"Jett?" Kayla's voice startled Jett from his half-sleep. He sat up and looked at Kayla in the hospital bed. She had pulled off the oxygen mask.

"Hm?"

"It's three in the morning. Why don't you get some sleep at home?"

Wood nodded sleepily from the doorway, from where he had been trying to persuade Jett to leave for a long time.

"Are you sure?" Jett took her hand. "I don't want to leave you here alone."

"Jett, I'm a big girl now." Kayla tried to sit up. Wincing, she let the notion go. It was too much. "I... I'm sure I can handle it. My parents will be here."

"All right... I promise I'll be here first thing tomorrow morning. Even before that, if you want," Jett said, getting up from the chair. He leaned down, taking a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. "For you," was all he said, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He could hardly believe his bravery at that move, and she smiled after a long moment.

"'Night, Jackson," she said softly as Wood and Jett left the room.

Kate and Victor were with the doctor, so Kayla unfolded the paper Jett had handed her. Smiling at Jett's handwriting, she began to read.

Dear Kayla,

I don't even know how to say this. We've known each other four years now, ever since I brought Silverstone back to Wilsted. I've loved every moment of it.
But there was always more to life for me than work, school, and friends. There was you. From the day I met you after that really embarrassing encounter in the girl's bathroom, where you had the presence of mind to humiliate me more (just kidding), you had my heart, I think.
And the day you won the pie-eating contest... priceless. You may not think I notice such little things, like the way you wear your hair, or the way your smile changes from moment to moment, always beautiful... I never had the courage to admit it to you. I never said what I wanted to say.
And this is what I wanted to say: You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known. Even through bad fights or crappy days you were the sun. Through Tara and all the other stupid things I did, you never made me feel like I wasn't a good friend. You made me see my mistakes with the light of a best friend. You helped me learn (and not just about the human eyes). I passed my midterm because of you (yes, even that matters). I learned to ride a horse and to tell when rain was coming. I learned to plow a field (something I know you hate to do). I learned to be a friend, and most importantly, I learned to love. And I thank you for that.
There is no one in the world who has taught me more than you. And so, there is no one else in the world who I could say this to.
I love you, Kayla West. I always have, and I always will. And I know I've never been good with words. This letter doesn't even say half of what I wanted it to. You're an artist, Kay. A picture is worth a thousand words. I was hoping I could paint a picture with my words. But anyway, this was my attempt at your art. I hope it's a start.

Much love,
Jett

Kayla folded the letter again, trying not to smile as big as she wanted to. She knew she would always keep it. Tomorrow she would have something to say to him too. Her mother and father came back into the room.

"Are you feeling okay?" Kate asked.

"As well as I can under the circumstances," Kayla answered.

"Well, the doctors said your wound was not deep, and thankfully it only grazed a rib, which is easy enough to mend." Victor stood by his daughter's side.

"How long am I going to be here?" Kayla asked, looking up at her father and mother.

"A week is what the doctors are saying now," Kate adjusted her daughter's pillows. "But you're young. You'll pull through." She sat down next to Victor. "Kayla, we're just so glad you're okay... I mean, we died a thousand deaths when Wood called."

"I know," Kayla said. "It's all way too much."

"As long as you're going to be okay." Victor said. "That's what matters. Wood said he'd start the investigation right away. Are you sure you're okay?"

Kayla was quiet for a moment. For some reason she wasn't feeling the shock. She was scared to death, but nothing had hit her yet. She gave voice to this, and her parents exchanged glances.

"Well, Kay, If you need to talk, we're here."

Kayla nodded, and closed her eyes. She didn't feel anything. Shouldn't she?

Well, naturally. She'd been stabbed for God's sake. It was a scary thing.

Why didn't she feel it?

again, a short chapter. you like?? i'm having trouble finding places to cut this into chapters so apologies if things are cut weird.