Natalie

Twenty minutes later, a familiar banged-up car pulls up outside my apartment. I don't make him wait a second before I run outside and jump in the passenger's seat.

"Thank you so much for doing this- really- I mean, I haven't spoken to you in weeks, and then you're here-"

"What are friends for?" he said simply, and I fell silent.

For a few minutes we were silent. I wasn't sure if he was feeling as awkward as I was, or if he just preferred to ride in silence. He almost always had music playing when he was driving, but tonight it was quiet. The car smelled the same, though: not a trace of new-car smell (it was almost fourteen years old) but instead there was a mix of some gross smell that had come with the car, all covered up with a huge dousing of Lysol from when Henry had tried to make it smell nice. For some reason this comforted me. This, at least, had not changed.

I looked over at him. His eyes were on the road, and both hands were on the wheel. He had gotten a haircut sometime in the past couple weeks, I noticed, and was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt I'd seen many times before. He looked good.

I turned to face the road, and just then noticed him turning right when he should have gone left in order to get to the train station.

"Oh, no, Henry, go left."

"Why?"

"The station's that way."

"I'm not taking you to the station."

I felt a flash of confusion and annoyance at his words. Him, too? I had to get there, and fast.

"Seriously, Henry- I have to get there-"

"I know- but it's midnight. I checked on my phone after you called- there isn't a train until 12:45 and you're not waiting at the station this late, and who knows if your dad can pick you up when you actually do get home. I'm not just going to leave you there; there's too many creepy people. And it's not that big of a deal to just drive you all the way."

I wasn't sure whether to be very, very glad that he was willing to do this, or worried that he still cared this much. "Henry, thank you. But it's two hours from here."

He shrugged. "I'm already out."

I nodded. After another half hour of silence, I decided to call dad and tell him I was on the way.

"Hey, dad."

"Hey, Nat- are you coming?"

"Yes- I'm about an hour and a half away."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. After I hung up I realized you didn't have a car, but you didn't call back so I figured you didn't need a ride. You have a ride, don't you? You're not taking the train this late, are you?"

Seriously, I don't know why everyone's freaking out. I've taken the train before. Still, I guess better safe than sorry. "Yes, I um... I have a ride."

"Who's taking you? Ben?"

"Um, no actually. Henry's driving me," I said, waiting for the words to sink in. The line was quiet for a few seconds.

"Oh," her dads voice said, but she cut him off before he could ask anything else.

"How's mom?"

"She's doing well. Or they think she is. She hasn't woken up yet, and she's still being treated right now. They don't know anything yet."

I nodded before remembering he couldn't see me. "Ok. Well, call me if you hear anything."

"I will, Nat. And lemme know when you're nearby."

"Ok dad. See you."

After I hung up, I saw Henry glance at me.

"So, um... just out of curiosity, why amI driving you?"

His words hung there for a moment before I could answer. I didn't want to give him all the details, but I didn't know how else to say it. "My roommates weren't home, and... well, most of my friends are mad at me. And no one else would. And you said you would help me out if I needed it, so I just..." I trailed off. Was I taking advantage of his promise?

"Why are you friends mad at you?"

"Because I've sort of ditched them all for the people who I've been hanging out with lately," I said.

"Why isn't one of them driving you, then?" he asked. "I mean, where's your boyfriend?"

"He's not... I mean, I don't know if he is or not. But he was being an asshole and whether or not he was my boyfriend doesn't matter anymore, because he definitely isn't going to be for much longer."

"But he wouldn't drive you? You asked?"

"Yeah. He wouldn't even drive me to the train station. He's been such an asshole lately, and he keeps asking me to go out, and I'm busy and I don't want to go, and he hangs out with a bunch of people I don't like, and he keeps pressuring me to- never mind, you probably don't want to hear this. I mean, you were nothing but nice and kind to me, and then I just treated you like shit, breaking up with you and not speaking to you, until I need help again, and then I speak to you again... I'm sorry, I'm just such a bitch."

"You're not a bitch, Nat."

"How can you even say that? You deserve more than me, but I broke up with you for such a stupid, selfish reason."

"I'm not saying you were right, because I think you were wrong to just end it like that. So fast, I mean... but it doesn't make you a bitch. And, Natalie... it's ok to change your mind."

I don't know what he meant by that- change my mind about him? As in when I changed my mind and broke up with him, or I should change my mind now? Or is he talking about Ben?

"Henry, I'm sorry for how I treated you. You don't deserve that."

He nodded. "Apology accepted."

He was quiet for a few minutes, and I would have given anything to know what he was thinking. What he was feeling. Hell, I would have given anything to know what I was feeling. Guilt about ditching Henry for Ben was bubbling in my stomach, and I don't know if it's because Ben was such a jerk or because I wish I was still with Henry.

Do I?

"So," he said, breaking the silence and my thoughts. "Um, how much of a jerk was Ben?"

There was curiosity burning beneath his words.

"He was fine for awhile, but um... well, things just got strained. He's full of himself and just... not right for me, you know?"

He didn't say anything. I cringed, knowing I shouldn't have asked for his opinion about this.

