment I didn’t care that it was Travis holding me, trying to comfort me.  I didn’t care about anything; I just wanted to see my mom.
    “What happened?” Travis asked in a low voice, gently stroking my hair as I sobbed into his chest.
    “She was in a car accident,” I said, my voice muffled by his shirt.
    “A car accident?”
    “I have to go see her,” I said, pulling back and looking up at him .  He rested his hands gen tly on my shoulders , and he had a pained look on his face as he gazed down at me , as if his own heart were somehow breaking.
    “Okay,” he said softly, calmly.   “I’ll take you there.”
    “It’s more than an hour away,” I said, tears spilling down my cheeks.
    “I’ll take you,” he said again, his voice as soothing as before.  He reached out and gently , hesitantly, brushed some of my tears away with his fingertips , as if he was afraid to touch me.  “I’ll get your coat.”  He turned and was striding to the door, which he seemed to know I kept my coat hung on the back of.  In moments he was back at my side, helping me to slip it on.  I couldn’t look at him as I walked over to grab my purse off my desk.  I was too upset to even think coherently , let alone to speak, and he seemed to understand that.
    Travis followed me into the hall, and we silently rode the elevator down to the lobby.  Once we were outside, I started to hurry in the direction of the nearest metro station, but Travis caught my arm.
    “I’ll hail a cab,” he said, voice deep and authoritative.  “It’ll be faster.”
    “Okay,” I replied , too upset and anxious to think of logistics.
    Travis raised his arm, and a moment later a yellow cab was pulling to the curb in front of us.  Travis opened the door for me, and I slid across the backseat . He climb ed in beside me.  As h e gave his address to the driver, I leaned back against my seat, closing my eyes.  I wasn’t sure where Travis lived; I knew it was somewhere in DC, but as we bumped and bounced along the city streets, it felt like the absolute longest cab ride of my life.   I couldn’t hear anything in the cab besides the sound of my own breathing, but maybe that’s just because I was concentrating on it, trying to stay calm , trying not to burst out crying again.
    We reached Travis’s apartment building ten minutes later, and I opened my eyes only when I heard Travis quietly talking to the driver as he hand ed him some money.  Travis opened the