Lox's POV...

Greya hasn't shown up to class this morning and I'm battling between writing legible notes and worrying about the girl whom I'm falling in love with.

I'm using my shaking fingers as quickly as I can to jot down everything our professor is saying so that said girl can have notes to study from after.

I was running behind this morning and forgot my laptop. I haven't attempted hand written notes since...well I can't remember.

But, I'll try anything for Greya Matthews.

Classmates are staring but there's not much I can do to steady my hand. My left one's taking a nap as usual so not much help there either. It's the stress that does it to me. When I'm under too much stress my brain doesn't know how to handle it, and my normally good right side becomes flustered. I'll need to concentrate more and calm myself down. Greya's worth it, I remind myself.

She's texted me a few times letting me know she's fine and she'll meet me after class. I hope she's feeling better and there's nothing going on with Chase to cause her to miss class.

I wish there was more I could do to lesson her load. How she manages to do everything she does is beyond me. It's not like I can drive or take care of her brother for her anyway. The blind and the lame, what a pair we'd be. Who would be taking care of who? I laugh to myself.

These notes look like crap! I'll have to fill her in on what she can't make out of my chicken scratch.

I pack up my book bag and grab my cane. Greya's meeting me right outside the building she surprisingly just texted.

Her text makes me smile. I can't wait to see her, to be around her. Maybe she won't care that I'm limping more than yesterday. Running late in the morning means I didn't spend enough time stretching my muscles properly. I feel like I'm lugging around dead weight and praying my knee remembers to bend and straighten on command. Christ, I'm a mess.

Greya has a way of looking beyond my obvious limitations and somehow makes them more bearable for me. I love her for that. How could I not? We haven't known each other long, yet she makes me feel like I've known her forever.

I'm unusually comfortable around her. The only person whom I'm not skittish around. Anyone else grabs my hand or pats my shoulder or even tries to help me; my body goes into fight or flight mode. Who the hell knows why. My neurologist says it's part of the mystery that goes along with a brain injury.

Still, I'm luckier than others who suffer this type of injury. I have my witts. I'm cognitively intact for the most part. Except for the strange black out visions I've been having recently. I should figure out what those are, sooner than later.

"Hey handsome!"

Greya's sweet voice brings me back from my thoughts.

She called me handsome. Of course I'm smiling now.

"Hey! Y...you l...look like y...you're feeling b...better."

I want to kiss her on the cheek or hug her, something, but I'm not sure what to do here. So, I force my cane into my left hand so I can reach behind me and hand her the folded notes I have in my back pocket.

"What's this?

"N...notes f...from c...class."

Now I feel like an idiot because she probably won't be able to read them.

She unfolds the papers and looks at them. Her lips curl up into that beautiful smile I adore so much.

"Thank you. I'm sure these weren't easy for you, so thank you. I really appreciate it."

Why can't we be at home or somewhere private so I can kiss her right now? Being this close to her without the physical contact is driving me crazy. Not that I've tried it yet, but soon, very soon.

"H...how about l...lunch?"

Please say yes.

"Actually, I was hoping I could show you something? A place I found on campus."

Not lunch, but it's still doing something with her, so good enough for me.

"Yeah, O...ok."

She holds out her hand for me and quickly notices my sleeping left arm. Disappointment floods my chest until her soft fingers graze from my elbow down my forearm until our hands are linked together.

A chaos of butterflies erupt in my gut and my fluttering heart picks up speed, causing an overload of emotions and my tear ducts to flood. The fact that my awkward limbs don't repulse her, threatens my tears to fall.

Knowing I better get a grip of myself, I suck in a deep breath and slowly exhale while turning my face away so Greya doesn't see how her holding my hand affects me.

She cares. An affection I can recall only from Liam. Now I have someone else in my life who also cares. This is special and overwhelms me at the same time. I wonder if Liam's always been the only person to care about me? Our mother certainly didn't show it and without a father around, I guess we only had each other.

"You okay? Does your leg hurt?

What? I turn to her, scrunching my brows, somewhat confused.

I quickly realize she's gently pulling me along while holding my hand. My body unconsciously following her.

My knee isn't quite straightening all the way when I walk, making my limp worse and I'm suddenly extra grateful she's holding my hand because she's also helping me not to fall.

"S...sorry, my l...leg w...won't straighten. I...it d...doesn't hurt th...though."

She stops us and I watch her green eyes roam my body, thinking of what to do.

"I can put your arm around my shoulders for better support?"

Like she learned at my PT session last week. Yes, that would help, although I don't want to burden her with these issues, I want her to like me they way I do her.

My lack of response shows I'm embarrassed about needing her help.

"I want to help," she softly says.

She places my arm around her shoulders, the side of her body against mine and as soon as she snakes her other arm around my waist, I almost collapse into her.

Another vision of us in a hallway with lockers has me pause, only briefly this time, though just as strange.

Her hand gently squeezes right above my hip bringing my attention back to her. Jesus, what is this wonderful girl doing to me.

This time I work up enough courage to lean over and kiss her cheek.

"Th...thank y...you."

"Any time, Lox. I'll help you with anything, please don't be afraid to ask me."

I can only respond with a smile.

This is much easier for me. Her acting like a second crutch. I wish my left arm worked so I could get around using 2 real crutches. That would make my life so much easier when my leg doesn't want to cooperate.

