Embracing Rain

12 - Noah

1 2 - N O A H

When I wake up the next morning, my head feels much clearer, though I still feel slightly feverish. But that doesn't stop me from feeling extremely accomplished, because I just woke up in my own bed after sleeping for the whole night. Without waking up. At all. Not even once.

"Hey," Chance says, smiling up at me from where he's lying on the floor. I hadn't realized he was awake, but he looks pretty alert, so I assume he's been up for a while. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," I say, my tone disbelieving. "Oh my gosh, Chance, I just slept for a whole night! Without waking up! In my own bed!"

"You did!" he agrees, smiling. He looks almost as excited as I feel, and his acknowledgement makes me feel all nice and fuzzy inside. Anyone else would have belittled my sense of accomplishment, either on accidentally or on purpose, reminding me that people do that regularly, but he acknowledged it and didn't make me feel worse about myself.

It really is nice to be able to open up to someone without fearing that they'll make me feel bad about it. I even have a hard time with opening up to Emma—not because I think she'll make me feel bad about myself, but because she knows my parents well, and I don't want her telling them anything. She wouldn't do it intentionally, of course, but she tends to run her mouth without thinking about what she's saying. And there are some things that I just don't want them to know.

"Want to go get some breakfast?" I ask him, my eyes drawn to the way he rubs his eyes sleepily and yawns. Maybe he isn't quite alert as I thought, and I find it strangely endearing. But I push away the melty, fuzzy feeling I get in my chest, not wanting to think about what it might mean. I can worry about that later.

"Yeah," he says. "That sounds good." He sits up, the blanket he used falling off his chest, and I can't help but smile at how he looks wearing my oversized shirt. Oversized on me, at least. It's a bit small on him. But still. It's the thought that counts, right?

"Here," I say, tossing him one of my sweatshirts after I sit up. When I try to stand up and walk, my vision spins and I have to grab at the wall for support. But while I certainly don't like the sudden dizzy spell, it doesn't make me quite as afraid as it did even yesterday. Something about talking it out really, really helped.

"Careful," Chance says, leaping up quickly to brace my shoulder. Once I'm steady, he puts his hand on my forehead and frowns. "You still have a fever. Come on, let's get you some medicine."

"You know," I tell him, the words falling out of my mouth without thinking, "you'd make a great father."

I regret the words as soon as I say them, of course, but the one thing I did not expect is for him to make a disgusted face. "Ew. Children."

I frown. "You don't like kids?"

"I don't like young kids," he corrects. "Older kids are okay, I guess."

"How young is young?"

"Younger than eight or nine. They scare me. Their moods constantly change for absolutely no obvious reason at all, and everyone expects you to know how to calm them down. They're nightmares." He shudders.

I laugh. "True. Well, good luck on having a kid that's skipped the first ten years of life."

"There's always adoption," he reminds me.

I give him a look. "Wow, you've really thought about this."

He scowls, a blush forming on his face. "Shut up."

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I think that's pretty cool."

He gives me a small smile. "Thanks. Now come on, let's go downstairs. The sooner you eat, the sooner you can take more medicine."