When I awaken, I still feel fingers stroking my hair.

"Ethan," I mumble.

"Ethan?" My mother's surprised voice laughs.

I open my eyes slowly. "He was here until I fell asleep," I tell her, letting a faint smile overtake my face, realizing that Ethan makes me feel safe. Sure, he saved my life, and I'm hoping he never has to do that again. But something about his presence is calming; it makes me want to have him around more.

"Was he doing this?" She asks as she combs through my hair with her fingers.

"Uh, yeah, he was," I admit quietly. "It was nice." I smile a little and close my eyes.

"Well, I told you that he likes you," Mom says.

"I know, Mom, but look at me. I'm a mess. I lost my leg, I dropped out of college, I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life now. I'm so needy. How could Ethan possibly want any of that?"

"You didn't drop out of college," she gently corrects me. "And I'm not advising you to jump into a relationship with him and marry him next week. But maybe he would be a nice distraction while you're going through your recovery." She wiggles her eyebrows in a tease.

"Who's going to want a girl with one leg?" I complain.

"What difference does that make, cariño? Once you heal and learn to walk with a prosthesis, you'll be as good as new," my mother reasons.

"I'll never be as good as new. I will always be a mutant!" I pause to soak in my own self-pity for a moment. "But you know what?"

My mom's eyes widen in anticipation.

"I do like him a lot," I admit. "I mean, as much as I can like someone I've only known for a few weeks. He's really sweet, isn't he? And so cute. And those eyes...." She answers with a smile and a nod. "But I can't even begin to think about a romantic relationship. I have no idea how I'm going to do this. How am I going to get my life back?" Much to my dismay, I'm almost in tears by the time I finish. Stupid pain medications. Sure, they're good for actual pain relief but they're making a crazy mess of my moods.

Mom scoots onto my bed and wraps me in a tight hug, just comforting me quietly. She doesn't say anything for a long time and she just lets me cry.

I sniffle as I tell her, "I found out today that he's actually a physical therapist. Why didn't he tell me that before? On the one hand, it's kind of cool because he can help me, but on the other hand, he's going to see the weak, incompetent Sarah. He works with people like me all the time. He thinks I'm this brave, strong person, but inside I'm terrified. He's eventually going to realize how weak I really am."

"You are strong, Sarah," Mom whispers into my hair, and then she pulls back to look at me. "Trust me, I've known you all your life." I laugh a little at the silliness of her statement. "You've always been relentless when it comes to getting something you want. Determined, strong-willed, and might I add, just a little pig-headed?"

"Thanks a lot," I laugh. Laughter feels good.

"My point is, when you see something you want, you go after it," she continues. "You've always been like that. But you've always been too hard on yourself, too. Give yourself time to heal. And maybe you need that outside input, someone else to tell you how strong you are, especially on the days you don't feel it yourself." She kisses my forehead and then continues. "Besides, being brave doesn't mean that you never feel afraid. It means that you do what you have to do, in spite of being afraid."

"Thanks, Mamá . What would I do without you?" I give her a squeeze. "Still, I think that, if Ethan saw the real me, he'd back away in a second."

"Honey," my mom puts her hands on my shoulders and looks straight into my eyes. "If you let him see the real you, he'll fall in love in a second."

I roll my eyes playfully and shrug off her comment.

Mitch the social worker stops in a bit later to check on me. It appears he's already spoken to my parents about making sure the house is modified properly because they chat for a bit about some renovation plans that already seem to be underway.

Then he turns to me and asks, "How are you feeling today?"

"Pretty good," I say, nodding. I know my eyes are still puffy from crying, but I'm feeling better after my mom's little pep talk.

"That's great," he replies. "How is therapy?"

"Pretty good. I got to try out a prosthetic leg today, which was pretty cool."

He turns to my mother and asks, "How did she do, Mom?"

"Oh, she wasn't with me," I said. "Ethan came instead." And then, realizing that he wouldn't have any clue who Ethan is, I tell him, "He's, um, the guy who saved my life."

"Ahh, interesting," Mitch comments after I tell him the rest of the story. "How old is he?"

I'm not sure," I tell him. "Probably just a few years older than me. Oh, he's 25," I say, remembering his comment about being ten years older than his brother.

He nods. "It's common for someone who is rescued from a life or death situation to grow attached to his or her rescuer, perhaps even developing romantic feelings."