"He's a douche bag for not caring enough about you to drive you to visit your sick mother, for god's sake."

I could hear his meaning beneath his words: "He's a douche bag for not caring as much for you as I do."

Did he still love me? He shouldn't, but who had once again helped me out, no-questions-asked? It was one in the morning now. Why else would he be driving me?

Well, here's one answer: I am positive that no one else loves me. My dad loves me, and possibly Henry. No one else loves me, and no one else is driving me. But Henry is. Does that mean he does love me?

But I can't think about him anymore. My thoughts left Henry and started drifting towards my mother. What if after all this depression and illness, she had died from something like this? Died fighting? Died taking these pills to make her better? After trying to commit suicide, how could she die trying to make herself better? It's sick, I know- I can't lose her this way. Even though sometimes I hate her, and I used to think she was weak for not being able to get over my brother and care for me, I now know she's the strongest person I will ever know. After over twenty years of suffering, she's still trying to fight. And still losing.

Tears spilled over, and I unconsciously reached for Henry's hand, which was now on the armrest. I felt instant comfort.

"Nat- please don't do that," he said. "Unless you mean it."

"I'm sorry," I said, moving away and feeling guilty. Of course he wouldn't want me to touch him. Not after how I've hurt him. "I just don't want my mom to go this way..."

"Oh, Nat, I'm sorry," he said, sounding guilty. God, he didn't need to be. But he nervously touched my shoulder, and then put this arm around me. It was a little awkward because there was the armrest between us, but I didn't mind. I know it was probably only because he knew I was crying, but I didn't care. Even if we could never be together again, he was still one of the best friends I've ever had, and it was nice to be talking again.

"Thanks," I said.

"That's what friends are for," he repeated. "So, do you want to talk about your mom?"

I told him what I knew, but that wasn't much. It did make me feel better, though, and it passed the time. When we were pulling up to the hospital, I called dad again. We pulled into a parking space.

"Do you mind if I go in with you? I don't really want to just go back home; I'm too tired. I understand if you want privacy, but I could just wait with you, too."

"No, I don't mind- that sounds perfect."

But we still didn't get out of the car. I took a deep breath and then said everything I'd wanted to all night.

"Henry, thank you so much for doing this. Really- you're the best friend I've ever had. The best person who's ever been in my life. And I'm sorry for not seeing it before. I hope you can forgive me."

"Natalie," he said, shaking his head, "I already have. As long, of course," he smiled semi-jokingly, "that you break up with that guy tomorrow."

"Done," I said. Did he mean what I think he means...?

"It's not like you guys were too serious or anything, right? It was only like two months..." There was an edge of curiosity in his voice, and also a too-innocent tone in which he said it.

The words were out before I could think about them. "I never slept with him. He wanted to, but I wouldn't let it get anywhere close to that. I've only ever slept with you."

I stopped, blushing, and wanted to cover my mouth with my hands. Was that what he wanted to know? Did he even care? It wasn't his business- me sleeping with Ben, I mean. And then bringing up us sleeping together... I just opened the car door, the lights coming on and flooding the car, allowing him to see how red I was. The lights effectively ended the easy conversation between us, and I didn't know that it would come back later. "I should go in- I mean, you're coming too, right... I forgot. Um, so... So I guess we should go in... Wow, it's cold out..." I laughed nervously and then wanted to punch myself. "Let's go."

I walked out of the car, into the parking lot, and heard him go out and lock the doors. We entered the hospital, me holding my breath. We checked in, and went to the ward where mom's room was, and found dad in the waiting room. I ran over and hugged him.

"How is she?"

"No idea... no one's told me anything yet," he said, his face pale. I nodded, ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach and knowing I was probably as pale as he was. Dad turned and saw Henry, who I still couldn't look at.

"Good to see you," he said a little too meaningfully. And then he hugged him. Oh god. "Thank you for bringing Natalie."

"It was nothing, Mr. Goodman."

"You can go sleep, if you want. It's late. I can give you the keys to my apartment if you don't want to drive all the way home."

"No," Henry said. "I might as well stay, if that's alright with you."

"It's fine with me. Whatever you want. But thank you."

I just took a seat on the plastic, fake-leather seats, and waited. I was confused about Henry, wondering about what I was feeling. Was I confused? Sad about Ben? Or did I love Henry again? Or more likely... still love him?

But more importantly, I was worried about mom.

Please, please be ok, I thought, clasping my hands together and trying my hardest not to think.

Henry

I tried to listen to what Mr. Goodman was saying, and tried my hardest to not smile when we were waiting. Everyone else- Mr. Goodman and Natalie and all the other people in the waiting room- was sad, and I didn't want to be "that jerk who was happy in the hospital." And I really was worried about Nat's mom. No one seemed to know anything, and I knew enough about her illness and what had seemed to be her slow recovery to know that an ending like this would be tragic. More tragic than any other ending, I mean.

But I couldn't really think about that, because all I was hearing was a kind of song in my head the whole time.

Natalie's breaking up with Ben! She called me!

She NEVER SLEPT WITH HIM! Yes!

And there was still the ride home to look forward to.

Score!