Remind Me

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Oh my gosh, Brinley!"

Clarin runs over to me and pulls me into her tight embrace. She lets out a long breath, pulling away to look me over.

"I can't- how can- I am so-" she stops, looking up. "I'm so glad you're okay."

My mom is on me next, kissing each cheek and tears shine in her eyes. She presses her lips into a thin line and a few spill over onto her cheeks.

"You're okay," she manages to get out.

"What is that, Brinley?" Clarin asks me, looking horrified. "OH MY GOSH, oh my gosh, did he... Did he do that to you?" She holds a hand in front of her mouth to hide a gasp.

I find her focus on my arm covered in stitches now. I nod. "If by he, you mean Jonathan, then yes."

A new hand touches my shoulder, reminding me that Owen is still here. He spins me around to face him, taking both my hands in his. He pulls me into a tight hug, and I am almost confused, but I hear him whisper in my ear.

"If you don't feel safe, you can stay here. Or I can come with you. I want you to feel safe as well as be safe."

I smile, happy with the reminder that he cares. "I'll be okay. Thank you."

"Don't be afraid to call," he says, breath tickling my ear. "Anytime. Anywhere. I don't care if it's two in the morning. Let me know if you're worried about anything."

He lets me go, hands on my shoulders. Clarin and my mom both smile at him merrily.

"Thank you," my mom says, "for taking care of her. Thank you so much for doing us this favor, and thank you for keeping her... alive."

Owen nods. "I wouldn't do anything less."

"Alright, we had better get heading," my mom says, checking her watch. "I've got a work meeting in twenty minutes."

Owen drags me towards me again, leaving a gentle kiss on the lips. I hold his collar so he's forced to stay a little longer. There are coos and aw's from the unwanted audience.

"Can you come to the hospital and see Joey tomorrow?" he asks, tucking a piece of hair behind my ears.

I look over at my mom expectantly.

"Clarin can drive you," she nods.

And with that short goodbye, I'm ushered out the door and towards the car.

<•>•<•>

"Have you been home yet?" I ask the two in the front seats of the car.

"No," Clarin replies. "We drove straight to get you."

"Mm," I hum my acknowledgement.

We turn onto our street and there is an immediate intake of breath. I sit up straighter trying to see what the big deal is. Our whole street is lined with cars and vans and people. My eyes widen. We can hardly drive through, it's so packed. Then my eyes lay on my house. Our yard is crowded with what looks like reporters and journalists and photographers.

"Whoa," Clarin lets out a low whistle.

My mom lays on the horn, causing many people to jump. She puts the car on full speed, unafraid of ramming into any uninvited visitors. We swerve into the driveway and park in the garage, closing the door and locking it.

"Why're they here?" I ask, annoyed. "What do they expect?"

"A golden word about your horrid events," Clarin says, looking disgusted. "Mom, call the police."