It All Started With An Apple

Chapter 37

I threw open the car door and jogged up Dannon’s porch.  I pounded on the front door as Kyla headed slowly toward the house, seeming self-conscious.  I didn’t quit understand why.  Like I said earlier: she was right at home the first time she went to Aunt Jill’s with us.  Maybe it was because there was a chance that Dannon wasn’t well. 

Hell, it wasn’t a chance that he wasn’t well—it was definite.  Cancer didn’t exactly make you well.

“Dannon, come on, answer the door!” I shrieked, becoming frantic as my hand continued to slam painfully onto his front door.  Gosh, I was becoming such a ninny.  Whatever that was. 

After what seemed like ages, the door opened and Dannon appeared.  I paused, mid-pound, completely taken aback.  His face was flushed, matching his irritated and rosy red nose.  He was sweating horribly, his hair clinging to the sides of his face as he breathed deeply, his breaths sounding labored.  He was the definition of ill-looking.  “Brianne,” he murmured, his voice sounding hoarse as though he was losing his voice.  “What are you doing here?”

Despite the fact that he was sweaty and clammy, I threw my arms over him, muttering profanities under my breath.  “You didn’t answer your phone!” I hissed, glaring at him.  “Why must you insist on worrying me to pieces?”

Dannon smiled, pulling away from me and turning to Kyla.  He looked between us, the smile growing on his face.  “Shouldn’t you two girls be in school right about now?”

I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest.  “You look like shit.”

Dannon chuckled.  “Why thank you.  I didn’t notice.”

Kyla stepped onto the porch, looking relieved.  She smiled slightly, her hands going into her jacket pockets.  “Why weren’t you answering your phone?” she asked, her eyebrows rising.

Dannon’s smile remained.  “It died and I can’t find the charger.  My dad cleaned the house, so I’m going to have to ask him where he put it.”  His eyes met mine.  “I’m sorry for worrying you.  It’s just the common cold.”

Common cold?  More like common cold on steroids.

I grumbled under my breath.  Dannon smiled, reaching out and patting my shoulder comfortingly.  Then he pushed open the door further as though inviting us inside.  “If you two want to come in you can,” Dannon said cheerfully.  “Beware, my germs are everywhere.”

Kyla and I stepped inside, and Dannon shut the door softly behind us.  I looked around, smiling at the familiarity.  Kyla’s eyes were devouring everything, seeming shocked at how normal his house was.  I knew I’d been shocked at his house, but she looked absolutely appalled.  If this were a cartoon, her eyes would be bulging from her skull.  She looked like she wanted to say many things to Dannon, but all she said was this: “There are a lot of pictures here.”

Dannon chuckled softly, squeezing past us and sauntering toward the living room.  I followed automatically, leaving Kyla to scurry after us.  “Yeah, my mom and dad liked photography.”

“They don’t still?”

It was then that I realized that in all of this time neither of Dannon nor I had clued her in on the fact that his mother was dead.  Suddenly I felt guilty—I’d completely forgotten to tell her.  I mean, I knew about it for so long that it seemed like everyone should have known, too.  My bad.

“Well,” Dannon said, his voice light, “my mom died when I was three, but my dad still likes photography.”

In an instant, Kyla flushed, looking completely and utterly embarrassed.  “I’m so sorry,” she squeaked out.  “I didn’t know—”