It Started With A Concussion ??

It was eight in the morning when I said goodbye to the others and hopped in the car. I had barely slept through the night thinking about the events just prior to me laying down.

The moments kept replaying in my head. The call, the hug, the walk, the kiss, the tears. All of it. Over and over again I imagine it like I'm there for a second time, and a third, and so forth.

It doesn't get any easier to go through. My emotions spike and my chest tightens all the same as the painful image of him post-sob runs through my head. I try to understand, I try so hard to come up with an answer for all of it.

Did something happen?

What's going on?

Who does he not want around?

That question stuck with me the hardest. He told Lily he didn't want him around. But who is he?

I can assume there's a shaky relationship between them because I have never-never seen him like that in my eighteen years of being his neighbor.

We haven't talked about it. I don't expect us to either. He doesn't need to spill every detail or anything at all if I asked.

I close the door and lean my head against the window. I don't even bother buckling up or spare him a look. I can see his legs, but I don't even glance at him, scared if I do I'll go through what I did overnight.

I shut my eyes and put my headphones on, turning the music on to a comfortable volume so I can get some rest. I end up relaxing and just like that, three hours have passed.

I can hear him moving besides me, he's been unable to stay still for thirty minutes now. I finally took a glance at him, his eyes were fortunately shut, but he looked uncomfortable trying to find a position that he could bear.

He was wrapped up in his blanket, same as me. I held mine closer but refused to say anything. I finally had enough of his constant shifting when Elliot stopped for gas.

When El stepped out of the car and I noticed Kayla was fast asleep, I tugged on his blanket and motioned for him to lay on my lap.

I didn't want to see him struggle to sleep, and I know we haven't looked at each other, or said anything since last night, but I couldn't help myself.

I was focused on the beating of my heart as he stared at me. I was wondering if maybe it was a mistake to get his attention, but relief washed over me when he accepted my offer.

I calmed down when his head hit my lap. My fingers crawled into his hair immediately as he started to get comfortable. Just like last time, I didn't mind what I was doing. Especially after the night we both had.

Elliot got back in the car and continued driving, not saying a word which I appreciated.

"Do you want food?" he asked me in a whisper, looking through the mirror.

"Yeah," I answer.

A few minutes later Kayla wakes up and Elliot informs her about getting something to eat. It takes a while to find an exit with restaurants but eventually make our way to one.

He pulls into a parking lot and the two of them get out. I stay in the car with Jackson who's peacefully laying on my lap.

I look down at him for a moment. His hair is a mess, curling over his forehead, his eyes are closed, his jaw is relaxed. But it somehow makes me feel bad. Because just a few hours ago I could be saying some very different things about him.

Hair a mess, eyes glassy, jaw trembling. Thinking about it again made my heart wrench. Taking in a shaky breath I force myself to calm down.

We're not tearing up. We're not crying. Stop it.