Haven (23 page)

I wanted to tell them that Harrison had chosen it because it was the closest secure location to the breach. I wanted to shout at them that here he was, locked up in quarantine, and he had chosen a spot that deliberately placed him in between the Infected and those who had wanted him locked up. He was buffering his captors and they had no knowledge of it. The irony between what I had just told them and what none of them knew was compelling. Once again, all Harrison was thinking about was protecting others. It took all my willpower not to march back to them and explain in fine, gruesome detail what awaited them and what Harrison was doing to shield them. Only out of respect for the agreement Harrison and I made did I manage to keep my mouth shut. But it took an amazing amount of self-control.

I was fuming the entire way back to the gymnasium. I stopped at the door to calm myself before going in, but I guess I didn’t do a passable job.

“You okay?” Harrison asked from the bleachers.

Damn, he was astute.

“Yeah, I’m good. I brought meat.”

He seemed more occupied with me than the tub. As I set it down at his feet, his stare lingered and only fell away once I took a seat next to him.

“You know me better than I think,” he said, eyeing the mound of flesh in the tub.

As I spread the jam on my bread slice, I caught a glimpse of him as he paused. “You’ve already told me your secret, Harrison. I won’t judge you.”

I could tell he wanted to reach for the meat, but he still held himself back.

“Harrison,” I said, settling my hands in my lap and disregarding my breakfast for the moment. This was much more important. “There is nothing you could do that would shock, embarrass, or repel me. Living with a military dad gives you a strong stomach for things.”

He laughed to himself and picked up the meat, but still hesitated when he noticed that my eyes remained locked on him. “You going to watch?”

“Yes,” I replied flatly.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Kennedy,” he said, letting the hand with the meat fall to his knees. “There’s something you need to know. I like you, I have since I saw you lying on that tombstone. So you’ll need to understand if I don’t feel comfortable with you watching me eat.”

The honesty and directness of his words cut right to my heart. I was just about to respond and remind him that I’d already judged him positively when the words “I like you” ran through my head again. I had known this, or sensed it in some way whenever our eyes connected in the hall or when he passed me in the parking lot. But it was his candid admission of it right here and now that sent a pleasant tingle surging through my body.

Unable to turn away from those dark blue eyes, I asked in amazement, “You liked me since you first saw me?”

“That’s not the point I’m trying to-”

“I know,” I said. “Answer the question.” I needed to hear it again, to reinforce the truth behind it, to know I hadn’t misheard or misunderstood.

His face, so strikingly gorgeous, suddenly became filled with passion and intensity, and when he spoke I was consumed by his words. “Yes, I’ve liked you since I first saw you, Kennedy. I liked you the next day when we passed in the hall. I liked you when I saw you in the library during lunch, when I saw you across the parking lot, when I saw you in Mr. Packard’s office. I liked you the following day and the day after that and I still like you now…so please…look away.”

“But you didn’t know me,” I pointed out. “You only knew this weak, feeble girl unable to get a grip.”

“I…,” he said and stopped, giving me a cautious glance. “I saw the gravestone you were laying on.” He let this sink in, which it did, rapidly. Then I felt every muscle in my body tense. He saw my reaction and when he spoke again it was quiet but firm. “Anyone who goes through what you did isn’t weak or feeble.”

Of course…of course he knows about my dad’s death…

I took in a deep breath, coaxing my muscles into loosening up.

Everyone did. It was an epic story in our little community, juicy gossip that lingered in pool halls, across dinner tables, even my own school for months afterwards. It would have made national news if my dad’s buddies hadn’t stepped in and stemmed that tide. I’ll be forever grateful to them for it, even if most of the people who would have heard that news were now dead or had been eaten themselves.

“It didn’t hurt that I’d heard a few stories about you, too,” he admitted, both as a digression from the current course of our conversation and as a way to lighten up the subject. He was grinning when I looked at him again. “They were about this girl who was half-jock and half-prom queen.”

“Homecoming,” I said. “Homecoming Queen.”

His smile tilted into a smirk, telling me he knew he’d successfully steered our conversation away from my dad. “You were known, Kennedy, by a lot of guys. And after I knew it was you who they couldn’t stop talking about, I could see why.”

“Why?” I asked, completely ignorant on the topic.

“You’re beautiful,” he stated without inhibition. “You’re smart, thoughtful; you have both feet on the ground.”

“Meaning?” I’d never heard that term before.

“You’re down-to-earth,” he explained. “You get along with the girls but can still hang with the guys.” He paused to reflect on what he’d just disclosed. “You, Kennedy, are an interesting, unique mix.”

“Thank you,” I said proudly, bringing the slice of bread to my lips. But before I took a bite, I insisted, “If I have both feet on the ground than you know I won’t judge you for eating what you eat.”

I chewed while letting him process what I’d said, and when he lifted the meat to his mouth, I knew I’d made headway.

Resigning to the fact that he was about to break his aunt’s rule, and exhibit behavior outside the norm and beyond the family unit, he opened his mouth and clamped down. His jaw muscles flexed with the power I saw earlier, making the bite seem effortless for him. There was no blood, the piece of meat long ago absorbing every bit of it. He held it between his fingers, like a burrito, and it seemed…well, commonplace and very natural. Beverly would have been repulsed.

“You’re really not disgusted by this, are you?”

I shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot.”

That comment seemed like an understatement now.

After a few more bites, chews, and swallows, he acknowledged, “You are now aware of my secret, Kennedy, something that no one outside the Hutchinson family knows.”

