Time passed, as it was wont to do. Before Marianna knew it, she was walking down the hallways of Finley High, running into a worried Kearstan, who seemed to have decided she needed to get back into Marianna’s good graces. Marianna didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt for brushing her off.

Her friends’ endless support and limitless patience softened the jarring sensation of being forced back into normal life. Blaze skipped the occasional basketball practice to attend the GSA club with the three girls. On top of that, Hikari and Sadie seemed to make a habit of watching Marianna out of the corner of their eyes, on high alert for any sign of distress. Any time Marianna spaced out, or her breathing became irregular, one of her friends would be there, doing everything they could to calm her down. Whether it took a simple embrace or missing the first half of class to sit in the girls’ room with her, Marinna’s friends would do it.

She’d gotten fed up a few times; had snapped harshly at them. They continued to show her nothing but love and support. She didn’t deserve them.

Time passed. Both of Alna’s parents went back to work somewhere around the two-week mark, their relatives having gone their separate ways.

Two weeks progressed to three. Marinna would sit in Alna’s hospital room, doing her homework and (if she was alone) talking aloud, musing over the more complicated questions she was assigned. She even checked out a mystery book from the Finley High library, reading it to Alna on occasion. A part of her hoped her voice would register in Alna’s mind and wake her up. It didn’t.

Marianna’s shoulder healed, although it now had a scar. She didn’t particularly care.

Time passed. Marianna’s grades slipped. She thought that was perfectly understandable.

Her parents continued to bring up seeing a therapist from time to time. Instead, Marianna found an alternative; she watched relaxing videos online. They helped a bit, even if they didn’t always stop the nightmares. They did help her calm down, though.

Marianna knew she should probably see a therapist. She just didn’t want to risk exposing any of what led her and Alna to be in a life-threatening situation in the first place.

She would consider it one day. When she was more certain she wouldn’t give anything away.

Ms. Ashworth and Mr. Cope continued to remain in jail, to the best of Marianna’s knowledge.

Time passed. When Marianna looked out the windows of Finley High one day and realized over a month had gone by, she could admit to feeling despair.

***

Marianna was in social studies, watching the snowfall outside, having tuned out Mr. Jones’ voice somewhere within the first ten minutes of class. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about school, or that she didn’t try to pay attention––she did, on both accounts––but lately, she found her ability to focus waning, bit by bit. Her marks seemed to be in a loop, as they rose and dropped depending on how well Marianna did that week.

Blaze seemed to have no difficulty paying attention to Mr. Jones’s boring voice, as he was scribbling furiously on a piece of lined paper, a dent between his brows. Even when he was writing at least fifty words a minute, his handwriting seemed to be nearly pristine. Marianna had always envied that.

There were fifteen minutes left in class when Marianna finally brought her mind back to the present, although not without concentration. With determination, Marianna brought her gaze to the slideshow Mr. Jones was showing the class and picked up her pencil. He should learn to choose colours that didn’t blend so well, she thought. Trying to read purple letters on a blue background was going to strain her eyes. She knew it.

Marianna was halfway through her first paragraph of notes––thank God for her friends, otherwise she’d have nothing but her textbook to study from––when her phone vibrated from where it rested on her desk, telling her she had an incoming call. Immediately, Marianna’s hand snatched up the device, her eyes scanning the caller ID. Her heart stopped when the display told her she was getting a call from the hospital.

Without thinking, Marianna leaped out of her chair, catching the attention of everyone in the classroom.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones,” Marianna said, her words tripping over each other. “I need to take this.” Without waiting for a response, Marianna practically ran for the door. She skidded to a stop on the polished white floor in the hallway and brought her new cell phone to her ear.

“Hello?” she asked, gripping the phone in her sweaty palm.

There were a few seconds of silence. Marianna’s heart pounded in her ears. And then the voice Marianna had been wanting to hear for a month and seventeen days filtered through the speaker.

