Note from author: This picks up the very second after chapter 8 left off. Please review, don't be afraid to give negative comments but please don't be harsh. I hope I'm fulfilling everyone's highest expectations, but remember, the story isn't even halfway done yet, so just keep watching, waiting, and reading, and maybe you'll like the way it turns out. Once again, all religious material is strictly characteristic to the characters. If you don't want to believe the things Joe and Jenna believe, I'm not going to influence you otherwise. But hey, this is America, we have freedom of press, speech and religion, so I don't think this should offend anybody. If it does, please inform me and I will try to unoffend you. Thanks! :)

Chapter 9: Surprise!

I stopped just inside the door to take in my surroundings. The entrance faced a few steps to the upper level of the house and around a wall, I could see the beginnings of a living room to my right. To my left, there was an archway into what appeared to be a dining room, furnished with a table, four surrounding chairs, and not much else. Through the dining room I could see the doorway into what I guessed was a kitchen. Behind me, Jake closed and locked the door, took off his coat, hung it on the coat rack, and offered to help me out of my coat as well. I let him take my horse-spit-covered coat and I removed my nasty horse-muck-covered boots.

From somewhere to my left, I assumed the kitchen I heard a woman's voice call, "Jake, is that you?"

I turned to Jake, my eyes wide. What was another woman doing here? When the speaker came through the dining room, I realized why.

"Hi mom," Jake said.

There she was. Mrs. Duckworth. Standing right in front of me, smiling, surprised but pleased to see me. In Jake's house. Oh boy.

"Hi Mrs. Duckworth, how are you?" I finally said, a little breathlessly.

"Hi Jenna, how are you, dear?" She replied, her smile growing, if possible, as she embraced me.

"Superfluous," I answered, my voice muffled as she hugged me tightly. I love Jake's family.

"Bill, come down here, hon," she called as she let go of me.

Of course, Mr. Duckworth came walking downstairs, and his face, too, lit up, though not nearly as impressively as his wife's had, as he saw me. "Jenna! How are you sweetheat?" He asked and pulled me into an embrace again.

"I'm absolutely fantastic, how are you, Mr. Duckworth?" I replied.

"Very good, thank you," he said, then added, "So I hear Jake had to come rescue you."

"Yes, I was stranded at my stable in the middle of nowhere. I'm so fortunate that Jake called me when he did. Otherwise, who knows when I would make it home, if I did make it home. He's a real lifesaver," I answered, smiling over at Jake, who had been watching me and smiling this whole time.

"My pleasure," he said. I smiled again.

"Come in, sit down, hon," Mrs. Duckworth ushered me into the living room, which was very tastefully furnished and surprisingly immaculate for a bachelor's house. Then again, his parents were visiting, so the cleanliness was more than likely due to Mrs. Duckworth than Jake's own good habits. There was a large, flatscreen TV against the one wall, with a large, comfy looking sofa in front of it, another armchair in the corner, a fireplace against the opposite wall with another comfy looking sofa in front of it, along with two armchairs. A large window took up most of the space on the right wall. On the left wall was a doorway into a backroom that I assumed Jake used as his study due to the large desk, computer and scattered papers I could see in the room. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Mrs. Duckworth directed me over to the sofa in front of the fireplace and she and I sat down there. Jake excused himself to get changed and freshen up quickly. Mr. Duckworth sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace. Since Jake was gone, Mrs. Duckworth told me in a low tone, "We were so happy when Jake told us he ran into you the other day."

"Oh, well thank you, I was very pleased to see him again, myself. It was just what I'd needed that day," I replied.

"Well, the thing is, it was just what Jake needed too," she continued, checking to make sure Jake wasn't in the room, added in an even quieter tone, "He's been having a little bit of trouble finding a girlfriend since he moved to Boston."

"Really? He had so many girls all over him in high school. Why would he have any trouble now?" I pondered aloud, completely shocked by this new enlightenment.

