Immune-ish

Chapter Three

EVA:

"Eva?" I hear someone ask, interrupting my sleep. "Are you okay?"

I open my eyes to find a blond with perfectly messed up hair and vibrant green eyes. "Max," I breathe, trying to keep calm. He always sends my heart racing.

He smiles his crooked smile, though his eyes tell of concern. "Yep. Are you okay?"

I sit up and survey my surroundings in utter confusion. I'm in my own bed, tucked in the way I was when I was younger. My parents and Miss Hampson stand against the wall across from me. Why am I here?

"Uh." I struggle to answer, finding it hard to remember why I wouldn't be okay. "Yeah, I think so. What exactly happened?"

Everyone shares a look, then go back to watching me with wary eyes. Surveying my arms, legs, and torso, I find absolutely nothing wrong. I place my hand on top of my head and it comes back sticky, wet, and . . . red. It seems that the bleeding has stopped, though. But what caused all the blood? I stare at them, awaiting an answer to my silent question. The last thing I remember is choosing Lucy to be my partner for a fight.

Finally, Max answers. "Well," he starts. "You and Lucy were fighting and then you forfeited and she got mad and hit you as hard as she could and you were bleeding and you passed out and then I carried you home." His words come out in a rush and it takes me a minute to completely understand. And then I remember.

"Ugh," I say. "Lucy is the worst."

Miss Hampson who has been silent finally speaks, but her words are unnecessary. "Lucy is a fantastic student," she says, her tone defensive. Lucy is such a suck-up and adults can never see how truly evil she is.

I just roll my eyes in response. Now is not the time to argue with my teacher.

"Well," my dad says, clasping his hands together. "I guess she's okay now. It's time for you to go, Max."

I groan and glare at my father. My dad can't stand the fact that a boy my age is in his house, especially not if he's in my room. I can take care of myself. Why can't you just let him stay? He's not hurting anything! I almost wish he could hear my thoughts, but that would just cause me more trouble.

Max looks from my father's glare to me and back again. He clears his throat and says, "Oh, yeah. Looks like it is time to go." He points at the door.

"No," I moan. "Please stay, Max?"

My father glares at him long enough to scare him closer to the door. This isn't the first time it's happened, either.

"Sorry, Eva," Max says. "I really have to go." He starts to walk out the door.

"Wait," I say. Max stops. "At least let me be a good host and walk you to the door." It's the least I could do after he carried me home. And any excuse to hang out with him is a good one.

He nods and helps me out of bed. My hip doesn't hurt anymore, but my head sure does. We walk together down the stairs and to the front door, me putting most of my weight on him. My parents take a hint and stay behind, my dad doing it begrudgingly. I have no clue why, but thankfully, so does Miss Hampson.

I can hear Max's breathing as he guides me down. I bet carrying me home took a lot out of him and I want so badly to apologize, but I know he wouldn't want to hear it. He'd say it was his pleasure.

The last time Max was here was a few years ago, before the pool closed down. Sophie and I had gone swimming while Max was there. I didn't know how to swim, but there was no way I was going to admit that to my crush or my best friend. On a dare, I tried to do a dive off the diving board.

I did that part without injury, but once I was in the water, I started to panic. I didn't have any air left in my lungs and I couldn't pull myself to the surface. I gulped in water and started thrashing around, causing a scene. Max saved me from drowning, jumping in after me and pulling me to the edge of the pool. Then he took me home. My crush saved my life, something most other girls can't say. And now he's at my house, for the same reason as the first time. Why do I always get hurt in front of him?

Back at the front door, we stop. "Thank you for taking me home," I say. "Again." I smile sheepishly.

He chuckles knowingly. "No problem." He stares into my eyes. "Man, your dad has a problem with me, doesn't he?"

I smile. "Not just you. He hates pretty much every boy our age." Even though there aren't very many left after first grade.

He brushes a lock of brown hair behind my ear. I can tell its matted down with blood, but he doesn't seem to care. He starts to lean in and . . .

Heath walks in from the kitchen and interrupts, of course. "You okay, Eva?" he asks. He must have taken off work once he heard about my injuries, along with my father. Families tend to stick together more closely since the apocalypse began, and my family is no different.

I stare at him in horror. "Yep." I glare, hoping he understands.

He smiles mischievously. "Oh, I get it." Heath goes upstairs, but not before winking at me and revealing the impish grin on his face to Max, whose cheeks flare red in return.

I turn back to Max and he smiles again, the blush still on his face. "Where were we?" he asks.

I turn his head, meaning to give him a peck on the cheek because Heath has ruined the moment, but at the last second he turns his head back. Our lips touch. His touch on my cheeks is gentle, and his lips are sweet. I twist my arms over his shoulders and his hands fall on my waist. I've never done this before, but everything comes so naturally. Like we are meant to be. When we are finished, I am left gasping for air.

He smiles crookedly at me, and I smile like a goof at him, a blush heating up my cheeks to match his. This is the best day of my life!

I've known Max for a really long time and we've been pretty good friends for a while, but there's been something about him I've liked since I first met him. This is what love is supposed to feel like.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that," he finally says. Does that mean he loves me?

I grin as wide as I ever have and we kiss again.