e

The tree leaves rustled as Ky biked past them, along the two-lane road. It was quiet because the town was small and everyone was having dinner.

The bike was the one other thing she brought back from San Francisco, aside from a moderately sized suitcase. During the car ride over, the act of biking down old roads alongside the forest kept running through her mind. Now, the wind blew through her hair and she felt safe again, albeit heightened for no apparent reason. On edge, but only at the edges of her mind.

For the last few days, Ky had been remembering bits and pieces from when she was a kid. Skinned knees, stomach aches, the loneliness of being an only child. Being washed over with joy and then fear while passing people by when crossing the street. Realizing that this wasn't a common experience.

It was strange to think adulthood was so close. It was strange to be thinking about the old days instead of the new ones; everything that had happened since moving to the city, like the tests that'd been taken throughout high school and the friends that'd been made. Come next fall, it would be time for college applications, college decisions. Come next fall, Rebecca would be back from treatment.

Rebecca Larson was the first to say hello, the first to offer you her notes if she'd noticed you'd been out sick for a few days, the first to introduce you to the people at the party if you were standing by the red solo cups alone. Maybe she did it because it was the obvious thing to do. Maybe she did it to atone for something horrible but if so, it must have been in a past life. Either way, Rebecca was the last person Ky expected to become close friends with, to call Bex instead for short. Afterward, she was the last person Ky expected to drift away from as well.

Well, maybe this didn't count as drifting away, or it did but it wasn't such a permanent thing, not such a big deal. Anything beats falling off the wagon, or in Bex's case, the bridge. Ky was the one to notice when she stopped sleeping at night. The one who called the cops while texting her to wait just a minute more. The one Bex stopped talking to, the morning after.

Ky was used to this. In the back of her mind, she knew having a best friend was too good to be true, that people were meant to slip in and out of each other's lives accordingly. On the drive back to Beacon Hills, Ky received a text. going to treatment for the summer. sorry. thank you.

The number wasn't in her phone, and when she tried to text back or call it, it wouldn't go through. But it was in the classic lowercase style of Bex Larson, so Ky sent up a prayer and a thank you and stopped trying to reach out. What would she say, anyway?

Now, the thin wheels turned as she pedalled up the hill of a road. A cacophony of birds chirped above and around. Ky felt the low rumble of an oncoming car at the same time as when she felt the burst of emotions; all were heavy, all were loud, and none were hers.

The car sped by, swerving in a zigzag pattern, and normally Ky would be able to dodge it if it weren't for the goddamn hill and the sudden attack of feelings. A wheel must have tapped hers and spun the bike down because she took a tumble, trying to protect her head. The car slowed down and then revved away, the atmosphere turning frantic and distracted.

Great, Ky thought tiredly. Just great. Her vision swam in and out along with her consciousness, which was peculiar; she'd fallen before but it was never like this. The bike was strewn further down, by the trees. Another car came down along the road now- she felt its vibrations on the ground. It paused, it stopped. It was a blue jeep.

"Holy shit. Ky?" It was Stiles's voice. He jumped out of the car.

"Oh, it's you," she said, head still groggy.

"Yea, it's me." He laughed, a bit shakily. "So, it seems pretty obvious from where I'm standing but just in case- did you get hit by a car?"

"Unfortunately, yea."

"Well, c'mon. Can you walk?"

"Yea, I'm fine." And then she fainted.

The next few moments were odd because while she seemed unconscious, Ky could still feel what was going on. Stiles picked her up and placed her in the backseat, fiddled with the seatbelts, muttered expletives the entire time. "Stay with me, Ky," he called out from the front, his voice agitated. She could feel him turning around to check on her. Could feel his focus, razor sharp.

"Eyes on the road," she mumbled, regaining consciousness. The bump of the ride jostled her around; she tried to focus on the roof of the jeep. The black of the roof cover. Wind from the windows. Her shins and forearms felt like they were burning.

"Yea, yea. Just stay with me here."

"Yes, medic."

A forced laugh. "You're killing me. You've been back three days, and you're killing me."

"Sorry."

"It's not okay. But you know what would be? If you stayed awake long enough for us to get to the hospital-"

But Ky had drifted off again.

There was a place between sleeping and awake, and apparently Ky lived there. Kidding- but she spent a lot more time there than others seemed to. It was the one place of reprieve, of peace before absolutely everything seemed to crash back down, hand in hand with consciousness.