"Well, the thing is, the only time he's ever in a situation where he might meet someone, it's a sport event. And then, that Joe Kingman is always there and all the girls crowd around him. Jake and all the other men there might as well be girls for all that the women care about them. And if Jake tries to say anything to any of them, they ignore him, and go talk to Joe instead. It's extremely frustrating for him. I'm so glad he ran into you, I was beginning to think this girl issue would start effecting his self-confidence and positive attitude he usually has," Mrs. Duckworth explained.

As if he knew that we were talking about him, Joe called my cell phone at exactly that time. I had been looking at Mrs. Duckworth and winced when my phone rang. "Please excuse me for a minute," I apologized, taking my phone out of my pocket, and, upon seeing that it was Joe, gripped the phone so hard my knuckles went white. I debated mentally whether I should answer it or not. I decided I could call him back if it was something really important, which it probably wasn't, and sent the call directly to voicemail. I turned the phone down to vibrate while I was at it and replaced it in my pocket.

Mrs. Duckworth looked at me in a strange way. "Who was that?" she asked.

"Oh, just Joe Kingman," I said, blushing.

She laughed, and when she saw I wasn't joking, asked, "Wait, are you serious?"

I showed her my cell phone that said, "ONE MISSED CALL: JOE KINGMAN".

Mr. Duckworth looked over and asked, "You know Joe Kingman?"

I grimaced, "Yeah, kinda," I replied, "I once had to interview him for my job as a journalist for the Boston Press."

"Oh," Mr. Duckworth said, and I saw him and Mrs. Duckworth exchange worried glances, as if saying to each other, "Oh no! That Joe Kingman has her under his spell too! Maybe there is no hope for our son!"

I quickly reassured them, "But no worries, I much prefer Jake. Joe is a jerk," I replied. Their faces eased slightly and they smiled at me.

At that time, Jake reentered the room in a new shirt and smelling really good. He sat down next to me (pretty darn close to me!) and put his arm around the back of the couch, which, by extension, was around my back. I scooted in closer to him and let his arm fall across my shoulder.

"So what's up?" he asked me.

"Nothing, nothing's up," I replied calmly, still smiling at him. I was probably being rude, but for some reason or another, I couldn't take my eyes off Jake. Those eyes, they were so big and brown. That skin, so clear. Those teeth, so perfect (even better than other perfect teeth). Gosh, he was so hot! Taking a quick breath, I was overcome by the smell of cologne, and it smelled good. "Mmm, you smell good," I told him.

He laughed and said, "Thanks. You smell…" he sniffed me, "like a horse."

I giggled and said, "Ahh, my favorite scent!" He laughed again at this.

"We'll leave you two alone." I had forgotten Mr. and Mrs. Duckworth were in the room until Mrs. Duckworth said this. She stood up and gestured for Mr. Duckworth to follow her out of the room. He looked outraged, as if he didn't want to leave. "Come on, Bill," Mrs. Duckworth muttered, and pulled him out of the room.

I looked back over at Jake and sighed happily, laying my head on his shoulder. "I love it here. Your parents are so nice. Your house is so cozy. Your sofa is so comfy. And then of course, you," I looked up at him, "you are so… handsome, and sweet, and wonderful."

Jake smiled. "I'm glad you like it here, you should come over more often," he said.

"I would love to," I said, "Maybe I should get stranded at the barn during an ice storm more often."

"You don't have to be stranded to come over," Jake said, smiling weakly, "I'd honestly prefer if you came over even when you're not stranded. I was so afraid for you today," he admitted.

I smiled again at Jake. "You're so sweet," I repeated.

Jake smiled again. (Wow, we were smiling a lot. It seems like every other sentence is 'I smiled' or 'he smiled' or 'we smiled'. But it's the truth. We were really happy. Hey, it's better than frowning!) "Is it alright if I never leave this spot?" I asked him, burying my face in his chest.

"It's cool with me," he replied and kissed the top of my head, sending a shiver down my spine. "Are you cold?" he asked me.

"No, I'm fine," I replied, my voice muffled from speaking into his chest.

"You just shivered," he continued.

"Oh, not because I'm cold though," I said.

"Then why?"

Couldn't he just drop it? "Cuz." I said.

