*Ray

It's not that the hospital was boring, but even as attractive as Zach was, there was only so much time she could spend staring at him. Besides, he was awake now, which made staring seriously awkward, and he wasn't very chatty. She was getting tired of hearing her own voice.

Sure, she had lots of great stuff to say, but he didn't seem interested in long term, coral reef rehabilitation or migration patterns of sea-turtles. Good stuff. She loved it. He just wanted to hold her hand and say he loved her hair and eyes.

"God, your skin is soft," he whispered, stroking her hand.

"Thanks."

"I wish I could feel more. As soon as I'm better, we should go camping, just you and me," he said. But he was looking at her chest. Which made her warm-up inside with little heat flutters, but at the same time made her wonder if he wanted her or her boobs on the camping trip.

The memory of what happened between her sister and Russell on their first camping trip came to Ray's mind. Beth had spilled all the juicy details to their mom out of frustration when her ex-husband decided he wanted her back. She almost laughed out loud, but managed to cough instead.

"Don't you want to go?" Zach asked. "Camping, I mean?"

"Sure! I love camping. I've never done it, but it sounds fun. What's not to love—the night sky, sleeping on rocks, no toilets..."

"But it would be just you and me alone. Wow. Your skin really is like silk."

More flutters. She jumped to her feet. Was she ready for a night alone with Zach? Really alone? She swallowed. For the first time, she wished she hadn't agreed to her mother's offer of getting one thousand dollars for remaining a virgin until after graduation. Because after waiting for that big leap all through high school, she realized she now had to be picky about boys. When all your friends get their first awkward experiences out of the way young, later dating is as big of a deal. But Ray waited patiently. She couldn't throw all those long years away on a nobody, a cute, but ultimately forgettable boy. It had to be something.

She was at a loss for words in her own head. This was bad. She really should go home.

Right. Because there had to be a reason now—a fireworks in July reason, a thunderstorm of emotions, a kiss in a downpour connection, a throw away everything else and follow that person to the edge of the world romance—for her to trust a boy with her virginity at that point in her life.

And she couldn't quite imagine it with Zach.

"Are you going?" he asked. Hurt, puppy-dog eyes blinked up at her.

"I'm sorry, but I'm so tired. I have to get back to the house."

"Hey, about that house, those guys don't bother you, do they? I was thinking, maybe you should find an all-girls house or somewhere safer to live."

"Yeah," she said, confused. "No. I'm good. All right, I should—"

From that angle, a folded piece of notebook paper was visible under the hospital bed. She stooped to pick it up. "What's this?"

"Uh, I don't know. Must have fallen from my bag or something."

She unfolded the paper to check. Her name graced the first line. "Wait, this is..." As her eyes scanned the contents, her voice trailed off. The words swept her up in a torrent, and all she could do was hold on as she kept reading. The letter was beautiful in a way she couldn't describe, only keenly feel. It scraped her raw. It drowned her. She reread, skipping to parts of sentences, phrases, individual words, as though she couldn't read it in whole again. Not yet.

The things I can't say in the daytime only imagine in the dark, dreams that weave into impossible sights in my head...

...I didn't see you in the beginning, I'm blinking into the sunlight of you now...

...floating in that ocean that is my desire for you

Honey kisses from above me, a harsh word would kill at this height...

Sweet—your white summer dress in the breeze...

Sweet—the sound of your voice in my ears...

...below in darkness...I'll be waiting.

Her trembling hand pressed her white dress to her thigh. The letter was from today, this dress was brand new and she hadn't worn it before. Her heart pounded.

She read that last sentence again. He would wait for her. He was waiting for her now. She glanced up. Confusion, hurt longing, and hope greeted her in Zach's expression.

"You wrote me a love letter?" she asked.

"Well, I mean, I thought you would like it, but I didn't think..." he stuttered.

"This is incredible. No one has ever sent me poetry or written me love letters before," she said, breathless. She glanced back and forth from the letter to Zach in his hospital gown, leg in the air, and eyes wide. His wide, sportsman shoulders and the muscles along his arms popped as he clenched his fists nervously. He seemed so out of place in reality next to the letter he wrote. "You are such a different person inside. Why do you hide who you are all the time."

"What do you mean? I'm just a regular guy all the time."

"No, in this letter you are so much more. You never say these things, though, you only write them. Like the poem you sent to ask me on the date."

