Kennedy's P.O.V
MY EYES FLUTTERED open as a sharp pain in my neck erupted like a volcano.
I lifted my head from its awkward sleeping position and rubbed out the crook in my neck.
Looking down at my body, I was in a hospital bed, in nothing but a stiff white and blue spotted gown. I shifted myself up to a sitting position.
As I do this, my left leg feels heavy, heavier than normal. I peek under the sheet, a white cast envelops my leg, from knee to toe.
Last night flew back to me in pieces.
Caiden and I out in the rain.
Me walking away.
Picking up my car from home, I drove.
Getting out at the beach.
Grabbing my board from the backseat.
The wind and rain eating me alive.
I paddled out.
I surfed.
A massive wave crashed over me, the wind and impact pushing me off my board.
The struggle.
My lungs on fire.
Another wave.
Then another.
And another.
I hit a rock.
Pain explodes through my leg.
Blackness seeping in through the corners of my vision.
The surfing had felt good, I admit, I needed it. It's like nothing else matters when I'm riding a wave.
I knew it was utterly stupid to surf last night, it's common sense, but I had wanted to. I didn't think anything major would happen to me, I guess that part was kinda wrong.
Footsteps coming down the hallway outside the room, jolt me back into reality. My stomach grumbles, I hope someone's coming to give me the fattest burger on the planet.
The door pushes open and Caiden appears holding a bottle of water.
He stops and almost drops the bottle. "Your awake," he says, noting my upright position and watchful eyes.
My heart begins to ache at just the sight of him. I want to say, he can't be here, that I don't want him here. Instead, I settle for, "What are you doing here?"
His hair is messy, the curls untamed. My hand itches to run through it. Traitor. "How could I not be h-"
"Leave," I cut him off.
"Kennedy, I-"
"I want you to leave."
We stared at each other in an odd way, as if it were a silent argument. Our glances battled each other until he broke away.
"I know you don't want to see me." He stared at the floor, twisting the bottle around and around in his hands.
He looked up again, those hazel eyes meeting my vibrant green ones. "What I did was fucked up, and I wouldn't want to see me either but-"
"Caiden." I squeezed my eyes shut. "Just leave, please." My voice cracks.
My heartache had rung me out until I was dry and hollow inside, I forced myself not to cry. My insides still felt as raw as if a winter wind was blowing right through my skin.
The last conversation haunted me, taunted me, replaying like an echo. My appetite had dwindled to nothing. All the brightness in this room came from the lights, instead of hopping over on one leg, I decided to keep the curtains closed so that I wouldn't have to witness life going on as usual. How could it when my world had crumbled?
And when I open my eyes again, he's gone.
Fifteen minutes later, Dad, mum, and Sage come in the same way Caiden had. As soon as they see me wide awake, they stand there, stuck to the floor like statues.
Mum breaks through the glue first. She practically runs to my side, pulling me into a hug. I gasp for air, her arms squeezing out all my oxygen.
"Don't you ever do that again," She grabbed my face in her hands, forcing my eyes to meet hers. "Promise me."
Honestly, that was the most reckless thing I've done. "I promise." She lets go of my face and gently rubs over the spot she had grasped onto.
Dad rolls in beside mum. "If it weren't for Sage, you wouldn't be here today."
I look over to the door, where my fourteen-year-old brother stands. He walks over to stand at the end of the bed. "Thank you," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry."
"You should be." Sage grimaces. "I had to resuscitate you."
My eyes widen in horror, I gag and wipe harshly at my lips. Dad laughs, the sound filling the dull room.
"Did you see Caiden?" Mum asks, tucking my hair neatly behind my ears. "He's been here each day, for hours, waiting with you."
"Sweet kid," Dad adds. "He cares a lot about you."
Shaking my head, I look at the door, avoiding everyone's gazes. "No, he doesn't."
"What are you talking about Kennedy?" Mum asked, confused.
"I broke up with him."
I sense my parents glance at each other. "Sage? can we have a minute with your sister?" Dad asks, though it's more like a demand.
Sage looks at me with an urge to confess something. "Yeah, sure," he said instead and left me alone with them.
"So you two broke up?" Mum clarifies.
"Yeah."
"How come?"
I try to swallow the lump forming in my throat, it's no use. "I don't want to talk about this." My voice cracking once again. I won't cry over him. I won't.
Dad rolls his wheelchair closer to the bed. "Kenji."
At the sound of my beloved nickname, I look up from staring at my hands. I remember the day it was first used again, but I also recall the day he stopped calling me that.
"Did this happen because of him?"
"I'm sorry okay," I ignore the question, afraid it'll just cause more pain. "I know it was a stupid thing to do."
Mum straightens up, fuming slightly. "Yes, it was a stupid thing to do. When we got the call from Sage, we almost had a heart attack, you can't just-"
"Stop," dad cuts mum off. "I would like to talk to Kennedy, alone," he scolds her like a child.
They have a silent argument, but at loss, mum leaves.
"You don't have to hide these things. You can talk to me." Dad gives me a small smile. "We're more alike than you may think."
"He used to be a player," I answer quietly. "I thought he changed."
My eyes become wet, fuck. I think back to the kiss last night, his one of many attempts to get me to realize what we have is real.
And god it felt real, it really did.
The pain in my chest grows larger. "I really liked him, dad."
"From what I can see you still do." He reaches over to wipe the tears I didn't know even know were falling down my cheeks. "He does too."
"No." I shake my head. "What he did, isn't something you can just do to a person."
He sighs. "Kenji, he was here wasn't he?"
My eyebrows knit together.
"He sat in this chair for hours, waiting for you to wake up. From what I saw during that time, he was tearing himself up inside." Dad elaborates.
"If he didn't care he wouldn't have come. If he played you, then why come back to a finished game?"
"I-I." No words come out of my mouth. Another tear drops down, landing on my hand. I look down at my fingers, twiddling with the hem of the sheet.
Dad's right.
"Why, out of all the things you could've done. Why go surfing?" The question was gentle, caring.
I lift my eyes to meet my fathers. "Why did you do it?" I hiccuped, tears rolling down with the same quietness.
My question takes him by surprise, the sad and knowing look in his eyes tells me I don't need to explain further.
Dad fixes his jeans, refolding the limp empty ends over the stubs, where his legs end.
"It was shark season, dad. Shark season, you knew!" The tears continue, as I pour out what has been locked in the back of my mind since the accident.
He sighed wiping his own tears. "And you knew the dangers of the storms."
"You never told me, or Sage. What happened that day, why you did it."
We're both silent for a few minutes. Dad looks with a curious slowness, toward the door, where mum recently left.
"I knew what season it was." He succumbed. "Your mother and I had a fight. I wanted to forget, surfing does that for me."
"Yeah. I wanted to forget too."
He gives me another small smile and comfortingly squeezes my hand.
A/N: Bruv, I love the dad. He's like, the coolest.
Schoooools out! Hopefully I can wrap up this book before the year ends, then I've got another one in store for y'all.