I could tell Hayden was biting his tongue in pain. I pulled my hand away and he gave me another hug. I watched where I put my arms, as to not touch whatever was hurting him.

“You want to come back to my house?” he asked me.


“Cuz, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry, I could really go for some hot choco and Linguini.”


You know how to make Linguini?” I asked, astounded that guys can make anything more than ice.

“Yeah. Don’t make fun of me,” he turned to make sure I wouldn’t laugh, “but I’m sort of a really good cook.”

“Oh please,” I gave him a quick kiss, “I love guys that can cook.”

He smiled and took my hand as we made our way to his house. Not a word was spoken the entire trip back, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“My dad’s really cool, you’ll like him. And my younger brother, he’s in sixth grade.” he said as we entered our street.

“What about your mom?”

“She died in the same car crash that cracked my rib.”

View this story's 3 comments.