Thin Love (15 page)

He caught the small movement of Keira twisting her silver ring around her pinky. Her fingers were long, thin and the nail beds were smooth and trim. He shifted his eyes up, trapped her stare. There were only inches separating their faces and Kona took that moment to watch the gray flecks in her irises, at the smooth arch of her eyebrows. That face took away his worry, made him forget where he was, why he was there. “So what happens, happens, huh? And… you being here right now?”

Kona was fascinated by the small gleam on her lips. He thought she was going to argue, to tell him this meant nothing, but then Keira’s mouth closed and those big eyes softened. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Around them, other families congregated into the waiting room. More sickness, more chaos, but Kona couldn’t make himself focus on anything but the sweet smell of her breath and how warm it felt against his face.

“I’m sorry I stole a kiss.” He wasn’t sorry. In fact, just then, he wanted to try again. That night in her dorm, just the hint of her on his tongue had nearly wrecked him and Kona spent the rest of that night telling himself it wasn’t as unbelievable as it was. He was getting good at lying to himself.

Keira’s grin was sweet, wasn’t mocking, and he liked how close there were, didn’t want her brushing off the flash of energy heating between them. “You told me. Before I even went there, you told me not to expect anything and I jumped you.”

“That was you jumping me?”

“Well, no.” His laugh was the break they needed, pulled them apart so that he could breathe again, so that he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss her. “You get what I’m saying.” She still had no idea what she did to him. “I never have to try with girls. You… shit, Keira, you make me work for it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“True enough,” he said, bringing his shoulder to hers, just a small bump that brought back the flash. “The chase.”

“Freaking Lancelot.”

She leaned toward him and he thought it was another moment. He thought she was giving in, telling him with the dip of her eyes on his mouth that she didn’t think he was less; that she wanted him to meet her, take her lips again. But she’d kept him calm. She’d taken the frays of his panic and held him together.

What am I doing?

He couldn’t mess that up. She’d stood by him without him asking and he knew, because of who he was, because of the rules he’d given himself, that he couldn’t have Keira Riley. He couldn’t be enough for her.

“Mr. Hale?”

The ICU nurse was all business. Keira and the moment of them staring at each other, slipping toward something real, him running from their potential, all faded away as he walked over to the nurses’ station.

“How is he?”

“Dr. Michaels will be in to talk to you in a moment. Your grandfather is stable.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, kept her attention on the blinking lights of the phone and Kona stood there, trying to follow Keira’s advice, trying to be calm, cool.

“Can I see him?”

The nurse picked up the phone when it rang again and silenced Kona with her index finger pointed up, wordlessly telling him to give her a minute. He didn’t realize he was growling, didn’t notice that weird, frustrated sound was coming from his throat until the nurse’s sharp eyes snapped to him.

Keira elbowed him, mumbled “Calm down, Cujo,” before Dr. Michaels finally made an appearance.

The man was tall, lanky, but Kona knew he had at least five inches on him and so the scowl that wrinkled the doctor’s green eyes didn’t have the effect the man may have wanted. He pulled his fingers through the graying blonde hair and his face pinched up when he glanced between Kona and Keira. “Your grandfather had a mild heart attack.” The doctor’s voice was impassive with the hint of boredom. Kona felt the words move right through him. He had no bedside manner. There wasn’t anything gentle, anything approaching sympathy in his expression. “We’ll need to do surgery to know for sure, but from what I’ve seen so far, he has a blockage.”

It was Keira’s hand in his, squeezing, telling him she was right there with him that kept Kona from losing the small grip he had on his cool. He felt the burn of tears starting behind his eyelids, but managed to keep them on his lashes with a hard squint. The thick knot in his throat, though, wouldn’t go away.

“When will he go in?” Kona watched that silver ring Keira wore. It had intricate knots like a rope and reminded him of a fairy.

“We’ll be prepping him in just a few minutes. He’s unconscious and heavily sedated.”