While in that place, if there was enough focus, sometimes she could feel what was about to come. In this case it was impossible not to; it felt like a dream with an ocean's setting. The waves of nausea and fear came in from the right, while absolute anger and mourning from the left could be seen from miles away. In this dream, Ky's boat had been capsized. She breathed deeply, in and out, in and out. Tried to hold on to the edge of her sinking ship. Tried not to throw up.

She blinked awake to a hospital room, blurred vision gaining clarity in a few seconds. The nausea felt very real. There was an IV line connected to her left hand, feeding in some sort of fluid. Probably just saline solution. Bandages covered her right arm and right leg, with smaller ones on her left. Probably slid across the paved road on her right side, then. "Ow," she muttered.

Stiles was asleep on the chair but woke up immediately when hearing her stir. "You're awake," he said, already getting up. "I'll get the nurse-"

Ky was already ripping the IV from her arm, wincing at the movement of her scratched-up limbs. "I can't be here," she said matter-of-factly, shocked still for a moment by the sight of him before focusing on the door.

"What? Ky, where are you-"

But now she had jumped out of bed and was weaving through the hospital as quick as possible, guided by the glowing red exit signs. Trying to get away from the sense of nausea, impending doom, lack of hope, and utter fear that pulsated quietly through the air. The double doors of the entrance slid open and she ran out to the edge of the parking lot before stopping.

Ky put a hand to her mouth, held her breath, waited for the nausea to subside.

Stiles was running after her, had probably called her name out while doing so. But she only noticed now when he caught up, panting, hands on knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Ky met the question with silence, unsure of her answer.

"Right, let me rephrase: what the hell was that?"

"Uh. Hospital anxiety, I guess. I ... really hate hospitals?"

"Yea, that's fully believable," he retorted, but thankfully dropped it for something else. "Listen, was there anything out on the road that was… out of the usual? Like, what hit you?"

"Oh, it was definitely a car. Dark blue, minivan." She thought back to the emotions of the two people inside it; how the intensity of it had hit her like a wave. A couple? Siblings? "Why, what else could it have been?"

"Uh, no idea." He squinted. "Another… biker?"

"Fully believable," Ky echoed wryly. Her mind was too scattered to question it further. She examined the bandages. Red spots of blood were already seeping through. "Huh."

"You should get more of those."

"I'm not going back in there."

"Okay, then we can stop at a convenience store to pick some up. Gauze, tape. Oh, alcohol…"

"Drinks already? Calm down, Stilinski, I just got back."

"Ha, ha," he said dryly. "I meant the cleaning kind."

Ky smiled slightly, sure that it looked as tired as she felt. "It's fine, I'll just grab them tomorrow. Did they do anything besides the bandages? Stitches?"

Stiles shook his head. "Just the usual clean-up, checking for sprains or broken bones. Which, judging by the way you sprinted out of there, you are definitely free of."

"Okay, good. How long was I out?" Ky frowned, checked her phone, froze a bit. 11:37pm. "Oh, shit, it's late. I gotta get home."

"Right, yea. I'll give you a ride?"

"No, I can…" It dawned on her that her bike was nowhere to be seen. "Shoot, did you happen to grab my…" she started, but trailed off as she saw how Stiles grew apologetic.

"I think your bike fell down into the trees, and it was too dark to grab."

"Damn."

"-plus, you were sorta drifting in and out of consciousness, so I made the admittedly tough- that's a joke, it wasn't that tough- uh, the decision to, well. Leave it. Sorry."

"Don't be. Thanks for driving me here." Ky ran a hand over her face, embarrassed now that her head had cleared a bit. "I'm sorry for overreacting back there. And, well. Thanks for finding me."

"Of course- what else are estranged acquaintances-slash-friends for?" They chuckled together at that.

Stiles looked different in other ways, besides being much taller than she remembered. He'd grown his hair out from the buzzcut. There were dark circles around his eyes, much like hers during finals season. And the space and time that separated them both for years could be felt, albeit subtle while the both of them sat under the soft orange glow of lamplight. Stiles got up.

"Okay, let's go. You said it was late, right?" He offered her a hand.

Ky rolled her eyes. "I can walk fine," she said, pushing herself up and then trying to hide the sucking of her breath from the pain that ignited underneath the bandages. "Wow, that stings."

