Seph

My phone's ringing, but it feels like it's far away or I'm still in a dream.  My eyes open slowly and it takes at least a minute for me to remember where I am. It's such a strange feeling being totally unaware for those few moments - but then it hits me. I'm in a basement with Kian.

  My neck is sore and all I can see it's some boxes and bins across the room, stacked almost to the ceiling.

  My phone is still ringing.

  Flipping to my back, I reach over to grab it off the floor. That's when I realize that Kian is still sitting up with his head against the wall, fast asleep.

 "Hello?" I answer, even though I know it's my dad. Even though I have no idea what time it is.

  "Josephine, it's Dad. Your mother is worried sick. Where are you?"

  I swallow hard. He doesn't sound mad, thankfully. He sounds relieved to know that I'm okay.

  "I told her that I was staying at a friends house. It's not like I -"

  "You need to get home," he interrupts.

  I force myself to think this through before I react. I'm quiet for a minute and just watch Kian, who hasn't even moved. He's breathing steadily.

  "I'm in Long Beach. I'll be back soon," I finally tell my dad.

  "Long beach?! What in the world are you doing there?"

  "I'll be home soon," I say again, and I know that if I don't hang up now, he'll just get angrier.

  He's just about to say something else when I end the call.

  I used to be close with my dad. He was often the one who took me to gymnastics, every day after school. He used to try to be my friend and he was nice to me. He was fun. My mother was never fun. We got along okay when I was younger but she was serious and sometimes mean.

  Now I don't feel like I can connect with either of them. It's because I broke my foot. But it's also because I didn't turn out how they expected me too. Realizing that hurts more than anything.

  "Morning."

  Sitting up the rest of the way, I hear Kian's quiet voice. He's looking at me and I can tell he saw that I was on my phone. His eyes look tired and his hair is a mess.

  "Hey. Morning," I say back and tuck my legs up against my chest.

 "Did you sleep okay? I know it wasn't exactly-"

  "It was fine. You're the one who slept sitting up," I answer right away.

  His expression is somewhat embarrassed for a second. "True."

  I watch as he cracks his neck and then looks over at me again. He looks too serious. I notice he has a black hoodie on that he wasn't wearing last night. His hair is in his eyes a bit and his eyes are sort of red. But, God, he looks good. How does he look so good?

  "Thanks for letting me come back here," I tell him, even though I already thanked him last night.

  And then my stomach growls. It hits me all at once that I ate last night - at the bar - and I slept on the basement floor of a random person's house. But I was with Kian. And for some reason I'm feeling happier than I have in a long time. I'm a bit confused, too. Emotions are such a strange thing.

  He rubs his eyes and then nods. "Yeah. Anytime."

  "I guess I need to get home," I say, mostly to get his reaction.

 "Oh. Right. Yeah, we can get some coffee on the way? Do you drink coffee?" he asks, already pushing off the wall to stand.

  I stand, too, and fix my shirt, which got all bunched up. "Yeah. Who doesn't?"

  Kian grins. "Touché."

  Heading upstairs, my stomach growls again. It's a weird feeling. Usually I ignore it. But I feel hungry in a different way, this morning. The kitchen is empty. It's sort of a mess. There's beer cans everywhere and some empty bags of chips on the counter. It smells less than good, like there's a chance someone threw up somewhere and it wasn't cleaned up. Walking through to the front door, I notice there's a few people fast asleep on the couch and the floor. I step over a body after Kian does and he pulls open the door, letting me go out first.

  It's a warm morning. I don't even know what time it is. His truck is parked a bit down the street. We walk next to each other and it seems like he's keeping his distance. I wish he wasn't. I really liked kissing him last night. He makes me feel safe and good about myself. He makes me feel wanted in a way I've never felt. I know that I probably need to tell him this.

  Kian unlocks the truck and opens my door so I can hop in. Once he's in beside me, he pushes the key into the ignition. The truck has a very specific smell and it makes me feel safe and warm, right away. I breathe it in, closing my eyes for a second.

  Kian pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one before I can say anything. I can see the moment he realizes that I'm staring at him.

  "Oh. Here," he says and drops the pack into my lap.

  I didn't want a cigarette, but I do now. Maybe smoking will be my new real addiction, if I can get over my eating disorder. Or maybe it'll be Kian. That seems more likely.

  I slowly pull one out and light it. After my first drag, a rush of calm sweeps over me. Kian smiles as he rolls down the window and then pushes the truck into drive. It's obvious there's a reason we don't talk much when we're together. We don't need to. But I have a lot to say now and I hope he's okay with that.

  "What's your goal, Kian?" I begin.

  He doesn't look at me but I can tell he's confused.

  "My goal?"

  He's merging onto the highway as casual as ever, as if he's done it a thousand times. He probably has. I wish I could hear his thoughts right now.

  "As in... besides working and saving money, what's your plan?"

  He glances over but only for a second. His cigarette is between his lips. He looks beautiful, even though he's still looks like he just rolled out of bed. It should be illegal for him to look this good. The way I'm attracted to him is unlike anything else. I haven't had a lot of time to date or be a normal teenager. My eating disorders started so soon after my injury and it's been downhill from there.