Kona knew that meant Tutu kane wouldn’t know he was there. Dr. Michaels was telling him to sit tight and not get in the way. “Alright.”

“Does your mother know where you are?” This, the doctor directed at Keira and Kona heard the question for what it really was.
Does your mother know you’re with this boy?

Keira’s hand fell away from his and Kona kept his disappointment to himself. He wouldn’t let her see how much he liked the sensation of their fingers locked together. That was stupid. That was weak and Kona was ripped open enough for one day.
Let her run,
he thought.

“She doesn’t.”

“Then maybe you should go home, Keira.” It was spoken more like a suggestion than demand, but the warning in the man’s voice was heavy with insistence.

Keira folded her arms, moved her chin to challenge her stepfather. “Kona’s my friend, Steven, and until his people get here, I’m not leaving.”

“My friend.” The words were there, bouncing around in Kona’s head when the doctor walked away. Maybe it was just something to say, something she knew would piss off her stepfather, but Kona thought she meant it. He wasn’t sure why that made him smile. He wasn’t sure “friend” would be the word he’d used to describe Keira - but he was awfully glad she had.

“Your stepdad is kind of a dick,” he told her, pulling his lips between his teeth to bury his smile.

Keira kept her eyelids narrowed as she watched the doctor talk to the nurses, prepare the others to bring his tutu kane up to surgery. A pulse twitched in Keira’s top lip, a little quirk that had Kona’s smile retreating.

“He has expectations.” She finally looked at him and that twitch worked double time. “They all do.”

Keira’s gaze moved from his face, over his shoulder and Kona followed, to see his mother quickly advancing on them from the elevator doors. She quickly wrapped Kona in her arms.

Professor Alana smelled like vanilla and her soft hair brushed against his face when she hugged him. “Keiki kane… keiki kane,” she said twice, under her breath, like saying “son” over and over in Hawaiian was a mantra of comfort, a balm meant for them both.

Luka was there, too, t-shirt and jeans rumpled, his thick black hair sticking up in different directions and his eyes red as Kona offered his twin a nod, a quick glance that Kona hoped would ease his twin.

“What happened?” his mother asked, pulling out of his arms, her face lined with worry, and a fear that Kona couldn’t ever remember seeing her wear before. Underneath her black framed glasses, Kona could see that her makeup was smudged and clumpy. By the wrinkles of her linen suit he knew she’d rushed to get here from campus.

“Heart attack.”

Their reactions were quick—his mother’s gasp, her hands covering her mouth as she tried to silence her alarm; Luka stumbled where he stood, his arms instantly working into a tremble. And then, Kona relayed what Dr. Michaels had told him, felt stupid and pointless doing it. For a second he thought he’d ask Keira to explain it better, but she had stepped away from them, had become a shadow when Kona’s mother approached.

Thankfully Dr. Michaels came out to the nurses’ station just then, and explained to Professor Alana the details that Kona had been too confused, too exhausted to understand. Luka shuffled behind them, listening intently. Keira was still invisible, watching his mother, squinting when her stepfather gave the woman distracted, convoluted clarifications.

“He
is
a dick,” Keira confirmed, sliding back to his side. “See how he’s looking at her?” Kona nodded, moved his head so he could watch how the doctor’s face was pinched, how he gestured when he spoke. “That’s him dumbing down your grandfather’s condition. He doesn’t think your mom will understand him. That’s classic pretentious Steven.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” Kona took Keira’s hand and they leaned side by side on the wall to get a clearer view. “Watch this.”

They couldn’t hear the conversation, but Kona recognized his mother’s expression. One slim eyebrow lifted and she tilted her head, staring over the oval glasses she wore. That was her “don’t fuck with me” look and it worked, like always. Dr. Michaels swallowed, then rubbed his neck when Kona’s mother took a step, when that fearsome glare became a silent threat.