"No really why?"

"Just cuz of you," I muttered.

"Because I disgust you or because you like me?" As if he really needed an answer to that.

"What do you think?" I asked him, looking up at his face.

"Well I hope that it's because you like me and get excited when I do this," he replied, and kissed my cheek this time. My face turned scarlet. "Am I right?" he asked me.

"Bingo." I giggled. He smiled. "Does it work on you?" I asked him.

"Does what work on me?"

"Do you get excited when I do this?" I leaned up and kissed his cheek.

His smile got very big and, leaning against his chest, I could feel his heartbeat quicken.

"I guess it does," I laughed. He laughed and winked at me. Even doing something corny like that, he looked so hot doing it.

"Did I hear you say that you're cold, Jenna?" Mrs. Duckworth asked, popping into the room from the study. I suppose she must have been listening to us. Oh boy. That's embarrassing. Well, from the look on her face, I'd say she was pretty pleased with what she'd heard.

"No, no I'm fine. Thanks anyway, Mrs. Duckworth," I replied.

"Are you sure you don't want me to make you a mug of hot chocolate?" She offered, "It's my specialty!"

I looked up at Jake. "She does make really really good hot chocolate," he admitted.

"Sure, I'll have some. Thank you, Mrs. Duckworth," I said.

"Mom, can I have one too, please?" Jake added.

"Sure thing, I'll be right back with it," she said and hurried away, a broad grin stretching across her face.

"Your mom is so nice," I said to Jake.

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "Hey can I ask you something?"

"Sure, fire away," I said, and giggled.

He took a breath then asked, "What's so funny?"

I giggled again, "Is that your big question?" I laughed.

He laughed quickly and said, "No, but why're you laughing?" My laughter was contagious and he had started laughing too.

"Why not? I'm happy to be with you, you're happy to be with me, I think; your mom and dad are happy that I'm with you. What's there to be sad about?" I replied between short laughs. When I'd finished my sentence, I laughed even harder.

Jake was laughing too. "Good point," he replied.

Pretty soon we were both laughing pretty hard and when Mrs. Duckworth came in with our hot chocolate we were both pretty much hysterical.

"I'm glad you two are having a good time," she said, setting our hot chocolate down on the coffee table next to Jake's side of the sofa. She kissed his head and mine upon exiting. "Hmm, Jake, you do smell good, and Jenna, you do smell like a horse," she commented. Jake and I just laughed harder at this.

"Thanks, Mrs. Duckworth," I gasped between laughs.

"You're welcome, I hope you enjoy it. You have to tell me how you like it when you're done," she replied, oblivious to her insult. Oh well, she didn't mean it offensively. Mrs. Duckworth walked out of the room.

When Jake and I calmed down and stopped laughing, I wiped my eyes and said, "Hey Jake, could you hand me a mug of hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, no problem," he said and removed his arm from my shoulder to hand me the hot chocolate. My shoulder was cold now that his arm was gone.

I sipped it. It was still warm, and it was absolutely delicious. It tasted like chocolate, with a hint of… was it… hazelnut? A few puffy marshmallows floated about in the mug, and added to the flavor. I had never and still to this day have never tasted hot chocolate as wonderfully unique as this. I loved it. "Oh my gosh! This is delicious!" I said.

"Glad you like it," Jake said, replacing his arm around my shoulder and squeezing me close to him. I looked up at him and giggled. He smiled and leaned down like he was going to kiss me. Until…

There was a huge clatter at the window and we looked to see what it was. The ice rain had started again and was raining even harder now than it was before. The sky had turned black and the rain came down in sheets. The driveway was hardly visible through all the rain, which made a terrible clatter on the window and on the roof. The fire in the fireplace crackled and glowed stronger as the rain came down harder. It made me feel so cozy to be inside cuddled up next to Jake.

I snuggled in closer to Jake and said, "I feel so nice and cozy."

Jake smiled down at me and hugged me to his side. "Do you want a blanket?" he asked.

