His Saving Grace

Chapter Six

One week after the party and I was still sick. Since my parents were out of town,  they didn’t know that I was sick (and even if they did they pretty much wouldn’t care) and I didn’t expect Alahna to take care of me since she had her own business to take care of. As much as I wanted to stay home in bed and just miss classes, I couldn’t, because my senior year in high school was crucial and I needed to do better to get into a nice university.

“You have to stay home,” Bianca insisted. “You’ll infect the whole school with your germs.”

Shifting my phone to my other ear, I pushed back from my chair and raised my feet on my study table. The semester was about to finish and we’d have our finals soon, meaning this week we would be bombarded with requirements.

“You know I can’t miss school, Bianca,” I said, then sneezed. I heard her grunt in frustration from the other end of the line. She’d been insisting since this morning that I stay home and that she’ll bring my schoolwork home for me, but I didn’t want to make her look like my personal slave.

“KATIE!” I heard Alahna shout from downstairs. “Someone’s here to see you!”

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I said, and hung up. Who would be visiting me right now, and why did it have to be today?

“Hi Katie.”

Light brown hair, lanky body, tattoos in various places.

“John?” I said in disbelief, wanting to slap myself. Why would he be here? “Garrett?”

“Alahna told me you’ve been sick, and Garrett here’s been worried—”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“—so I thought we’d drop by, and, er, take care of you, perhaps.” John grinned shyly, whereas Garrett leaned against the wall, arms folded, looking pissed than ever.

Don’t worry, Garrett. The feeling is mutual.

~~

John was sitting obediently on the beanbag that was too small for him, while Garrett stood by the window the whole time. I got back to doing my schoolwork after John gave me the same meds he did last Saturday.

After John received a call from his younger brother that he needed help with his homework (which I found very cute, by the way), he left the room. I glanced at Garrett.

His expression was, once again, unreadable; no surprise there. He was leaning against the wall, one of his legs kicking back against the wall, arms folded and hair covering his eyes. I noted rather absent-mindedly of how pocture wrth all of it was; with the moonlight streaming from the windows and all teh dramatic stuff.

“Don’t you want to sit?” I asked.

“No.”

I yawned. “Suit yourself. The beanbag’s always there if you want.”

It was 11:30 p.m. and I wasn’t even halfway through the work I needed to finish. Panic rose inside me. Fatigue was slowly creeping up on me; and the fact that I was sick wasn't helping me. I couldn't concentrate--everything was just swimming around in my brain, unable to make coherent ideas.

"Oh gosh,” I muttered. “The hell is this.”  I  hated Math. I loathed it. Abhorred it. Despised it. If it wasn’t for Math I would never have gotten a C+ in my card when I was in first year. Now I just get by.

“What’re you working on?” I almost jumped. Garrett was beside me—I didn’t even hear him approach me. His head was tilted on one side as he looked at my open trigonometry textbook.

“Trigonometric functions,” I said quietly, my heart hammering. That boy almost gave me a heart attack.

“Hmm,” he said, bending in closer to look at the book. I could smell his cologne—like a forest during the rain. It was intoxicating—I could just smell him forever. I watched his finger trace the lines of the figure on the textbook. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Go to sleep.”

I gaped at him.

“But my homework—”

“You’re sick. Go to sleep,” he said, his voice unwavering and authoritative. I continued gaping at him. Was he serious?

“No, I’m not letting you do my homework for me,” I said, giving him my best stern look. I bet I looked pathetic, because for a second there I thought Garrett smiled. “Pull a chair. Teach me, don’t do it for me.”

Garrett blinked at me, and then went to look for a chair. I smirked. Ha. That’s right. Do what I say. I giggled pathetically at myself, and by the time Garrett got back with a chair, he gave me a look.

It turned out that Garrett was actually good at Math. In 30 minutes he got me to finish all of my homework and even made me study in advance. I was impressed. Alahna had told me the other day that Garrett and the rest of his band finished high school, and then pursued their musical career.

“Who knew you were so good at Math,” I said, refilling my mechanical pencil with a new piece of lead.

“No,” he said, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “No. I just get by.”

“Are you insulting me? I’m sure if you went to college you would get a Math course, and you’d be excelling. I, for one, absolutely hate Math; but I guess preferences are always relative."

“I wouldn’t take a Math course,” he said, taking the mechanical pencil from me. I had a hard time fastening the cap back on, okay. He handed it back, a small smile on his face. Damn, he had a nice smile.

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” I said, averting my gaze. Garrett? Smiling? “Er, you know, you should smile more often.”

He sighed, then mumbled something. I risked a glance at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

Garrett turned his head, staring me straight in the eyes. He had nice eyes—they were deep blue, with little flecks of gold near the iris. There were dark circles under his eyes—the only flaw on his skin. His dark brown eyebrows were relaxed, not like his usual frustrated look. Garrett was…attractive.

I hadn’t realized how close he was to my face until I could feel his breath.

What was happening? I never let anyone get this close to my face. Never. What the hell was happening? I felt my breath get caught in my throat and my heart race. Everything--his smell, his eyes, his warmth on my skin--it sent my senses on fire with anticipation.

What are you doing? My subconscious seethed at me. Why would I let some stranger kiss me? Normally I would shove that person away, but this seemed to be an exception. I actually felt eager--not so eager, not in the bad way, but as if I knew this was something great. But what could I say? My thoughts were greatly muddled by my sickness.

But you know what?

Garrett was a good kisser.