“Damn,” was all Keira could manage.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Kona knew he shouldn’t smile at Keira. His focus should be on Luka, on his mother who listened as Dr. Michaels fidgeted around his explanations. But it was hard not to want to step closer to Keira.

Suddenly his mother left the doctor, expression closed off, stride confident, steady, as she moved toward her new target. She was going to take back the reins Keira had held in her absence. Kona knew the look his mother gave Keira. It was the same look she gave anyone that disappointed her. He’d seen her stare at Luka like that their whole life.

“I’m here now, Ms. Riley and this is a private matter. It’s best you go.”

But Keira wasn’t shaken by the command in his mother’s voice. She blinked twice and sighed, as though she wasn’t surprised by the attitude. Kona felt lost, looking between them. Despite how stupid it sounded in his head, he needed Keira to stay.

“You want me to stick around?” she asked him, completely disregarding how close his mother moved toward her, how fierce her glare became.

“Ms. Riley, I don’t think you understand—”

“Kona?” she interrupted, looking up at him. “You want me to stick around or not?” No one had ever dismissed his mother like that and Kona was impressed. His smile was answer enough for her. “I can stay.”

His mother challenged her with another hard look but Keira didn’t flinch. He had never seen her that way before—adamant, fearless— and Kona wondered if it had been their waiting together for the bad news he knew would come; her holding him up when he showed weakness, that had stiffened Keira’s nerve, that had her challenging both their families.

Keira Riley was a live wire, jerking and sharp, and part of him wanted to see if she would burn him. Part of him wanted to know what it felt like to hold that wire in his hands.

But he knew being with her, touching her, letting her hold him up again would only bury him deeper. He didn’t want deep. He wanted simple. He wanted easy. Nothing about Keira would ever be easy.

His mother cleared her throat and Kona took that for the warning it was; her letting him know she wasn’t happy. He didn’t need the drama of the two women playing tug of war for his attention.

“Keira, it’s cool. I’m fine now, really. Thank you.” And with that, his mother smiled and she and Luka walked away, made for one of the small tables in the waiting area.

For her part, Keira seemed unaffected by his slight dismissal. She was good with that, bending to the change in his attitude.

“Okay. Well, I hope everything works out.” She pushed off of the wall and Kona walked her down to the lobby. The parking lot was dark and there was a small group of smokers lingering near a courtyard, the plumes of their smokes circling above them. Kona didn’t want her on her own, but his family was inside, his grandfather’s life in the hands of an asshole. Like she had all afternoon, Keira seemed to notice the anxiety rise back to straighten his shoulders. “Go back inside, it’s fine.” When he didn’t budge, she pulled his chin down. “Go. I’ll be okay. My car is just a couple rows down and security monitors the parking lot.”

Keira let her hand linger on his cheek and when she tried to lower it, Kona caught her fingers, kept them there. That live wire felt too warm, and he wanted to burn, just a little.

“Thank you,” he told her, this time with more feeling, as his fingers curled around her hand. And before he could stop her, before he realized he should stop her, Keira lifted up on the balls of her feet and kissed him right on the mouth. He was too surprised to push her away, then too sated to tell himself he should. It was over and she was gone before he could kiss her back. He watched her walk away wondering how he’d convince himself that Keira’s lips weren’t the sweetest things he’d ever tasted.

If music and liquor filled the hearts of New Orleanians, it was football that made those hearts pump faster. In southeast Louisiana, football was a religion and Keira found herself standing outside of her university’s resident monastery—a place she thought she’d never enter—determined to ask Kona about his rough draft.

The team house was a mammoth, red American four square with a large porch and wide, brick steps. Filtered around those steps were groups of students, mostly girls, circling a player or two like good worshippers, hoping for a scrap of humor or a quick, flirtatious smile. If it weren’t for the rows of empty beer cans lining the faded white banisters and the dead potted mums flicking dried petals in the wind, the team house might look almost welcoming.