"Sure," I agreed. Jake put his mug down on the coffee table, turned around, and grabbed the blanket on the top of the sofa behind our heads. He spread it over us and put up the foot rest on the sofa. Now I felt even cozier! "Thanks," I said.

"No problem." Jake picked up his hot chocolate again, took a sip, smiled at me, and rubbed my shoulder.

"So what was the big question you wanted to ask me?" I inquired.

He took a deep breath, sipped his hot chocolate, stared out the window, and then looked back down at me again.

"What?" I prodded.

"I just wanted to know…" he started, cleared his throat, rubbed his nose, and took another sip of hot chocolate.

"Know what?"

"I was just wondering…"

"Yes?" The suspense was killing me!

"Well, I wanted to know if, uh…"

"Oh Jake, for Pete's sake, just spit it out already!" I exclaimed.

"How much do you like me?" he blurted out.

"How much do I like you?" I repeated after a pause.

"Yeah."

"On a scale of one to ten with one being absolute hate and ten being head-over-heels in love, I'd say you are an 8.5," I replied.

"8.5?"

"Yeah."

"What is an 8.5?" Jake asked.

"I really like you a lot, I'm not totally in love with you, and I don't want to say you're a 9 until I know what you feel about me," I explained.

"What if I told you that you are a 9 in my book?" He asked.

"That would bump you up to a 9 then," I replied simply.

"Okay, so you really like me and I really like you, then, right?" he checked.

"You got it."

"Well, in that case, do you want to just see each other?" he offered.

I was a little shocked by this sudden offer. "Wow, can I see the bottoms of your feet?" I asked quickly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Just let me see them," I said. He showed me the bottoms of his feet. "Just as I suspected," I muttered.

"What? What's wrong with them?" he asked.

"Nothing's wrong with them. And there certainly isn't any grass growing on them either," I replied and giggled.

"Come again?" Jake asked.

"It's just an old joke my Aunt Juli and I always had," I said, "I just mean you don't wait too long for anything do you?"

"No, why waste life? It's too short to be wasted," Jake said simply.

"That's an excellent point. As to your question, I'd love to," I answered without thinking twice.

"Really?" Jake said incredulously.

"Really."

"Wow, that was a lot simpler than I thought it would be," Jake muttered to himself.

"Well, I already know you make a good guy, I really like you, I've been sort of lonely lately, and there's no one else I'd consider seeing. So why not?" I said.

"Works for me," Jake replied. He left the matter at this, and, before I knew what was happening, he leaned down and kissed me right on my unsuspecting lips!

I was shocked a little at first, then I realized I should be enjoying it and wrapped my arm (not holding hot chocolate) around him. His arm around my shoulder squeezed me tighter. He put his mug down on the table and ran his hand through my hair. Finally, he pulled back to take a breath, still running his hand through my hair and down my cheek.

A huge smile spread across my face and proliferated onto Jake's. "Sorry about that, I've wanted to do that since I saw you Friday," he said.

"No problem, I don't mind," I giggled.

"By the way, you may not smell very good," we paused here to laugh shortly, "but you do taste really good," he laughed.

I giggled. "What do I taste like?" I asked. Hey, I'm curious. How many times does anyone ever tell you that you taste good anyway?

"Mom's hot chocolate," he said.

"Well, I'm glad I don't taste bad," I replied. He laughed again.

"So who wants lunch?" Mrs. Duckworth offered, hurrying into the room.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon I spent at Jake's house, I counted the times I felt my phone vibrate. By three o'clock (at which time the ice rain had stopped and I asked Jake to take me back to the stable to retrieve my car so I could go home and get ready to go out), I counted five missed calls. That is, including the first call I got from Joe while I was talking to Mrs. Duckworth. Joe really needed to get a life.

Jake drove me back to the stable around three thirty, and consequently, back to my car. I thanked him for having me and he reminded me of our plans on Friday night. I promised I wouldn't forget and drove home speedily. Poor Peanut was going to wet his fur if he was in that house any longer!

After I had settled the Peanut matter, I checked my phone. I had three voicemails, and had missed 5 calls, just as I'd predicted. Two calls were from Joe. One was from Angela, another from Lindsey, and the last from Natasha (another friend who was participating in the GNO tonight). What a relief. They weren't all from Joe. I checked my voicemails next.

