cherry hills

chapter three -- inklings?

the next day, after trying (and failing miserably) to fix the Neon, Lizbee hitched a ride with Colin Priestly (Class President) to Blaire Street  at around five in the afternoon. In direct contrast with the day before the sun shone a pristine white light, as if determined to make up for yesterday's gloom.

Blaire Street turned out to be almost on the other side of town, a Victorian Townhouse in an expensive-looking neigborhood. Jane had tried to walk here?!

"I'm going to kill Jane," Lizbee muttered darkly as she stalked away from Colin through the  verdant lawn, keeping copiously off the grass, and rang the scary-looking serpent-shaped knocker.

Cyan answered, looking somber for such a blithe person.

"Jane's worse today," he said without preamble as Lizbee pushed in over the threshold.

'Worse? Worse how?"

'Will thinks it's pneumonia. His sister Georgie had the exact same thing last summer. It's just speculation, though," he added quickly as she turned grey. "We don't know for sure, Will's already called St. James' -- we're just waiting for the final opinion."

"Whose final opinion?"

"Yours."

Cyan pushed a heavy solid oak door.  Inside, Jane was lying, pale and sickly, on a darkwood four-poster bed, under layers and layers of beddings and sheets. Will checked her temperature, shaking his head. Carol paced in agitated circles in front of the hearth.

"Lizbee," Jane's voice was nothing but a faint croak. Will's head snapped up, eyes more intense (if that was even possible) than ever . 

"Miss Blythe," he greeted her formally. "Please do have a seat."

"Um...thanks. why --why isn't Jane in a hospital?"

"We needed your opinion. you're her closest relative." Somehow, something about his cool, impassive tone rubbed her the wrong way.

"We're not related." Lizbee replied, snarky. "And anyway, my opinion is that Jane should be in a hospital!"

"Lizbee, shush," Jane reproached her. "It's fine. Will's been taking care of me."

Lizbee was still incensed, but thanked Will for taking care of Jane. Will nodded in acknowledgment. Cyan sighed.

"What now?"

"We've already called for an ambulance. It'll be here in an hour." Will intoned calmly. Lizbee wanted to take that ambulance and shove it down his throat. Why was he being so freaking calm?!?! it was pneumonia, for chrissakes!!

Caroline was still pacing, biting her lip and fretting, apparently agitated by Jane's state of health. But she never spoke. and when she did look up, she looked only at Will.

"You had better take a seat," Will said as he went out of the room. "The ambulance'll be here soon. I'll put a kettle on."

"I'll help," Caroline said, following him out of the room. Cyan chuckled.

"She thinks she's being so cool," he muttered.

"huh?" Lizbee said, absently, watching Jane drift off to sleep.

"Caroline. She's had a crush on Will for years. most obvious thing in the world."

Oh. Hm, well...

"What?" Cyan asked, noticing her pensive expression.

"Well, I hadn't noticed," she replied. Lizbee was often the last to know when it came to people's feelings. especially people she didn't know very well.

He shrugged. "I'm not surprised, really. Will is...the master of the poker-face. You'd think he was this emotionless robot to look at him. Really, he's not. He's just slow to warm up to strangers."

LIzbee didn't answer. She did believe that Will was, well, an emotionless robot. She thought it rude to say it out loud, though. she cleared her throat. 

"I'll call Lottie for a change of clothes for me and Jane."

"You;re staying with Jane?" Charles yipped. He wasn't protesting her presence, but he was nothing if not surprised by it.

"Of course. I am her closest relative and all," She flashed a wicked grin at Charles and speed-dialled Lotie.

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"This is your room," Will shucked the bags off his shoulder and set them on the vanity as Lizbee stared. The room was what she would call a rockstar: the four-poster bed was painted white with periwinkle blue hangings and sheets. The wallpaper had an elegant toile de jouy  design, and the room had an overall atmosphere of lightness and space.

"There are extra towels here," Will said, opening a small closet by the vanity. "and all the bath necessities are in the cupboard under the sink." 

He turned to leave. "Goodnight, Miss Blythe." and he strode out of the room. Lizbee hesitated.

"Will?" she called out. No answer. Was he even still in the hallway? Lizbee huffed, turning to her luggage. but then --

"Yes?" Will appeared, apparently out of nowhere, hands dangling idly at his sides. 

"Uh..Um, it's  just.." Lizbee cleared her throat. Why was she forever stumbling with him? "I just wanted to say thank you. For letting Jane stay. And me with her."

Will nodded. "It's no trouble; Jane truly is too ill to be moved. The doctor was right about that."

"Good thing the doctor had said she could stay here," Lizbee said. In pure fact, the doctor had been quite astonished at Jane's condition; she was well enough to not need confinement, but still needed bed rest. He had also commended Will on his quick-thinking, and Caroline had blushed as if the praise was meant for her.

Will replied that no, he was not some medical genius; it was just that his little sister had caught the exact same thing last summer.

"Yes, quite fortunate," Will murmured, as if it was luck that had caused Jane's quick recovery. "Well, goodnight, miss Blythe."

Lizbee smiled. "It's Elizabeth. Lizbee for short."

"Lizbee," he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word.

"Yes. You're Will," she said, her tone playful. his mouth quirked up slightly.

Wow. look at that. An actual smile on William Havenwoode's face.