“I’m…” I broke off my response to search for the most fitting word, tipping my head back and slowly bringing it forward once finding it. “I’m flattered.”

And I truly was. Not just because that secret would have ostracized him, or worse, in the way the world was before, but it meant that I’d finally gained his trust. What I didn’t see coming was that trust is a two-way street.

“But,” he said, pausing before taking his next bite, “I know almost nothing about you.”

“Other than the stories from the guys’ locker room,” I reminded him.

He crumpled up the plastic that the meat had been in like it was the paper wrapper of a burger and chuckled. “That’s true. But there’s more to you than the cup size of your bra and what you think about in the shower.”

“I appreciate you recognizing that.”

“You’re welcome,” he said lightheartedly. “So I’m thinking that I should take advantage of the undetermined amount of time we have in here.” Before I had a moment to even consider the idea, he launched into his first question about me. It was pretty banal, so I answered it. The next one was just as harmless. And that was the way he kept it. For the next several hours, he asked me innocent question after innocent question. When my butt fell asleep, I stood up and walked around the gym, and he came along next to me. When I needed to explain something involving movement, I had the full expanse of the gym to demonstrate it.

His questioning ceased only once, when a knock on the gym door leading to the foyer echoed across the courts. I found lunch waiting on the ground outside, on a salmon-colored tray delivered Express Service by the cafeteria. The chicken penne pasta was still steaming. The other chunk of meat on the tray was uncooked, grey, and carved neatly into slices.

Though he was already out of sight, I shouted, “Thank you, Doc!”

“You’re welcome!” His voice drifted back, bouncing off the lockers and down the empty corridors.

After lunch, it was my turn to ask a steady stream of questions. Dinner came at dusk with two plates, one for me with cooked food and one for Harrison with his raw meat. We ate, talked some more, and then I made the mistake of yawning.

“You should sleep with the others.”

“I’d rather sleep here with you.”

“I don’t sleep.”

“I know,” I said, understanding his point. It would be frivolous for me to be here because I do.

“And the Infected don’t seem to sleep either.”

Refusing to be dissuaded, I said, “You haven’t turned, Harrison.”

“No,” he admitted, “but-”

“Do you feel any different?”

“No, but-”

“Then I’m staying.” Before he could reject the idea, again, I declared, “You’ll just wake me if you start to feel different.”

He drew in a struggled, irritated breath and exhaled loudly. It was cut short when I leaned to the side, slid my body down the bleacher, and laid my head in his lap. I noticed he didn’t breath again for several long seconds. That was somewhat rewarding. His thigh muscles made a firm pillow but their warmth was very inviting. I didn’t want to move, but he had a better idea.

“Okay,” he said, his voice intentionally controlled. “If you’re sleeping here, it won’t be on a hard bench. Get up.”

“You want me to sleep sitting up?” I asked, without moving.

“No, get up,” he simply replied.

My interest was now piqued and I did as he asked.

“So stubborn…,” he mumbled on his way down the court, which brought a proud smile to my face.

He rounded the bleachers, disappeared, and reappeared a few minutes later dragging a massive blue pad with him. It was the same pad the high jumpers used as a landing pit.

I observed from the stands as he stopped in the middle of the courts and called out, “Plug your ears.”

Of course,
he
didn’t need to, but when the pad flopped hard onto the floor, it sent a shockwave across the gym. He just stood there, watching it fall, as the sound pummeled my eardrums, barreling beyond the tips of my fingers that were stuffed in my ears.

He then splayed his arms out toward the pad. “Your new bed.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding,” I muttered and stood up. I was at the pad in seconds, my giddiness rising for two reasons. First, I hadn’t slept in anything that could be remotely referred to as a bed in months. There was a familiarity brought out by the possibility of sleeping on something other than a thin stack of towels. To have a bed, even one the size of a small pool and sans sheets, made me feel…normal again. Second, it was large enough to fit Harrison, too.

“So when did you find it?” I asked, striding toward him.

“A while ago.”

“And you didn’t tell us?” I demanded.

“No,” he said, without remorse.

“Why not?”

“For a completely selfish reason.”

“But you don’t sleep,” I said.

He held back a smile. “I didn’t want you sleeping alone… in case something happened. I wanted all three of you together. If I’d mentioned it, Beverly would have claimed it. Doc would have gotten tired of him and Mei sleeping on the floor and would have forced her into a rotational schedule. Either way, no matter which rotation you fell in, you’d have at least one less person sleeping around you…when I couldn’t be there to watch over you.”

I stared back at him, stunned. He’d actually thought through the results of his announcement, and without a doubt, I knew he was right. That’s exactly how it would have gone.

“Try it out,” he urged.

With a grin spread across my face, I crawled up onto the pad. As the surface gave way below, molding around my fingers, I moaned. Once I’d made it to the center, I stretched out and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, he was watching me.

“You like it,” he said, seeming content.

“A lot,” I clarified. “You should try it.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Ohhhh, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Because?”

“I think you know.”

“Because you’re worried you might suddenly eat me in my sleep,” I ventured playfully.

“You shouldn’t take it so lightly,” he chastised, “but, yes, that too.”

I sat up halfway, propping my elbows behind me so that I could look directly at him. “Too? What else are you worried about?”

He looked at me, curiously. “I’m not sure I can handle being that close to you.”

I sat up further. “Try.”

He seemed reluctant, as he sat on the edge of the makeshift bed. He was facing away from me, so his expression remained a mystery, but the familiar rise and fall of his shoulders as he drew in a deep, controlled breath told me that he was trying hard to contain his emotions. Following my command, he turned and started slinking toward me.