“Marianna, I have to say I’m disappointed,” Alna said, with a hint of amusement in her voice. “I wake up in the hospital––not only to find I have lost over a month’s worth of time, but also alone. It’s enough to make a girl feel unwanted.”

“Alna,” Marianna breathed out, already speeding down the hallway. “Oh, my God. Are you all right? God, you have no idea how good it is to hear from you. I thought–– Never mind. Are you feeling okay? God––”

“Marianna,” Alna cut her off, still sounding entertained, despite the fatigued edge in her voice. “I do like you, but I was under the impression that I was the one who rambled in this relationship.”

Marianna smiled at that. Alna had only just woken up from a coma-like state, and she somehow sounded and acted so utterly Alna that it left Marianna in awe. This girl was unflappable. She pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to inform the pixie-haired lady in the office that she was leaving before she was heading for the main entryway, phone pressed back to her ear.

“Give me ten minutes,” Marianna said, still breathless. “I’m coming.”

Alna made what Marianna knew without a doubt was a half-hearted effort to convince her not to skip school. Marianna hushed her and hung up so she could call a cab.

Marianna’s promise of ten minutes ended up being a lie. It took almost fifteen minutes for the cab to arrive and pick her up. During that time, Marianna remembered her wallet was still in her locker and bolted back into the school to retrieve it. She had enough presence of mind to snatch her coat, too, and spent the next endless minutes pacing as she waited for the cab.

She knew she was likely making this up in her mind, but on the drive to the hospital, she could have sworn the cab hit every red light, lingered a moment too long at every stop sign. She was tempted to offer the balding man twice the fare to get her to the hospital as soon as possible but knew the last thing she needed right now was to risk getting in another accident. Her knee bounced up and down.

Finally, the cab pulled up to the front doors of the hospital and Marianna tossed two twenty-dollar bills at the driver. She didn’t bother to stop and thank the man.

Halfway to the sliding doors, Marianna slipped on a patch of ice and fell forward, ripping a hole in her jeans. She didn’t care. Marianna got up and speed-walked the rest of the way, ignoring the sting in her knee.

The moment Marianna entered the hospital, she was hit with a blast of warmth. She gave an involuntary shiver, realizing how cold it was outside. Rubbing her arms through her denim jacket, Marianna walked past the main desk, heading to Alna’s room.

“You may have to wait a few minutes,” called the nurse at the front desk, stopping Marianna in her tracks. Impatiently, she turned toward the woman. “Some nurses are attending to her,” the woman continued in a gentle voice, seeing Marianna’s distress.

Marianna blinked at that. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Of course someone would want to look at Alna. Especially after how long she’d been unconscious.

“I’ll wait, then,” Marianna informed the nurse. She was a pretty woman, perhaps in her early thirties, who always looked pressed and professional. The nose piercing she wore and spiked pixie cut added a dash of personality; a hint of herself shining through her work persona.

Marianna turned away from the nurse, already intending to find somewhere to sit near Alna’s room, then hesitated. Turning around, she gave the woman a faint smile. “Thank you,” she said.

Now that she took a moment to think about it, Marianna realized she owed this woman. If only for her putting up with Marianna’s constant frantic nature and occasional panicked questions.

The nurse gave Marianna a kind look before turning to help a man that had approached her desk.

Marianna took a seat on one of the chairs in the lobby, noting that her knee was scraped, making it sting. She practically vibrated with impatience. Marianna told herself she would wait ten minutes before going to Alna’s room.

Those ten minutes seemed to stretch out into eternity. Marianna checked the time on her phone every thirty seconds to a minute, trying hard not to allow her agitation to show when the numbers seemed to change at a snail’s pace. At one point, Marianna received a text from Blaze, asking her where she’d taken off to. Feeling a little guilty, Marianna replied, Alna woke up. I’m at the hospital.

Gr8!!!! Blaze replied a moment later, along with a smiley face. How is she?

Don’t know yet. The doctors are with her or something. I’ll tell you later, Marianna promised.

