He climbed up the ivy into his own room, fear and determination wrinkling his forehead. Wrinkling his nose was the heavy odor of garlic. He wouldn't mind it so much (after all, his mother's hand was heavy when adding it over the cooking pot) except it was so strong. As he lit a candle, he could see it everywhere, the white bulbs hanging against the wooden walls so that almost none of the wood showed through. Shrugging, he crawled into bed. In the next room, his parents heard his nocturnal activity, and his mother cried.
The next morning Adrian awoke early, before his parents were up, eager to see if Anne had recovered yet. He ate breakfast rapidly, and ran to her house.
Anne's parents let him in, and with a promise not to wake her if she was asleep, he opened the door to her room. She was awake, but drowsy. "Adrian," she said, recognizing him. She was weak, but her adventurous spirit shone through. "Let's go back... to the ruin and... play Siege the Castle."
"Maybe tomorrow. You were out like a candle, Anne, it's probably not a smart idea to be running around today."
"Do you have... to sound... like my mother?" teased Anne, voice still wavering.
"If she told you, 'Maybe tomorrow, you were out like a candle, Anne,' then yes. I do. You sure gave me a scare. I... uh... worry about you."
But she wasn't listening. Instead she stared off into space, humming the gypsy tune. Taking a hint, Adrian turned to go.
"Wait," she said as he reached the doorway. "...Thank you for saving me."
He was halfway to school before he started wondering if she meant more than avoiding a few bruises as she fell.