"You have three unheard messages," my cell phone told me.

"So I hear," I muttered to my phone.

"First unheard message, 'Hey Jenna, it's Angela. Just checking to make sure you're still coming with us tonight for our GNO! Whoo! I hope you can come, it will be so much fun. I got a call from Natasha and she was asking if she could get a ride with you to Barnie's, you know where we're going to eat tonight. It's a great restaurant, by the way, I once dated the son of the man who owns it. Ugh, what a mess. Anyway, I told Nat to just call you because I couldn't answer for you, and then she needed your phone number, but when I went to get your number, I found a note that my boyfriend left for me and you would not believe the nerve that boy has saying that I need to get…'" the message cut off at this point. I laughed. I can't remember a single message I got from Angela where she didn't talk longer than she had time to. Oh Angela. I skipped the message and continued with the next.

"Next unheard message, 'Hey Jenna, it's Natasha. I would like to know if you could possibly give me a ride to Barnie's tonight. My car's at the shop. I live just around the block from you, so hopefully I won't be too out of the way. Anyway, call me. I'll talk to you later, bye.'" I skipped this message also, thinking I'd get back to it later.

"Next unheard message, 'Uh, hey, Jenna. It's Joe. Hey, listen, I really need to talk to you. Please call me back, it's important. Bye.'"

¡Dios mios! I sighed heavily and took the return calls in order.

I called Angela, confirmed my participation in the GNO, then called Natasha and told her I'd gladly take her to Barnie's. Then came the dreaded call. Joe.

I crossed my fingers, mentally pleading that he wouldn't answer the phone, and mentally groaned when he did.

"Hey, Jenna," Joe sounded exhausted as he answered the phone.

"H-hi, Joe. What's wrong?" I asked. Something was definitely wrong. I had never heard him sound this depressed.

Joe groaned on the other end of the phone. "You know Webber?" he said.

"Umm, Webber the football player, you mean?"

"Yeah, that Webber."

"I know of him, I don't think I've ever met him, though. Why?" I replied.

"Well uh, he was in a, uh, a motorcycle accident yesterday," Joe stuttered as if he couldn't believe the words himself.

"Oh! Oh I'm so sorry! Is he okay?" I gasped.

"He's real beat up, but he's going to be fine. He broke his leg and shoulder, and he sprained his wrist. He's still in the hospital."

"Oh, I'm so glad he's okay. I hope that he's okay for the next playoff game," I replied, though the last half of the statement was entirely false.

"Yeah, I don't want to think about it right now. Anyway, I was calling to ask you – uh – you're one of those real religious people right?" he asked uncertainly.

I chuckled at his terminology. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

"Well – um – could you, uh, put in a good word with God or something?" he requested awkwardly.

"What do you mean, put in a good word with God? I thought you said he was going to be fine," I said.

"He is he is," he reassured me quickly, "I mean, could you like ask him to uh speed up the healing process a little bit? I mean, we need him, he's one of the best players on the team, except for me, of course," he chuckled.

This made me laugh. I laughed until my sides hurt.

"What?" He sounded offended.

"Joe, if I could just pray to God and say 'Hey God, by the way, could you fix Webber's bones up so he can win the big game? Oh and by the way, it'd be really awesome if I could fly, too!' Trust me, if that's all you had to do, a lot more people would go to church," I replied.

"Can you do anything to help him?" Joe sounded exasperated again.

"Well, I can pray that he would heal quickly, but it won't be an overnight ordeal, and I can't make gaurentees. I can only try, I just hope you realize that," I reminded him.

"Okay, well, uh, thanks anyway," Joe said. I felt bad. He sounded so disappointed.

"Sorry, Joe. I wish I could help more," I apologized.

"Don't worry about it. I'll see you later, Jenna," he said.

"Bye, Joe." I hung up.

