Breaking the Surface (A Yellow Wood Series Book 2) by Ring Andrea

Author:Ring, Andrea [Ring, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Square Gorilla Press
Published: 2013-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty: KATE

Three days after my surgery, I recover vision in my right eye. But my left is still gone.

My brain will not accept this.

I continually catch myself opening my eyes up as wide as they'll go, as if that will help.

My hand won't stop rubbing my left eye, as if there's something covering it and all I have to do is brush the obstacle away.

And since I can't put my contacts in right now, I'm wearing my glasses, which I haven't done on a regular basis since the sixth grade. My face sweats underneath the frames, and I get a huge zit on the bridge of my nose.

It's frustrating, to say the least.

At least I can draw a circle now, for which I should be grateful.

But I can't be grateful. I'm half-blind, and I don't fucking want to be grateful. I'm pissed.

My parents have never annoyed me, but they're annoying me now.

They hover. They whisper. They pat me and baby me. I just want to tell them to leave me the fuck alone and let me heal.

Kenneth is the worst.

I know what I look like—I made Mom give me a mirror. I have a shaved head, a honking zit on my nose, and a devil eye.

But the first thing Kenneth does when he sees me is kiss my sweaty cheek and tell me how beautiful I look.

"That's a load of crap," I tell him.

"So you're happy to see me," he says.

I sigh. "Sorry. But I don't need any bullshit right now. I need the blunt Kenneth."

He looks me in the eye. "You're fucking beautiful, Kate."

A tear slips out of my dead eye. "Wouldn't you rather be out doing something, like hypothesizing, or acing a test, or building a campfire or some shit?"

"I'm perfectly happy right here, thanks," he says.

"You're brain dead," I say. "You don't need to be here."

"I've been called many things, but brain dead's not one of them."

"I'm terribly insightful," I say.

"Then you know you're just upset about your condition, and not about me."

I scrunch my eyes closed and open them back up. Still no sight on the left. "Take a hike, Kenneth."

He leans in close. I can feel his breath on my cheek. "You're secretly counting on my infinite patience," he says. "I'm going to oblige you." He sits in the chair next to my bed and folds his hands in his lap. "Let's talk about something to get your mind off things. Like us. Let's talk about us."

"There is no us," I mumble, but he ignores me.

"You should be out of here in a few days, and then home for a week or so, maybe two. That's about three weeks of waiting. I'm a patient guy, but that's probably my limit."

"Waiting for what?" I ask.

"You. For you and me to...get closer."

Another tear glides down my cheek. Kenneth reaches out and brushes it away.

"You're all I can think about. Now that I have the opportunity, well, let's just say my imagination has gotten a little carried away.

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