"Yeah, the poem. It was just a thing I did. No big deal."

"And this letter isn't a big deal to you, either? Because I think it's amazing," she said.

"You do?" He seemed genuinely astonished. Then his expression cleared and he smiled wide. "Bitchin'. I mean, yeah, I'm glad you like it. I wrote it for you after I tried to talk to you in the park and it didn't go so well."

"You wrote it when you were passed out in the bed?" she asked.

"No, like before."

"Before the accident? Wow. You write really fast."

"Just a talent. You know. Me and pens and paper and shit," he said. His grin was huge.

He was adorably cute. She couldn't believe he had been able to write so quickly—and that she was so important he would do it immediately after their weird encounter in the park when he had tried to plant a sweaty kiss on her face with no prelude or asking.

Speaking of...

"I'm sorry I kissed you earlier, but I'd like to do it again," she said. He held out his arms and she flew into them. Or fell into them. She might have landed a bit hard, because suddenly he was groaning in pain and whimpering for her to go easy.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" She lifted off his chest and brushed his lips with hers. Sparks coursed the entire length of her body.

The idea of being alone with him wasn't so strange or scary in that instant. In fact, the sparks in her belly stirred in a frenzy and moved lower between her legs. The idea of being alone was getting better and better.

But not now. He was hurt and she was tired.

"I'll come see you tomorrow, all right?" she asked.

He nodded. "Tomorrow. Then, as soon as possible, just you and me. Alone."

***

*Lokela

Twenty-five minutes after calling his brother to come pick him up, he was still waiting in the hospital parking lot, kicking tufts of dandelions to pass the time. He checked his phone again. Nothing. He pocketed it. Crossing his arms and legs, he leaned against the building to watch bugs dive-bomb the lamp.

"Hey, think I can catch a ride with you?" Ray asked.

He jumped to stand straight, hands diving in his shorts pockets to look casual. "Did you just come out here?"

She glanced around. "Yes, I did. I just now walked out, saw you here and thought to myself you must be waiting for a ride. And since we live at the same address..."

"Yeah, right. No, I know that. Same house. Still. Miller's coming. I think."

"Good. I guess." She motioned to the wall. "Mind if I borrow a spot next to yours while we wait?"

"No, that's cool." He pretended to relax, his shoulders pressing the concrete. Ray shrugged and stepped to his side, leaning on the wall so close that he could feel both the warmth from the concrete radiating back out now that it was night, and the heat of her bare arm. "You don't think you'll get that white dress dirty, do you?"

"My what?" she asked. He startled, afraid he had said something wrong, but she was staring up at the stars, barely visible in the middle of the city.

"Your dress. It's white. My mom would worry about stuff like that all the time. I guess it's drilled into my head."

"No, I should be fine. But thanks for worrying about me."

She fell silent, and Lokela checked his phone on the sly, praying that Miller sent a message saying he would be there soon. What the hell was he going to talk about to her? Ask if maybe she'd seen a letter lying around on the floor somewhere? He kicked himself mentally. How stupid could he be? It must have fallen in the hallway or here in the parking lot when he took out his phone to call the house. When he was with Zach, it was definitely in his pocket.

"Lokela," she whispered. He might have died a little bit at the sound of his name on her lips. "Can I talk to you about something? It's...something has come up. An intimate, personal situation, and I think I should talk to you. I think you might have some answers."

She found the letter. Fuck, no, she read it and now has to turn me down gently.

He coughed. "Yeah. You can talk to me."

"There's no easy or round-about way to say this, so here I go. And believe me, if I thought I could talk to someone else, I wouldn't be bothering you, but you are the only I can think of who can help me right now."

He was definitely dying, but for different reasons. He shrugged, mouth clamped shut. If she was going to put a stake through his heart, he wished she would hurry up and get it over with.

"So," she said. Three more cars passed by on the road. "How do guys feel about being with a virgin for her first time, and is it better to tell the guy or just let things happen?"

He staggered, faked that he was killing a bug, tried to recover his breathing without heaving, and fell back against the wall, thankful it was holding him up. "I'm not sure I understand," he said, sick with fear that he did understand the situation.

Was she a virgin? And was she really thinking of losing it to Zach?

Please no. Not that.

*** Hit the star if you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for popping in, everyone! ***