  "Taking care of my brother," he tells me easily. "What's your goal?"

  I didn't mean for him to turn this around on me. I was just curious about where he'd be in, say, six months. There's no point in me getting attached to him if he's going to take off.

  "I don't have any goals, at least I didn't," I say. It's true. "So you want to go back to Riverside?"

  Kian shakes his head. "I don't want to. I have to."

  "So... what do you want, then?" I ask. I just want him to say something real. Something he really means.

  He thinks about the question for longer than I expect him to. He keeps his eyes on the road. After a few minutes, I just look out the side window and decide he's not going to answer me. That's okay. I pushed too hard.

  "I want to be a writer," he says, finally.

  My heart is beating so fast because he really told me something true.

  "Really?"

  Kian nods, even though he's not looking at me. "I took creative writing classes in high school. Of course, I didn't go to college and I likely won't ever. But I love writing."

  "What do you write?" I want to know.

  "Nothing, at the moment. But... poetry."

  "Wow." I can't help but smile.

  "I don't look like someone who writes poetry?" he asks.

  "You do not."

  Kian grins. "I've never told anyone that before. That I write."

 "Seriously?" I ask.

 He shrugs. "So... if you don't have any goals... you need to think of some."

 "Well... I have one now. Eat. And don't puke and... " I let my voice trail off.

  "What?"

 "You make me to want to be better." I say this quietly. "I was really depressed. I was... not just a girl with an eating disorder. I thought about... you know... ending my life."

  "Fuck. Seph," Kian spits out. He looks like he can't even believe I said that.

 "Sorry. That was..."

  "Why?" He wants to know. "My life has been terrible, overall. Since I was a kid. But I've never considered... that. I don't know how anyone could do it."

  I swallow hard. This is embarrassing. "I don't know. I don't know if I could have even done it. But living with my parents the last few years has been... not great. I have felt ignored and unwanted since I broke my foot. I couldn't be who they wanted me to be."

  Kian glances over but doesn't say anything. I can tell he's judging me. I'm a spoiled rich girl who hasn't had anything really bad happen to her, in his eyes. Maybe none of this is okay. Maybe we shouldn't even be together. Maybe we really are too different.

  "That's life, Seph. Life isn't perfect. Shitty things happen. We move on. We grow. We meet people we didn't expect to meet."

  I smile at his worlds. "I'm glad I met you."

  "Are you?"

  "Yes," I say quickly.

  He sighs and then lights another cigarette. I wait because what else am I supposed to do? This feels like a good, real conversation that we are having. But suddenly something feels off. His demeanor changed, somehow.

  "Well... I have a lot of shit going on. I... I feel like I'm drawn to you in a way that I can't explain but... I can't  take care of you."

  What? What does he think I'm asking him to do?

  "Take care of me?" I ask him right away. I'm a bit confused and it comes out sharp. "I didn't ask you to."

   "You did. You asked me to pick you up last night. And I did, because I wanted to see you and I wanted to save you-"

 "I don't need you to save me," I spit out, instantly annoyed.

  But I do. Of course I do. I need him to keep saving me.

  Kian looks at me carefully before nodding and looking back at the road. He rolls his window down all the way and sticks his elbow out. I ruined this. I got defensive and now he's mad. Fuck.

  He doesn't say anything else, even after he pulls up at my house. He turns off the truck, just down the street a bit. I can tell that he just wants me to get out. Why did I snap at him? Why didn't I just explain that we can be friends, without him needing to take care of me?

  "Kian-" I begin, because maybe I can fix this.

  "Seph, it's fine. It's better this way. I... I'm here if you need me, but-"

  "But what?" I say quickly, trying to meet his eyes.

 He's looking past me, at the house. I look over and see my mom is now standing on the front porch.

  "Kian, but what?" I ask again.

  "I'm no good for you, Seph. I wish I was. I wish I was a better man, someone you could bring home and your parents would approve of. But they don't. And it'll be harder on you -"

 "I told you I don't care what they think." I'm not ready to lose him entirely. I need to fix this, and fast.

  "I care. Because I care about you. And they care about you."

 "I'm nineteen," I say and reach across and grab his hand. "Kian, look at me. Don't do this."

  "You need them," he says. "A hell of a lot more than you need me."

 "Kian." A tear drops out of my eye and I'm not expecting it. Why am I so emotional all of a sudden?

  "I'm a fucking disaster, Seph. I shouldn't have come and picked you up last night. Hell, I had no business even talking to you at your party. My world is too crazy. I don't have a plan. I just... you need better than that."

  "I don't," I say quickly.

  He pulls his hand away. "Go."

  "Kian." I'm full out crying now and I don't even care.

  He looks away, but not before I see tears in his eyes. "Please. Go," he says again.

  I reach down for my purse and then push the door open and hop out. I want him to change his mind. I want him to say that he wants me to stay in his truck.

  But he's telling me to go, so I slam the door shut and walk away.