Stiles laughed, taking his hand away and putting it back in his pocket. "You haven't changed much, have you?"

"Neither have you. Well, except for maybe the six inches."

"Yea. We can thank ninth grade for that."

It took maybe ten minutes to find where he'd parked, and then they were on the road. Ky called her grandparents to let them know she was coming home, bracing herself for the lecture. It didn't end up being too bad; they were relieved that she was alive, and worried again when she admitted there'd been an accident. But a friend was driving her home now and things were fine. She hung up with the promise to be home as soon as possible.

"You speak Cantonese really well. As you would. Because it's your language." He winced. "Sorry, that was dumb. Pretend I didn't say that."

Ky shook her head. "Thank you, and it's okay because you're wrong and I'm actually barely fluent."

"Hey, as long as the communication happens."

"Right." They were cruising along at a steady pace, but Ky was getting antsy. "Um, I know I just got into a car crash, but if you could drive faster, that'd be good."

"Grandparents stressed?"

"Yea."

"Gotta love Grandma Chang. Wait, is that her last name?"

"No, she's my mom's mom."

"Oh. So…"

"What do you need to know my grandma's surname for?"

"Well, what am I supposed to call her the next time I awkwardly pass by your house?"

"Nothing. You're supposed to just keep on walking." Ky grew quiet as she looked out the window, at the familiar roadside stores and lengths of trees. These dim streets would take some getting used to again. So would the chorus of crickets and fresh air. She looked up and saw how clear the night was; the constellations looked like pinpricks in the sky.

"Sorry if that was harsh. It's just… I dunno if you've noticed, but she isn't very fond of, well, any guy my age."

"No, yea, that's cool. I mean for the record, parents love me."

Ky gave him a look.

"Okay, they tolerate me." A pause. "Okay, well, they usually don't hate me entirely."

Ky laughed. "That's a win."

"Exactly how I see it... So, where'd you move to? When I got back from Washington after camp it was like you were just... gone. No one knew where you went."

"Yea. I mean, I didn't even know I was moving until after you left. Might've told you."

"That would've been nice."

Ky chuckled. "Might've not told anyone. Maybe I wanted to disappear entirely. Start fresh."

"Pretty dedicated for a thirteen-year old, weren't you?"

"Oh, of course." Ky tapped her fingers along the window. "Nah, there just weren't many people to update. I guess my grandparents kept to themselves too, then?"

"Yea."

"Mm… We moved to San Francisco for my mom's work. There wasn't much keeping us here, and my parents wanted to try city life."

"Oh, nice. How come your grandparents didn't move with you? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but you guys seemed pretty tight-knit back then."

"Yea, we were. I mean, my parents wanted them to. But they said they'd gotten settled here, and my grandma grew up in the same house, so. They didn't wanna pull up roots." Ky frowned. "Actually now that I think about it, my grandpa wanted to come with us but she was pretty adamant on staying. Dunno why."

"Well, it makes sense. You know, to stick around the familiar."

"I guess. How about you, what's new? What's happened since I left?"

"Oh... not much. Well, a lot, but like. Just… high school. Figuring out college stuff for next year."

Ky nodded. Stiles didn't seem to want to talk about recent stuff and she could respect that. Still, the closed-off air about him now reminded Ky of what her grandmother had said, about how he seemed like trouble. It wasn't as far of a jump to make now.

But there were other things to worry about, like explaining the accident and making sure they didn't dislike Stiles even more. After all, Ky'd been reminded of how familiar and comfortable he was, and how well they got along even now. When they turned onto their street, Ky spoke up again.

"Here's fine. I'll walk."

"... They really hate me, then," he said jokingly. Not a question, but a statement. A fact.

"Nah, they're just… Um. Wary of people. But hey, thanks a lot for the ride. Both times."

Ky opened the door to step out, but as she did so, Stiles cleared his throat. The energy shifted from oddly sullen to focused again. As if he was trying to figure something out, as always.

"I hope you know that I know that there's more to it than just the hospital anxiety. There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"

"Maybe." She remembered how he'd asked about what had hit her, as if it could have been something other than a car. The nerves had rolled off him for a split second, like how they did before someone made a decision. "But there's something you're not saying, either."

"... So, this is one of those 'don't ask, don't tell' situations, then?" he asked wryly.

She smiled in response and shut the car door. "Night, Stiliniski," Ky called while heading down the street, her right side still stinging.