When Theresa found out she was sitting at the patio table in her front yard with a glass of lemonade and the Harry Potter book.
Arturo had gone off to meet the guys, and Eva was out running errands in the neighborhood. It seemed like a calm, peaceful Tuesday with no work schedule. Theresa was barefoot out on the stone patio, enjoying the dry heat of summer and space and time to herself.
"Theresa..."
It was Ryan, breathless and sweaty. She could tell he was upset immediately. She could tell something was wrong...
"What? What is it?"
She opened the gate to find he had a dirty mark on his chin, and smudges on his arms and shirt. His hair was rumpled.
"What – were you fighting again? Why?"
"No," he panted. "Yes-"
She handed him her lemonade, concerned. "Here, drink this."
Gratefully, he slurped it down in one gulp and gasped, wiping his mouth off. "Eddie," he breathed as he took another gulp, this time of air.
"What about him?" she demanded. "Is he-? Did he-?" She felt cold.
"No," he said, surprised. "It wasn't him – fight. Some men – I don't know. We tried to stop them – and Eddie's dad-" He took a deep breath and tried to find more air. "Eddie's dad, he got shot, they're at the hospital."
"What?" This wasn't what she expected. She didn't know what she had expected, but it was something completely different. "Is he gonna be-?"
"I don't know!" Ryan exploded. "There was blood, a lot of it, and-"
She was already grabbing for her keys. "The LeBaron's out back, c'mon."
"I don't know if that's a good-"
"You drive!"
Ryan shrugged and caught the keys she hurled at him. They barged around the house and the car was off in under a minute.
Theresa chewed her nails as they raced for the hospital. She hadn't done that in years. She glanced at Ryan, silent and grim. Why had he come to get her? Because he needed her? Or because he sensed that Eddie did?
Now was not the time to ask. She looked away.
"They were friends of – his, you know." Ryan's voice was barely audible over the sound of the rumbling motor and the traffic.
She was confused. "Who? Eddie?"
"No." He was quiet for a moment, staring straight ahead. "Mike."
Theresa immediately turned to look out the window. She couldn't look at Ryan. She nibbled at her fingernails, trying to hide her expression behind her hands. She couldn't talk to him now.
The instant the car was parked she opened the door to jump out, then froze.
"There's glass."
"What?" Ryan looked over. "Theresa!"
"I'm sorry! I-"
"I cannot believe you just forgot your shoes."
"Hello?" she asked, annoyed. "This is a crisis."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Fine. Hold on." He climbed out and made his way around to her open door. He stooped to her, reaching his arms out. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted her weight into his strong frame, her legs drooping over his right arm. He used his body weight to slam the car door shut.
As Ryan carried her through the parking lot she tried to ignore his pounding heart, tried to believe it had nothing to do with her. She couldn't help it. She knew he was wound up, knew why he was nervous. Still.
Ryan smelled like his house – cigarettes and sweat and stale milk and a faint odor of bourbon. It was a smell that made her think of dark bedrooms and late parties and nights alone with Ryan, exploring her body and his. He smelled like growing up and getting older. A smell of desire and anxiety and all of Theresa's teenage angst.
"Were you always this heavy?"
All ruined the second he opened his mouth. Of course.
"Were you always a five-foot-seven weakling? Atwood. Suck it up."
The guard stopped them at the door. "Hey, is she okay, man?"
"I'm fine," Theresa said as she slipped from Ryan's quivering arms. Her feet hit the cold, sterile tile of the hospital floor.
"We're here to see somebody?" Ryan added.
"This is a hospital, miss. You gonna need some shoes."
She sighed. "I forgot them." She shot Ryan a dark look to keep him from laughing. It worked.
"You what?"
"We were in a hurry?"
"You can't just walk in a hospital barefoot..." He was at a loss for words, then sighed. "Don't move. I'll radio for some shoes for you."
"Size seven," she offered helpfully as he turned to his radio.
Ryan finally released a snort. "Only you," he said.
"What?" she shot back, indignant. He shook his head.
The guard produced a pair of hospital-issue booties a few minutes later and Theresa plodded after Ryan, winding through unfamiliar, sterile corridors. They found them looking like statues, immobilized. Arturo. Eddie's mom. Eddie's cousins. A heavy silence hanging over them all.
Arturo shook his head, and Theresa knew instantly. She felt her hands at her mouth.
She felt Ryan grab her arm in shock, and she shook him off. She had to find Eddie. Where was he?
"Oh, god..." Was that her voice? Eddie's mom was in tears, sobbing out her grief. "Where's...?"
Arturo gently took her arm and pulled her aside. "He's down the hall, if..."
She glanced at Ryan, who had shifted next to Eddie's cousin Antonio and was talking to him in a low tone about something. Ryan looked worried. What was left to be worried about?
She nodded and padded down the hall softly in her slippers. She found Eddie alone, by the nurse's station, and she knew right away that he liked it that way – alone. She also knew that it didn't exclude her. Not now.
She put her hand on his arm wordlessly. He glanced down at her. She had never seen his eyes so red, his face so pale.
"Sorry," she whispered, her voice barely there, and before she knew it he had thrown his arms around her, clinging to her. She was almost ashamed to compare it to Ryan's desperation, but there it was, their chests pressed close together, her head tucked on his shoulder as he bent to hers.
She held him in return, letting him shake in her arms. She stroked his head and let his tears pour on her shirt. She felt oddly detached from the whole scene. She wasn't here. These weren't her arms. This wasn't her hair."It was my fault," he was whispering. "I shouldn't – I was pissed, and then – and then-"
"Shhh," she whispered softly back to him. "Baby. It's okay. Eddie."
"I killed him," he said. "I started it, I killed him-"
"You didn't," she said, surprised, holding him to her. "You didn't, you didn't know what would happen."
"But I did," he argued. "I knew they were pissed, and I knew what that guy would do, it's my fault-"
His voice was rising now. She pulled away and took his shoulders with a firm grip. "Eddie. C'mon."
"Fuck me! I'm such a shit, Theresa, I-" He tried to shake her off, reaching his arms up. She clung to him.
"Stop it," she said firmly. "Cut it out! There's nothing you can do about it now!"
Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. His face crumpled and for a moment he looked like Brandon Medena right before a temper tantrum. She saw the tears starting as his arms lowered.
"Hey." She pulled him back to her, and he bent down as she guided his head to her chest, resting atop her breasts. "Shhh. Baby. It's gonna be okay, it's gonna..."
As he shook on her chest, she realized with a start how oddly sensual this was, and how all of a sudden she wanted nothing more than to comfort him, and she knew exactly how to comfort a boy, after years of dealing with Ryan Atwood. She wasn't wearing a bra today, and she wondered if he could tell. His wet cheek grazed over where her nipple was, and she felt a shiver down her spine. A good shiver. A shiver that gave her ideas...
"Hey," she said again, reaching to stroke his hair. "There's nothing we can do here, all right? How about we get you home?"
He lifted his head just a little. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, we can go over to your place."
"But my mom-"
"She's got your cousins. They're all out there. And you don't want to see any of them right now, anyway. You don't want to see anybody right now."
He took a deep, shuddering breath. "No..."
"Then c'mon. Let's go." She looked at him hopefully, red-eyed and shaking, and raised her eyebrows at him. "Make you feel better."
"I..." Eddie hesitated.
"Eddie, I'm so sorry. For... for everything."
He knew exactly what she meant, and took another deep breath, this time more resolute. "Yeah. You're right. Let's get out of here."