I also have an older brother, Bish, who was adopted, but he’d been out of the house for a long time now. My parents decided when I was eight to adopt a kid from the state. They got a boy, a sixteen year old kid who’d been pulled from a foster home. He’d apparently been in lots of them and was pretty happy to actually be adopted being so old.
I liked him right off and he liked me. He let me follow him around and pester him. He played games with me and took me shopping. I helped introduce him into the youth group at church because he’d never been to church before. But he left to go to art school on a scholarship and moved to New York to be an intern for some jerk at a law firm. I rarely saw him anymore. We text, but he was so busy and I couldn’t seem to find anything to talk about but how much life sucked here without him.
I made my way to the stop light and waited for it to turn red so I could cross. There was only one other person there, a guy with his back to me. He was wearing his earbuds and bobbing his head a little to whatever beat he was listening to with his hands in his pockets. He looked back, smiled slightly and nodded before facing forward again. I checked my phone again and saw that I still had no text. I wondered why I was so worried about it. I wasn’t even thrilled about going with Kyle in the first place, but now I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.
I thought maybe I’d get a coffee while I waited. If Kyle didn’t text me, at least I could sit there. Maybe read a little from the Kindle app on my phone before heading home. I put my phone back in my pocket and looked up just in time. The light turned red, but the guy was already walking without looking to the side first and was crossing. I saw the red truck turning, the driver’s head turned left, but he was turning right.
It all happened so fast I didn’t even get a chance to think. I just reacted. I ran forward, grabbed the back of the guy’s jacket and pulled him backwards with all my strength just as the truck sped by in front of us. We tumbled back and he landed hard on top of me, his backpack banging against my face. My breath slammed into my chest painfully.
I heard a screech and looked to see the truck slam to a stop just a ways ahead of us. He yelled some obscenities out his window; something about stupid kids, but more colorful, and then sped away.
The guy immediately rolled off me, yanking the buds from his ears and looking at me with awe and concern.
“Are you ok?”
“Uh...yeah, I think so,” I groaned.
“I can’t believe I just did that. You-you saved my life.”
“It’s fine. It’s a good thing I was here, I guess.”
He scooted a little closer and winced as he brushed my hair back from my face. “You cut your head,” he said breathlessly and looked a little dazed.
“I did?” I felt it with my fingers and squinted as it stung. My fingers had a little blood on them, but nothing alarming. “I guess I did. It’s all right, really, just a bump.”
I tried to stand, but he held me down with a hand on my shoulder.
“Whoa. Wait, ok? Let me call an ambulance. If something happened to you after you saved me...”
“Really, that’s not necessary. I’m fine.”
He frowned and paused, screwing up his lips like he was debating it. I looked at him in the soft glow of the streetlights. He was tall, that I’d seen from before, and broad, but his hair was brown and shaggy, curling around his ears and forehead, and his eyes were light, blue maybe or hazel. His lips were fascinating as he sucked them in and out of his mouth in contemplation. He was wearing a gray hoodie that said ‘VOLS’ in big orange letters on the front. Great.
That was one of my biggest problems with Chad. He’d been so set to go to Florida to be a Gator when the University of Tennessee was right here. Right down the road. His dad went to UF, I get it, he wanted to follow his dad’s footsteps but it just felt like he wouldn’t compromise. I don’t know.
The guy’s eyes drifted to mine and we just sat there, eyes locked on one another’s. Then the corner of his mouth rose slightly. And it was unnerving.
“Please, let me take you to the hospital at least.” He brushed my hair back again and leaned closer to inspect. I heard my swift intake of breath at his closeness and he did, too. He looked down into my eyes again and watched me closely. “It doesn’t look too bad, but...let me call someone for you. I’d feel better,” he said softly.
“There’s no one to call,” I muttered, but wished I could take it back when I saw his face. “Really, I’m fine.”
“I’m so glad you were here. I can’t believe I did that. And I’m sorry you got hurt. I must have hit you with my book-bag when we went down. That’s a pretty good grip you got there,” he said and smiled. I had one of those moments where you stare and can’t look away.
He smiled wider when I didn’t say anything and chuckled right as I came back to myself.
“Uh, thanks. Are you all right?” I asked and he nodded.
“So. There’s no one to call? Your parents? A boyfriend?”
“My dad won’t come and my boyfriend and I... Well, we aren’t together anymore. I wouldn’t feel right about calling him now.”
“You don’t think he’d come?”