1. C u later then. Ill let the girls kno.

Marianna sent back an affirmative and then added in a thumbs-up GIF for emphasis. Another few minutes completed Marianna’s ten-minute wait, and she all but leaped out of her chair, practically bolting down the white halls to Alna’s room. By the time Marianna stopped in front of Alna’s room, her heart was pounding, face flushed in anticipation. She eased the door open, hoping she wasn’t interrupting anything important.

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Not only was Alna awake and alert, but she was sitting propped against some white pillows, glacial eyes fixed on the door. Her pale lips quirked up at the sight of Marianna.

For a moment, Marianna froze. And then she was rushing forward, her hands coming to cup Alna’s face.

“Marianna,” Alna said, “I’m not sure you want to––”

But Marianna wasn’t listening. Her lips crashed against Alna’s in a desperate kiss, her hand going to the front of Alna’s hospital gown to pull her even closer. After only a few seconds, Marianna felt one of Alna’s hands press the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

It could have been seconds or minutes before they broke the kiss. Even then, Marianna didn’t pull away. Instead, she rested her forehead against Alna’s, breathing heavily.

“You were saying?” Marinna asked.

“I was going to say,” Alna replied, “that you may not want to kiss me. I have been unconscious for over a month––haven’t exactly had time to keep up with dental hygiene.”

Marianna laughed. “Don’t care,” she muttered, making no move to release the other girl.

They stayed like that for a moment, eyes locked as they soaked in the other’s presence. Standing there, feeling Alna’s breath brush against her face, was heaven for Marianna. After a minute or so, however, Marianna noticed the tremble in Alna’s arms. Concerned, Marianna stepped back, gripping Alna’s shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Marianna asked anxiously. “Do you need me to get a nurse?”

“No,” Alna said as she leaned back against her pillows, looking exhausted. “Although it seems I need to rest.”

“Oh,” Marianna breathed. “Right.”

That should have been obvious, Marianna chastised herself as she sat down in the chair next to Alna’s bed. People didn’t wake up after a month and a half of being unconscious ready to run a marathon. Alna looked much thinner now than she had before the crash, if such a thing was possible. Her cheeks were hollow, cheekbones even more prominent than they were before. Her arms were much too thin, the bones of her wrists determined to break through the skin.

Marianna didn’t care.

Alna was awake. She was alive. Nothing else seemed important.

“Don’t let me stop you from resting,” Marianna said.

Alna gave her a weak smile, pale lips dry and cracked. Wordlessly, she flipped her hand so it was palm up. Marianna grasped it.

Alna’s hair had some noticeable tangles in it and had grown out quite a bit since she’d been hospitalized. Marianna reached to run her fingers through the ebony tresses, Alna’s ever-watchful eyes following her.

“You look stressed,” Alna observed, eyes flicking down to Marianna’s knee. She looked concerned. Marianna’s lips quirked up at that. In her experience, Alna abhorred it when people stated the obvious, and here she was, doing exactly that.

“I was,” Marianna agreed, pulling her hand back as she resisted the urge to untangle Alna’s hair with her fingers. “But I’m okay now.”

“Someone’s a bit of a romantic,” Alna pointed out in a wry voice.

“Always, Miss Holt.” She gave Alna’s hand a light squeeze. Suddenly remembering something, Marianna turned in her seat, looking toward the door. “Do your parents know you’re awake yet? Are they coming?”

When Marianna turned back to her girlfriend, she was surprised to see she looked embarrassed. That emotion was generally reserved for her.

“It is rather selfish of me,” Alna said. “But I wanted some time alone with you before I reunite with my parents. I allowed the hospital to call them for me.”

Marianna’s heart warmed at that. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

“Although––and I do apologize for ruining the moment––there was another reason I wanted to see you first.”

Marianna gave Alna a reassuring look. “It’s okay. Why did you need to see me?”

Alna drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. Marianna watched her chest expand and deflate, eyes flickering to Alna’s face to check for signs of discomfort.

“I need to know what you have been telling people about what happened with Ashworth and Cope. If anyone asks me questions, our stories need to match.”

