Sirus and Kat ever stayed here. Paintings adorned the wall—fantastic artwork depicting faraway places that Joss had never even dreamed of. Dramatic brushstrokes gave the images life, and Joss wasn’t entirely surprised to see Sirus’s name painted in the bottom corner of each piece. It seemed fitting that someone as kind and courageous as Sirus would be an artist as well. Joss had never painted anything ... unless you counted the sad finger paintings of his kindergarten year, or his bedroom walls when he was in the fourth grade and Dad said he could help. In fact, Joss had never really done anything creative at all. He had written in his journal, but that was more like purging his thoughts rather than creating something ... wasn’t it? And he had started a pretty incredible collection of various insects—collecting, categorizing, mounting them on displays—but that was more science than creativity ... wasn’t it?
Kat set a tray in front of him on the coffee table. It was overflowing with various cheeses, crackers, apple slices, and grapes. After she set it down, she disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with two bottles of water. Plopping down on the floor near the table, she smiled brightly. “Sirus said to take care of you. So eat.”
Joss looked over all of the food and nodded with appreciation. “I’m not hungry now, but maybe in a little—”
“Eat.” Kat’s eyebrows came together in a way that reminded him of his mother when she meant business. “Please.”
Joss stretched out his hand and grabbed something from the tray. After he took a bite, he realized it was cheese.
“Do you wanna play cards or something?”
Before Joss could decide if he did or didn’t or even form a response in his head, Kat had a deck out and was shuffling them loudly on the table. He was beginning to wonder if she ever let anybody else make their own decisions.
Or maybe she just didn’t think of stuff like that. He looked at her and cleared his throat softly. “Actually, Kat? My back really hurts. Could you maybe find me some Tylenol or something?”
Without a word, she bounded from the room and returned a moment later with a prescription bottle that was half full of pills. As she twisted the cap off, she said, “Sirus said you should take one of these every four hours until tomorrow. Then you can switch to ibuprofen.”
The frightening thought that he was about to take strange pills from someone he hardly knew flitted through his mind and then disappeared again. He opened his hand and took the pills, then popped one into his mouth and swallowed it dry. If he could trust Sirus, he could trust Kat. After he’d swallowed it, he turned back to her and said, “Thanks.”
“Well, if these are the same pills Sirus gave me when I broke my arm, you won’t feel a thing in about twenty minutes.” She smiled and cocked her head to the side, her eyes gleaming.
“How’d you break your arm?” he asked. The combination of the cheese and medication left a horrible taste in his mouth, so he sipped from the bottle on the tray, hoping to rinse the foul taste away.
Kat shrugged. “I was in a car accident when I was five. My mom was driving, hit some ice—the country roads in Michigan are pretty slick in the winter—and we skidded off the road into a big ditch. Mom didn’t make it. I got out of it with a broken arm.”
Joss swallowed hard, the bitter taste remaining on his tongue. He wasn’t exactly certain what he should say or do. Kat had just shared something deeply personal with him, and all he could think to say was that he was sorry. Was that what she wanted? For him to empathize with her? Or had she just said it because he’d asked about her arm?
Before he knew it, too much time had passed with his silence, and saying anything at all would have proven even more awkward. So Joss took another drink of water and waited for Kat to speak again.
“It’s no big deal. I was in a cast for a few
Kat set a tray in front of him on the coffee table. It was overflowing with various cheeses, crackers, apple slices, and grapes. After she set it down, she disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with two bottles of water. Plopping down on the floor near the table, she smiled brightly. “Sirus said to take care of you. So eat.”
Joss looked over all of the food and nodded with appreciation. “I’m not hungry now, but maybe in a little—”
“Eat.” Kat’s eyebrows came together in a way that reminded him of his mother when she meant business. “Please.”
Joss stretched out his hand and grabbed something from the tray. After he took a bite, he realized it was cheese.
“Do you wanna play cards or something?”
Before Joss could decide if he did or didn’t or even form a response in his head, Kat had a deck out and was shuffling them loudly on the table. He was beginning to wonder if she ever let anybody else make their own decisions.
Or maybe she just didn’t think of stuff like that. He looked at her and cleared his throat softly. “Actually, Kat? My back really hurts. Could you maybe find me some Tylenol or something?”
Without a word, she bounded from the room and returned a moment later with a prescription bottle that was half full of pills. As she twisted the cap off, she said, “Sirus said you should take one of these every four hours until tomorrow. Then you can switch to ibuprofen.”
The frightening thought that he was about to take strange pills from someone he hardly knew flitted through his mind and then disappeared again. He opened his hand and took the pills, then popped one into his mouth and swallowed it dry. If he could trust Sirus, he could trust Kat. After he’d swallowed it, he turned back to her and said, “Thanks.”
“Well, if these are the same pills Sirus gave me when I broke my arm, you won’t feel a thing in about twenty minutes.” She smiled and cocked her head to the side, her eyes gleaming.
“How’d you break your arm?” he asked. The combination of the cheese and medication left a horrible taste in his mouth, so he sipped from the bottle on the tray, hoping to rinse the foul taste away.
Kat shrugged. “I was in a car accident when I was five. My mom was driving, hit some ice—the country roads in Michigan are pretty slick in the winter—and we skidded off the road into a big ditch. Mom didn’t make it. I got out of it with a broken arm.”
Joss swallowed hard, the bitter taste remaining on his tongue. He wasn’t exactly certain what he should say or do. Kat had just shared something deeply personal with him, and all he could think to say was that he was sorry. Was that what she wanted? For him to empathize with her? Or had she just said it because he’d asked about her arm?
Before he knew it, too much time had passed with his silence, and saying anything at all would have proven even more awkward. So Joss took another drink of water and waited for Kat to speak again.
“It’s no big deal. I was in a cast for a few
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