Keep an eye out for <>

"Clare, did you just pay attention to what I just said?" Doctor Cali said as he shined a light into my eyes.

I blinked the light out of my eyes and shook my head at him. "No, sorry, I started thinking about ice cream," I said honestly.

He couldn't hold back a sigh from his mouth. For the past two hours, I had been in and out of tests. So many people said too many things to me to remember, it was making my head hurt. At this point, I was beyond listening to anyone, and I just was letting my mind drift off.

From what Doctor Cali had told me was that he is not completely sure why I blacked out, chalking it up to some kind of adverse reaction. With all the tests I just completed, he hoped to find out the cause for it so it wouldn't happen again. Honestly, I wasn't surprised this happened to me, knowing that I had the worst luck. I should have guessed another drug wouldn't work on me. By now, I was ready to pack up and go back home, ready to give up.

My thoughts quickly shifted back to Peter as I thought about the phone call with him. Doctor Cali told me that I was out for about ten minutes. During this time, Peter was still on the phone, listening to it all that was going on within my room.

He never hung up until Doctor Cali forced him to, convincing him that I would call him back when I was ready and healthy enough. I felt my phone buzz, knowing that it was him for the 10th time in the last two hours but I haven't had the guts to tell him that another treatment wasn't working. I knew that if I called him, I would just cry in disappointment. I missed him and home. I missed being in a familiar place. I just didn't want to be here, suffering alone anymore.

"Clare?" Doctor Cali asked snapping his fingers at me.

I shook my head to clear it, figuring that I must have zoned out again. I shrugged my shoulders at him as if to say sorry.

He sighed loudly as he ran his hand through his dark, wavy hair. As I looked at him, I realized he looked so much like Peter, like the way his hair laid when he ran his fingers through it, or when he smiled, the corners of his mouth seemed to touch his cheeks.

"So, I think I know what happened with the treatment. Some nurse forgot to put in this injection before we started the IV. I think if we give this to you, everything will be fine for tomorrow," Doctor Cali said as he held up a needle into the light.

I looked at it in awe. Just one forgotten step, that was it that caused me to feel terrible? "So I don't have to go home?"

He shook his head with a chuckle. "No, I'm not giving up that easily. I'm sure that after this is injected into you, the treatment will be foolproof."

I nodded, feeling excited for a second. He talked with such confidence, I couldn't help but feel eager for this next step as I looked at him. "Sure. Ok. Go for it," I said to him as I held out my arm.

He sat down right next to me. "So, you and my nephew?"

I nodded, not sure what he was going with about this. He barely knew his nephew, so why was he bringing him up?

"Does he treat you well?" he asked as he injected me with a clear liquid.

I raised my eyebrows at him. And he wanted to know why? Why was he making small talk with me? This was the first time he had tried to talk about something different from medical information and I don't know if I was a fan. "Yeah. Peter treats me well."

"That's good. If he stops treating you well, let me know, I could talk to him," he said awkwardly.

This man was lacking people skills, for sure. Where was Doctor Patel when I needed him? At least he wouldn't be this awkward. "Ok. I'll keep that in mind." Not likely.

"Ok. Good. Good talk," he said and smiled lightly as he was proud of this pitiful small talk we just shared. "Your treatment will end in another hour and we'll start again tomorrow morning."

I nodded at him. "Yeah. That's fine." As if I had a choice in the matter.

He nodded again at me then walked out of the room in which I frowned at, feeling more alone than ever. I had no one to talk to, no one to tell me stories, or bring me chocolate muffins. And now that the sun was setting, I just felt so empty.

After a minute Doctor Cali came back into the room with a charger in his hand. "I thought you might want to charge your phone for the night. Just don't be up too late."

I gave him a small smile. Maybe he wasn't that bad. "Thank you."

He nodded, then left the room again without another word.

In the solitude of my room, I finally looked through my messages, seeing some from my parents and many more from Peter. My parents were asking how I was feeling for the fifth time in the last two hours. I quickly texted them back, reassuring them I was fine, that I was still alive, that nothing has changed. I just hope this would be the last text that I would have to send to them for the night.

I looked at my phone in my hand for knowing that I still had one more person to get a hold of. Suddenly it felt heavy and cold in my hand and the more I thought about it, the more I just wanted to call it a night and sleep, but I knew I couldn't, Peter was waiting for a text.

Peter was the boy of infant smiles but also of worry. I was saving him for last, because I honestly did not know how to respond to him. One wrong word could make everything turn sour, and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. He told me he loved me. I have thought about it for a while before he said those words, I already knew my answer, I loved him too. I had for a while now. My heart fluttered like a bird in a cage every time I saw him. He brought out the best of me and he didn't even try.

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But how could I put my feelings into words? I felt like anything I came up with was inadequate. I felt like he deserved more than just an 'I love you'. That just seemed too simple, too easy. He needed to know how my heart fluttered every time I saw him, or that my body ached to be close to him. He gave me so many things that I couldn't even dream of, but I felt like I have given him nothing but worry. I felt like I needed to give him more than just an 'I love you', he deserved that much and more.

I picked up my phone with a shaky hand, suddenly nervous. I dialed the number for Peter and held it up to my ear. As it rang, I got nervous, fearing that I would say everything wrong, and he would reject me, finally realizing that I wasn't worth it.

"Hello, Clare?" he asked on the other end, breaking me from my thoughts.

I lost my voice, not finding the words to speak. I felt my heart race in my chest. All the words that I thought I wanted to say flew from my mind.

"Clare? are you there? Clare?" he said with worry.

"Peter, I'm here," I said softly to reassure him.

"Clare, you gave me a heart attack," he told me. I could imagine him pacing the floor and running his hands through his hair as worry consumed him.

I racked my mind for what I planned on saying, but the only thing that came out of my mouth was, "I love you, Peter."

He paused. Silence engulfed the line, killing me.

I couldn't hold myself, I started talking before he responded. "I'm sorry I may seem like too much work to deal with, but I wanted to let you know how much you really mean to me."

"Can I just stop you there?" he finally said, cutting me off from my sentence. "Don't ever believe that you're too much to deal with. I love you, all of you."

I smiled at the phone, feeling my heart skip a beat. "Peter, every time I see you, my heart flutters. I love the way you smile, how positive you are, how you're always warm, and willing to warm my cold body. And, I just, I miss you," I said as my eyes welled up with tears as I thought about how he wasn't right beside me.

"I miss you too Clare," he said and then let a small laugh, "Can you come home already so I can hold you in my arms?"

I chucked back at him. "I would love that."

I could hear him play a light piano chord echo through the phone call, imagining him with one hand holding the phone to his ear and with the other hand, tinkering with the piano. I have seen him do this many times when he talked to his parents.

The soft sound immediately had a calming effect on me. For a second, if I closed my eyes, I could picture myself sitting on a soft off-white suede couch, the smell of dinner wafting into the room as Peter played piano for me. This picture ended when the sound of the chord ended, crashing my image with it. "Could you play until I fall asleep?" I begged him to keep going.

"Of course," Peter said as he started playing more complicated pieces as I snuggled into the stiff and uncomfortable bed.