"What h...happened th...this morning? W...why d...did you m...miss class?"

"Oh, nothing happened. I needed to talk to a friend about something. Everything's fine. Thanks again for taking notes for me, I hate missing class."

She quickly changes topic.

"I c...can fill y...you in i...if y...you c...can't understand w...what I wr...wrote."

"I'll take you up on that and I'm sure your notes are just fine."

Soon, we're in an elevator, going down one level.

"Here we are," she says as the elevator opens and we walk into an almost empty room. The ceiling is slightly higher than the regular 8 feet. There's an old Cello resting on its stand in the corner of the room. The floors are a dark oak, the walls are painted white. What catches my eye is the black ball room type piano occupying the other half of the room. We're the only two in here.

"Wh...what is th...this?"

That was a stupid question. This is obviously a music room. Apparently a vacant one. Are we allowed to be in here?

She walks us over to the piano and motions for me to sit onto the small bench in front of it.

"Don't worry. No one comes in here during this time of the day. It's a practice room for any student who wants to use it. I thought we might use it today," she shrugs.

She sits down next to me on the bench while I stare at the white keys.

"Liam said you used to play?"

I nod. That's what I'm told anyway. I feel the smooth texture of the keys and brush my fingers along the black ones. They're called accidentals. I remember that. They are notes, a sharp or a flat. A bunch of music paper is resting in its spot so that the musician can read while playing. Funny thing is, I can read all this sheet music in front of me but I don't remember the times that I used to play.

How can I play now with only one hand.

"What's wrong?" She asks.

I quickly look to Greya.

"You're frowning."

Shit! I probably am. It's nice she brought me here. We're alone and it's peaceful. Does she expect me to play? Because I think I know how but I also know it requires two hands to perform whats written on these sheets.

I look at my left hand resting on my thigh. I can probably get my fingers to work but holding my arm up will be a challenge.

I don't need to say it because she already knows what I'm thinking.

I expect her to get up and walk us out of here next. Instead she picks up my left hand and places my fingers onto the keys, then moves her hand to support my elbow. She's holding my arm up for me. I'm staring at her in awe and hoping I really do remember how to play.

"It's ok Lox, I've got you," she says. My mind once again drifting into an alternate world where Greya is with me. I don't know where we are, I only see her face and hear her voice, "I've got you" she says again.

I force myself to blink hard, a few times, snapping me back to reality. Greya still holding my arm in place.

I begin flipping through the music trying to find a song with repetitive parts and single chords so it's easier with my left hand.

When I find one I think will work, I adjust my posture and place my right hand over the keys. I look to Greya one more time to make sure she's good with holding up my arm, and she nods.

Before I know it, music is flowing from the piano. My fingers on the left struggle a bit, but thankfully I only need to use one finger at a time with that hand while my right does most of the work.

I remember how to play. It feels so natural, besides needing Greya's help. I feel the melody deep in my bones, carrying me away to a place of happiness and before I realize it, I'm singing.

"When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
There will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be, be
And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me
Shinin' until tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
And let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be."

My left hand drops onto my lap and I open my eyes to find Greya with tears pouring down her face. She's smiling and crying and my brain hasn't registered what's happening.

"Lox!" She grabs both my hands into hers. "You just played and sang Paul McCartney's "Let it Be" flawlessly, without any sort of stutter!"

I did? Shit! I did!

"That was beautiful and so amazing!" She wraps me into a hug.

My arms slowly wrap around her too. I inhale her comforting apple pie scent, trying to wrap my mind around what I performed. Greya somehow knew I could do this. She's helped me make it possible by bringing me here and supporting my defective hand so I could play.

"You remembered how to play! How did you sing like that? Your voice is incredible," She detaches herself from me yet keeps my hands in hers. Her thumbs making light circles over mine, reminding me that she believes in me. Why else would she have brought me here?

"W...when y...you s...said, I've g...got y...you, I b...believed y...you," I tell her. Stuttering again.

I don't get it. Why can I sing but not speak?

"Maybe singing helps?" She reads my mind again. Another thing I don't understand. She knows me better than I know myself. That's what makes her so special.

"There's no one here at this time during the week. We can come here together and I can help you play. Maybe singing will help your speech too," she smiles at me.

Is it strange that I feel both happy and disappointed? More happy of course because for that brief moment while I was lost in the music and singing, I felt free. I didn't have half a crippled body or an aggravating stutter, I was whole. Now I sit here next to a perfect woman who makes my heart practically explode with my affection of her, and my leg is having a
spasm and my arm wants to stiffen against my side if Greya wasn't holding my hand. My voice reminding me I'm broken.

With Greya I may actually mend some of the broken pieces back together again. Maybe music will help with that too.

"We need to tell your therapists when we go to your sessions tomorrow?" She catches me off guard with that comment.

"Y...you're c...coming to m...my therapy s...sessions again?"

"I told you I would. I meant when I said you're not doing this alone any longer."

"W...what a...about soccer p...practice?"

"Coach has me making it up with a 5 mile run on Thursday," she laughs but I don't.

"I d...don't w...want you s...sacrificing for m...me."

"You are not a sacrifice. You are important to me and this is what I want to do. No ifs, ands, or butts about it, okay?"

I nod my head because there are no word to describe how I feel right now.

"Good. Now Let's get you home because I can't skip todays practice," she jokes and this time I can't help smiling back.