Oh, now I felt really bad. Poor Webber. I really did genuinely wish he would heal soon. Poor Joe. He sounded really depressed. But was he depressed because of Webber being hurt or because he thought they might lose the big game now? I couldn't figure him out.

I tried to brush thoughts of Webber away as I got ready to go out but for some reason they just kept coming back. On my way to Natasha's house, I prayed out loud that Webber would get better and that I wouldn't be so distracted tonight that I would be no fun at all.

I picked up Natasha and put a happy smile on my internally worried face when she hopped into the car, and feigned a carefree and light-hearted mood. Unfortunately for me, I'm not an excellent actress when I'm upset and Natasha is an unusually observant woman.

Halfway to Barnie's, she stopped telling a story when I didn't laugh at the funny line she'd quoted, and said, "Alright, Jenna, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong," I said defensively.

"Do I have stupid written across my forehead or something? I know you better than that to know that something isn't right. You're usually so upbeat and cheerful and you laugh at everything even if it's not funny. I haven't seen a sincere smile on your face since I got in the car, your knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and I can tell you aren't really listening to what I'm saying by the way you are nonresponsive and keep shuddering. What's wrong?" It's amazing how well Natasha can assess my every emotion when we don't even spend very much time together.

I sighed heavily. "Well, do you know who Joe Kingman is?"

"Of course I do, who doesn't?"

"Well I had to do that interview with him once for the sports column after Fred quit, remember? So ever since then he's been calling me and showing up in my life, but that's another story entirely. Anyway, he just called me today, not long before I left to get you, and told me that the other player on his team, his name is Webber something or another, was in a motorcycle accident and is in the hospital now," I elaborated.

"Oh my goodness! Is he okay?" Natasha gasped, her green eyes going suddenly wide.

"Oh yes, he's fine."

"Well, do you know this man Webber well? Is he your good friend or something?" she prodded.

"No! That's the strange thing about this that I don't understand – I've never formally met this man. It's just that I keep thinking about it and I have this strong urge to see him. I don't understand why, I'm so confused," I added.

"Hmm," Natasha reflected thoughtfully on this for a moment, shaking her head slowly from side to side, her black curls bouncing as she did, before saying, "Maybe something is meant to happen when you go see him, like maybe you'll meet someone there who will change your life forever. Maybe it's God trying to make you go visit Webber in the hospital," she suggested.

"I didn't know you were a believer!"

"Well, I sort of am, I kind of struggle with certain concepts, but I do believe that God makes things happen for a reason, and that if you are meant to meet someone or witness something, He will make things happen that will make you want to be there," she said.

"That is an excellent point," I said, contemplating what she had said, "I think once I go home today, I'm going to call Joe and ask for Webber's room number so I can go visit him," I decided.

"Good plan, let me know how it turns out," Natasha agreed as we pulled up at Barnie's and got out of the car. "So what was the other story about Joe?" she asked.

"Oh, that's a long story," I said, hoping this would make her drop the subject. Luckily, if that didn't work, Angela would be talking so much, I wouldn't have the chance to tell her anyway.

"And I don't think Angela can restrain herself from talking long enough to let you tell it, so I suppose I'll have to wait and hear it later," Natasha obliged as if she'd read my mind.

I mentally thanked God for sparing me the storytelling session.

"Jenna! Natasha! Over here!" I heard Angela yell from across the restaurant. We walked over and sat down at the table that was already full, except for two empty seats meant for Natasha and I. Angela, Betsy, Carrie, Daphne, Elaine, Frances, Gracie and Hannah were waiting for us at the table. Dinner lasted a good two hours and there was never a moment of silence during those two hours. We discussed Carrie's new boyfriend, Angela's ex-boyfriend, Gracie's new haircut, Hannah's new car, and oh my good golly gosh! Did you see who that skanky girl Brittany has been hanging around lately? Dear me, and I heard that her sister, Ashley, has a job at the bar, Stars and Stripes (more commonly known to everyone who knows anything about the city as Stars and Strippers) now too. But you know, everyone knows that her mother was the biggest slut in Boston. Speaking of which, did you hear about that new movie theater they just put in?