I narrow my eyes at him. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything," he says, but I don't believe him. "It's just a common occurrence, that's all."

"Well, it's not like that. He's been coming to visit me," I tell Mitch strongly, fighting embarrassment at his insinuation. "It's not like that at all. He's just being nice. In fact, I think he's the one with the overdeveloped sense of responsibility for me."

Mitch doesn't respond to me directly. He simply turns to my mother and tells her that he will be at their house next week some time to inspect the renovations. He leaves and my mother turns to me, hesitating for a few moments. I think she wants to make sure that Mitch is down the hall so he doesn't hear her. "He's full of it," she says.

I laugh. "So Ethan came to help me in therapy. So what?"

"Of course, mija. Ethan is a gentleman, and you like him for who he is. Don't worry about what the social worker says. He doesn't know you like I do."

"And you don't think I'm developing romantic feelings?" I ask.

She gives me a mischievous grin and says, "Bueno, I think you have feelings, claro que si, but not only because Ethan rescued you. It is because he es guapo, and you are guapa y ustedes estan encantadas!" Then she steps away from the bed just in time to miss my hand as I try give her a playful swat for saying we're in love.

"Mamá!" I whine.

Her smile becomes genuine and she tells me, "You don't have to define it right now. Ethan saved your life and he's becoming a good friend. You enjoy his company, don't you?" I nod. "Well, then leave it at that. You don't need to analyze it any more. Now, how about we go and get some dinner? I'm starving!"

"Me, too!" I say, and I press the nurse call button. When the nurse arrives, I ask for assistance getting into my wheelchair. I've been told I'm not allowed to attempt it on my own yet. Mom takes the helm and pushes me to the basement cafeteria. I've never been so happy to eat cafeteria food, and the chicken enchiladas and chocolate milkshake go down quite nicely.

"Sarah, I talked to your doctor today," Mom begins.

"Okay?"

"He doesn't think you're ready to leave just yet. He wants you to stay another week, just to let your left leg heal and get stronger, and until your stump feels strong enough."

As much as I enjoyed my dinner, it turns sour in my stomach. I struggle to not cry in the middle of the cafeteria. "So why is everyone telling me I'm doing so great when I'm actually not doing so great and I have to stay longer?"

"I know it's disappointing, mijita, but it's only another week. You have time. You won't be going back to school this semester anyway, so there's nothing to rush home for."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" I bite back. "You and that Mitch dude seem to be planning my life for me!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. But you have to realize that you're not going to be able to jump straight back into your life. I have no doubt you will eventually get there. You have a lot of time to get better before you go back to school. You won't be too far behind if you go back in the fall. And whether you feel like it or not, you're giving it all you've got. But no one can control how fast your legs are healing, so the doctors don't want to take any chances."

"I know, Mamá. I'm sorry. It just feels like I'll never get out of here," I sigh.

"You will."

Upon returning to my room, I discover my flame-haired best friend flicking through the channels. My face lifts into a smile for the first time in a few hours.

"Hey, Sammie!"

She hates it when I call her that, but she gives me a bear hug anyway.

"How's it going, girl?" She quips.

"Better now that you're here," I tell her.

But then I turn back towards my mom and squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Mom."

I tell Sam about my day, about Ethan coming with me to therapy and staying with me until I fell asleep.

"Aww, that's so sweet," Sam coos. "First, he saves your life and then he falls in love with you."

"He's so not in love with me, Sam!"

Why does everyone keep saying that? He's kind of amazing, grounded, solid, funny. And handsome. He couldn't possibly want a girl like me, a girl whose life has fallen apart. A girl who has no idea how to put her life back together. Mitch was probably right. I'm stupid and naive, thinking Ethan has any kind of feelings for me.

"Well, guess what?" Sam changes the subject. I widen my eyes in response, waiting for her news. "I got the internship in Philly!"

"Sam, that's fantastic!" I say, celebrating with her as I squish her, curly hair and all.

I forgot she had applied for this internship. It was a huge deal when she sent off the application in December. I had no idea back then how much I would need her now.

"It's only for the summer," Sam assures me, eying my ensuing uncertainty. "I'm not leaving you. I promise."

"I know, Sam. It's really fabulous. I'm so happy for you." I give her my most genuine smile even though it feels fake on the inside. "Besides, the way things are going, I'll probably still be in this stupid hospital."

"What are you talking about?" She asks me, then looks at my mom.