Marianna did just that, and it was a few minutes later that Mr. Holt showed up, eyes wide and clothes askew. He immediately rushed to envelope his daughter in his arms. Marianna took a couple of steps away from the bed to give father and daughter the illusion of privacy.

“Alna,” Mr. Holt said, voice muffled against Alna’s shoulder, “thank God.” He leaned away from the embrace enough to frame Alna’s face with his hands. Alna reached up, hugging him back.

Marianna glanced away, feeling like she was intruding.

“Alna, you have no idea how worried about you we were,” Mr. Holt continued, sounding near tears.

“I have a general idea,” Alna said in a matter-of-fact voice. And then, her voice softening in a way it only seemed to with people she cared about, she continued, “I apologize for worrying you. That was never my intention.”

As Mr. Holt assured his daughter it was all right, Marianna glanced toward the door, wondering not for the first time if she should leave for a few minutes and give the family some real privacy. However, just as she decided to do just that, Alna’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Marianna,” Alna called, bringing Marianna’s eyes to her. “Come here, please.” She extended a pale hand toward her girlfriend. Marianna immediately made her way over and grasped Alna’s hand.

As Marianna took a seat on the bed at Alna’s subtle suggestion, Mrs. Holt burst into the hospital room, looking even more frazzled than her husband. For a moment, she froze, her wide eyes landing on Alna with the desperation of a starving woman. And then she rushed forward, stopping next to Alna’s bed. Unlike her husband (and Marianna), Mrs. Holt didn’t immediately pull Alna into a hug, but she did grip Alna’s hand––so hard that her knuckles turned white.

“Alna Holt,” Mrs. Holt scolded, her voice wavering, “if you ever scare me like that again, so help me God, I will ground you until you are thirty.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Alna said, her tone consoling.

Despite Alna’s aloof aura, Marianna could see that her parents’ reactions were getting to her. Alna’s hand flexed, tightening around Marianna’s for a few seconds before loosening. There was a sparkle in Alna’s eyes––unshed tears. Marianna squeezed her hand.

Mrs. Holt leaned forward to wrap her arms around Alna with more care than Mr. Holt had. It must have something to do with her being a surgeon, Marinna realized, her eyes darting to Alna’s IV drip. Mrs. Holt was certainly more aware of what condition Alna would be in than either of them.

“You didn’t bring Colton or Evan,” Alna pointed out after a while.

“No.” Mrs. Holt rested her hand on top of her husband’s, which was currently gripping Alna’s other hand. “I found someone to cover for me at the hospital and asked Carrie to look after the boys for a few hours once school’s done; it’s not good for you to be overwhelmed after waking up.”

“I would not have been overwhelmed,” Alna said, sounding annoyed.

Mrs. Holt gave her a knowing smile and reached out to stroke Alna’s hair. It needed a cut, Marianna observed. And a good combing.

“I know, honey,” Mrs. Holt assured her. “But, as a doctor, I thought it’d be better if you saw your brothers later.”

Alna paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. And then, grudgingly: “I suppose I can’t argue with that logic.”

The three lingered in Alna’s room for at least a half an hour after that––in which time Marianna remembered that she should call her parents and did just that. Her mother sounded pleased at Alna’s awakening in a polite, distant sort of way. Even as she tried to hide it––this time––Marianna knew her mother was no more open to her and Alna’s relationship.

Nonetheless, Mom put up no fight about Marianna missing school and instead told Marianna to call her when she was ready to go home.

When Marianna approached Alna’s bed once more after her call, Alna was looking at her with a slight furrow between her brows. Marianna immediately reached out to touch the back of her hand.

“You okay?” she asked.

Alna nodded absently. She gave Marianna a contemplative look.

“Mom, Dad,” Alna said, turning to her parents, “would you mind giving a few minutes alone with Marianna?”