Yes, this was how the conversation went on for three more hours at the club that we went to after dinner. Yet, interesting as that conversation sounds, my mind stubbornly wandered all night, no matter how hard I fought it, to thoughts of Webber in the hospital. I wondered what I was doing here, allowing my IQ to drop by the second while I listened to this gossip, when I should be visiting Webber. Then I wondered what I was doing yearning to be in a hospital visiting a man I had never formally met while I was supposed to be enjoying a nice GNO.

However, the urge was becoming more and more overpowering. I didn't want to be the first to leave like a dork. But I really didn't want to stay. It wasn't until Natasha saw the uncomfortable look on my face, and, knowing why, leaned over and whispered to me, "Why don't you go visit Webber. I can tell by the way you've been acting all night you want to and you're clearly not enjoying the gossip," she said.

"How could you tell? You know how I usually love listening about Slutty Sally," I joked.

She smiled, "Just go, I'll cover for you."

"Thanks so much, I owe you big time," I said, "Have fun without me."

"Without you? Are you kidding me? How do you expect me to get home? You were my ride here," she protested.

"Right, sorry. But don't you want to stay?"

"Angela," Natasha called across the table, "I think that chicken I had was badly cooked, my stomach is feeling a bit tipsy. Jenna's going to drive me home. This was really fun, though. We'll see you later," she improvised. I love Natasha.

"Oh! Are you sure? Can't you stay? We could get you a soda water. Waiter! Over here please," Angela protested, gesturing for the waiter.

"No, really, I need to go NOW. Jenna, come on, unless you want puke all over your leather seats," she said, and dragged me away, pretending to hold down vomit as we ran.

When we reached the car we were laughing and I thanked her for getting me out of there. I drove her home, she wished me luck with whatever God had planned for me, and I drove home as fast as I could.

I hadn't even gotten to the elevator and my phone was already dialing Joe's number.

After one short ring, Joe picked up as if he had been expecting a call. "Jenna?"

He must not have been expecting my call.

"Hi Joe," I said. I really should have thought about what I was going to say before I called because now I was totally blanking out and probably sounded like a complete idiot.

"So… what's up?" Joe asked when I didn't say anything.

"Oh not much, how bout you?" I replied automatically, then slapped myself in the forehead for being so stupid.

"Just hanging out, waiting for news on Webber," he answered, sounding confused. He was probably thinking something along the lines of why is Jenna calling me at 10:00 on a Saturday night to discuss what's up when she probably hates my guts right now and wouldn't give me the time of day when I called earlier this very day and asked her what was up?

Come on, Jenna, I thought furiously to myself, just ask him about Webber!! "So, I was wondering if you could possibly tell me what room Webber is in at the hospital?" I managed to ask.

There was a brief pause in which I'm sure Joe tried to figure out why I was asking for this information until he finally just decided to ask me. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it all night and I feel like I should go visit him," I replied honestly.

"Oh, well, I'm going to visit him tomorrow around noon. Do you want me to just pick you up and take you with me?" he offered.

I considered his proposal for a moment and decided there was no harm in what he was offering, so I said, "Okay, but on a strictly for-Webber-friends-only basis."

"Of course. Friends-only, for-Webber," he repeated.

"Okay. Thanks, Joe," I said, feeling better already.

"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh wait! Before you go, is Webber allergic to anything like nuts or peanut butter or anything?" I asked.

"Not that I'm aware of, why?"

"Well, I was going to make him brownies or something to take with me. I've never been in the hospital overnight before, so I don't have first hand experience, but I hear the food is disgusting," I explained.

Joe laughed. "No, I don't think he's allergic to anything," he said.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow at noon, then?"

"Tomorrow at noon."

"Sounds like a plan. Bye."

"Bye, Jenna."

I hung up feeling very relieved. After I got into my comfy sweats, I baked a big batch of brownies for Webber (and his team who undoubtedly would end up stealing poor Webber's food). I fell asleep that night with my house smelling of chocolate, always a good thing, and had dreams of Webber, Jake, Joe, chocolate and sluts. Needless to say, it was a very entertaining dream.