"Sarah's doctor said she has to stay another week," my mom emphasizes. "Not until summer."

"That sucks but it will go by fast with all the hard work you're doing here. And we'll still have two months together before I leave for Philadelphia."

I smile at my best friend. I'm glad she's not leaving just yet. I need her.

I know that I will fall asleep quite soon, so I say my good-byes to Mom and Sam. I want to talk to Sam more about Ethan and about what Mitch said, but I decide to wait until I'm alone with her. As much as I appreciate my mom's advice, I know that Sam will have a different perspective.

Mom has one more piece of information to share before she leaves, "Daddy will be back in a few days. And he has some big news." I give her a confused look. He had stayed three days after that first visit, and then he had to fly back out to Belgium.

What kind of big news could he possibly have? That he's moving to Europe for good?

I know I need to tame my cynicism when it comes to my dad. When he's here, he's here 110%, but when he's gone, he's gone for ages. I just spent a lot of time missing him when I was growing up instead of cherishing the time I had with him. I used to take it personally that he was gone so much, like I wasn't important enough to him, but as I got older, I realized that this was the career he chose. Mom knew it when she married him, but I didn't agree to it as a baby. I've only come to accept it as an adult. My dad has been providing for our family the best way he knows.

I'm exhausted from the day's activities, but I find that sleep doesn't come easily. What if I really am just growing attached to Ethan because he showed up at the accident scene and saved me from dying? What if some weak part of me likes the idea of having someone take care of me? Like, Oh, my hero came to my rescue and now he will take care of me for the rest of my life? It doesn't sit well with me. I don't like to rely on anyone for anything. Although Ethan seems like the perfect solution for someone to take care of me since I'm crippled now and he's a physical therapist. And he's handsome, sweet, funny. And I bet he makes a lot of money.

See? Now that's the kind of stupid stuff I don't want to think about. I don't want to fall in love based on how much money a guy has. If I ever fall in love, I want it to be for all the right reasons.

Even after I finally fall asleep, the worrisome thoughts plague my dreams, and I toss and turn most of the night.

The next morning, I awaken with a bright ray of sunshine streaming across my face. I lie there with my eyes closed and absorb the warmth for several minutes. It feels wonderful, but I'm quite groggy from my mind's night-time anxiety.

I'm startled by Laney's voice. "Look what I found for you at the nurse's station." I open my eyes to see a colorful arrangement of Gerber daisies. I smile, knowing they must be from my dad. He sends flowers to my mother and me frequently, one of his most common reminders that, even though he's far away, he still thinks of us all the time.

Laney sets the bouquet on my side table and I reach for the card.

Keep up the hard work, Sarah! I'm proud of you. I'll see you in a few days. Ethan

Laney must notice my surprise when she playfully asks, "Oooh, who sent them?"

"Ethan, the guy who saved my life."

"He saved your life?" She gasps. "Tell me the story."

Ethan's bravery is certainly a story to tell, but it's still awkward to talk about my accident and my brush with death. I give her the short version of the story, and then look at my flowers again. It was very sweet of him. If he would just stop doing such thoughtful things, I might have an easier time not being attracted to him.

Okay, fine. I'm attracted to him. I'll admit that. But that doesn't mean anything is going to happen because...well, it just won't, and that's that.

After ADL's and my physical therapy, I ask for help to get back into my bed since I'm so sleepy. But even in my tired state, I can't stop thinking.

I start to wonder about Ethan and how he's so grounded in his faith. I admire him in a way, because he doesn't get all in my face about his faith but he's still so positive. It's almost like he just lives it out and other people notice because he's such a great guy.

I start to remember some of the reasons I stopped going to church. I didn't necessarily dislike it, but I didn't love it the way my mother does, either. She allowed me to stop going after I turned thirteen. I guess she just felt like I was old enough to start making my own decisions about some things.

God just didn't make sense to me at the time. I mean, yes, I believe in God. But there were a lot of things I didn't understand, and I still don't, to be honest. It seems that most of the people I knew were those who went to church with my mom, so first of all, I didn't have much in common with them. Second of all, it seemed like they talked about suffering an awful lot.

How ironic is it that now I'm the one suffering? Of course, maybe there's a reason for that. Maybe God was mad at me for walking away and that's why he made this happen. It's not the most comfortable idea, but I wonder if it's true.

* * * * *

Another update because I wanted to :D