See Dot Smile

Resolutions

It's 2:30 in the morning when I leave the hospital. Kendall refuses to come with me. He hasn't seen Lilliana yet and he's not leaving until he does.

She's okay. She had a bad reaction when the pills she was taking mixed with alcohol. Turns out they were a prescription, but her parents don't know how she got them. Kendall says Lilliana started taking caffeine pills during finals last year, to keep alert and stay on top of her studies. When caffeine stopped working, she found something stronger.

It was one of the reasons she and Kendall broke up. He said he couldn't watch her treat herself like that anymore. She told him she wanted to break up because she didn't love him, but he doesn't believe that. He knows the real reason she couldn't be with him was because he was a distraction. A perfectly healthy distraction from overworking herself and trying to do more than any one person could.

He hasn't stopped loving her. And he probably never will.

I leave him, sitting across from Dean who's fallen asleep in his chair. I know Kendall is arguing with himself about whether he'll wake Dean up to see Lilliana first when the time comes. My heart tells me he will, because he's decent. It's why we all love him so much.

* * * * *

I'm wired as hell on the drive home, thanks to two cups of bitter vending machine coffee, and I'm ravenous. I take comfort in the lack of cars outside my house and the warm glow of the kitchen light. Bud must have left it on for me. I don't want to think about what the rest of his night must have been like.

The dashboard clock glows 3:00 AM and Joshua slams into my thoughts like a wrecking ball. 

We barely spoke to each other tonight. And he really needed to talk to me. 

I miss him. 

I miss being next to him and having it not feel strained. Pulled taut like something's going to break if we say the wrong thing to each other. 

My mind starts weaving an achingly beautiful fantasy scenario, where I climb the steps, open the front door and find him waiting ... to kiss me ... and take me ... and have me ... over and over again, until we can't feel our legs anymore.

I close the front door behind me and lean my head against the cool ... whatever the hell front doors are made of. Fiberglass?

"Everybody okay?"

"HOLY SHIT!" My heart jumps into my throat. I turn on my attacker with my knees bent and fists clenched in a bizarre defense pose.

Bud throws one hand out, and one over his crotch, protectively. "Oh God, I'm sorry," he says. "I thought you saw my car outside. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

My heart drops back into my chest cavity as I catch my breath and lower my weapons.

"Bud, what are you doing here? It's three in the morning. You didn't have to wait for me."

"I know," he says. "I wasn't exactly waiting." He runs a hand through his tousled hair and pulls at the hem of his t-shirt. He shrugged off the button-down at some point.

I get a whiff of breakfast food and give him a puzzled look. Then my eyes fall to a row of filled garbage bags alongside the front door.

"Yeah," he says. "I was going to take those on my way out--"

"You cleaned up?" I ask, an intense wave of guilt and gratitude washing over me. My eyes go all 'you shouldn't have, Bud' and he blushes. "Thank you," I say.

"Of course." He waves me toward the kitchen table, and I follow, too exhausted to feel weird about being treated like a guest in my own house. "I took care of the toilet downstairs, too," he says, milling around my kitchen cabinets and taking out a plate. "That was special." He's in the fridge now pulling out butter and maple syrup. "I think I may have natural born plumbing abilities. The fact that unclogging a used maxi pad from a toilet didn't make me pass out is probably a sign I could handle the job." I grimace at the image. I would have been gagging my ass off if I had to deal with that. Bud is my hero.