Both Holts’ faces turned anxious at their daughter’s request. Mrs. Holt’s eyes darted between Alna and Marianna, no doubt trying to figure out its cause. Marianna, confused herself, peered at Alna’s face, looking for anything that would show what she wanted to talk about. Did she want more details on Marianna’s cover story? Marianna thought she’d been thorough enough. Perhaps that wasn’t the case.

“Sure,” Mr. Holt agreed after a long, drawn-out pause. His voice was heavy with obvious reluctance. “Five minutes?”

Alna nodded her head, her face giving away nothing. “That should suffice.”

Mrs. Holt touched her daughter’s shoulder lightly. “Try not to stress yourself out. That’s the last thing any of us need right now.”

“Of course.” Alna waited until her parents exited the room and then turned to Marianna, her lips pursed and a wary look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Alna?” Marianna asked. She held Alna’s hand in her own, careful not to shift the IV drip attached to it.

“Plenty of things,” Alna said, a glint of humor appearing in her eyes. As quickly as it had appeared, the humor disappeared, replaced with a serious look. “Marianna, how badly were you injured?”

“Oh,” Marianna said, having not expected that. Although it made sense, she supposed. “Nowhere near as bad as you.” Alna’s face didn’t change. “I have a scar,” Marianna admitted, reaching up to touch her left shoulder. “And one bullet came pretty close to hitting me.”

Alna drew in a sharp breath, as if in physical pain. Her eyes dropped closed.

“But it’s okay now,” Marianna was quick to assure her. “I’m okay; you’re gonna get better. Ms. Ashworth and Mr. Cope are in jail. There’s nothing more to worry about.”

“There is plenty to worry about,” Alna retorted, opening her eyes. They fixed on Marianna intently. “It was because you were with me that you were placed in danger in the first place.” Marianna opened her mouth to rebuke Alna, but the look in Alna’s eyes––somewhere between determined and imploring––stopped her. “Which is why I would not blame you if you terminated our relationship. It would be completely logical.”

Silence stretched out between them. Marianna could hear a distant roaring in her ears and wondered if it was possible for someone to hear their own blood flow. She drew in a long breath and let it out, trying to tamp down her sudden exasperation.

“Alna, aren’t you supposed to be some kind of prodigy?”

Alna eyed her warily, her gaze flicking up and down Marianna before refocusing on her face. Clearly, she was reading the signs Marianna was giving off––reading her mood. It was possible she had an idea where this conversation was going.

“Yes,” Alna responded, sounding cautious.

It might have been funny, Alna being intimidated by Marianna, if she hadn’t been trying to hold herself back from exploding at her girlfriend.

“Then read me,” Marianna ordered, spreading her arms out a bit and taking a tiny step back so Alna could see her better. “Do I look like I want to break up with you?”

“No,” Alna admitted, that humorous glint appearing in her eyes.

Marianna said nothing to that, silently urging her on.

Alna continued, “You think me rather idiotic right now, and, judging by your exhausted posture and reddened eyes, you are tired. Meaning your patience has been worn to the quick.” Marianna nodded, confirming this. “More problems at home, likely. And…concern for me.” Again, she nodded. “You have taken on a rather defensive tone and posture.” Alna’s eyes flicked to Marianna’s arms, which she had crossed at some point. The briefest hint of a smile appeared on Alna’s face. “You do not want to break up with me and look as though you intend to fight me on this should I choose to do it myself.”

“I do,” Marianna confirmed, stepping forward. She reached out to grasp Alna’s chin, forcing eye contact. “Alna, I’m not breaking up with you, and you’re not, either. Not unless you have a better reason than that.” Marianna pressed a soft kiss to Alna’s lips, feeling the other return the gesture. “I like you, Alna. And if you still like me, I want to keep being your girlfriend. Besides,” she continued, “it was my decision to help you with your case. You didn’t force me to do anything. In fact, you gave me plenty of opportunities to back out. I was in danger because of my own decisions, and I don’t regret it.”

Alna was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching Marianna’s face. And then, with a soft smile, she proclaimed, “Ms. Whitlock, I must say, your logic is rather sound,” and connected their lips once more.