Breathless

Ch. 2: Heat

-:-:-:-:-:-

I opened my eyes just as the last rays of the sun were streaming through my curtains, throwing soft golden shadows about the room.

It took a long moment for me to adjust to being awake-lately, the fatigue was a permanent heaviness in my bones. I blinked my eyes a few times, warding off the blurriness. My throat felt dry and hoarse, and my leg was aching just as acutely as it had been before my - I glanced at the clock, noting that it read 6:37 - four hour nap.

With a great deal of effort, I managed to sit up in bed, wincing when the pain shot through my body. My mind felt sluggish with the foggy blanket of a too-long nap, and I realized that I really needed a shower.

My phone was vibrating underneath my good leg. Twisting my arm, I reached for it and flipped it open. 1 new message.

How are you today? Do you want me to bring your homework today or later this weekend?

Melissa's thoughtful text brought a small smile to my lips. I'm doing better, thanks, Melissa. You can bring it by Sunday. We both know I won't do it until Monday morning any way. Send.

Moments later, another buzz. He's still not here. In case you were wondering.

I felt a pain in my chest and had to swallow the lump that had developed in my throat. Ok, I sent back. What else was there to say?

I leaned back against the pillows, closing my eyes tightly against the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake me. The mental image of the man's hand on my wrist, his hand covering my desperate scream, falling down the steps, the pain-

I groaned and reached for the bottle codeine on my bedside table that was quickly becoming my best friend.

So, Jared still wasn't back at school. I wondered what sort of gossip was flying through the hallways, hoping it was a little more glamorous than the truth: he and his friends ditched me when I was too afraid to go in a bar with them and then I fell down some stairs and I can't go to school because I can't go the bathroom by myself and he's probably so disgusted with the idea of seeing my pathetic face in the halls that he's decided to become home schooled.

I had no memory of that night beyond falling down the stairs and hitting my head. When I awoke again, I had been lying in a hospital bed, my leg in a cast, my head wrapped in gauze, my wrist wrapped in some sort of tight bandage, and my mother, at my bedside, absolutely losing her shit- though I couldn't exactly blame her.

What the hell had happened that night?

It made a tight knot in my stomach to think about the fact that I didn't know who had ripped me from the grip of my attacker and thrown me down the steps. And why, as the doctors had informed me later, had he -or she, I supposed- brought me to the hospital himself instead of calling 911 like a goddamned normal person? Why just drop me off, without bothering to explain anything? And why the hell had Jared not been at school for two weeks?

Ok, thinking was quickly exhausting me. I wanted warm soup and a shower. I reached for the crutches propped against my nightstand; it took a good ten minutes before I was standing again, trying to hobble my way out of my room and towards the kitchen where I would have to - horrifyingly - ask for my mother's help in showering.

Goddammit.

An hour later, I was clean -well, as clean as I could be while really only being able to shower half of my body- and propped up on some pillows on the couch, staring blankly at the TV playing old reruns of That 70s Show.

"Mom," I said, having mentally rehearsed this conversation with myself while attempting to put on pants (an impossible feat with a leg cast). My mom peered at me from around the kitchen corner where she was busy cooking dinner (I guess your oldest daughter "accidentally tripping down some stairs" and ending up the hospital is enough to guilt-trip you into cooking actual meals for her regularly. I thought briefly what she would do if I decided to tell her what really happened that night; buy me a pony?).

"What is it, sweetie?"

"I want to go back to school on Monday. I really don't want to fall even more behind."

She frowned slightly, shifting her weight onto one hip. "I thought Melissa has been bringing you your homework."

"She has," I assured her hastily. "It's just, you know. I kinda need to be there in class to understand what's going on."

Her lips stretched into a thin line. "Are you feeling up to it?"

"Yeah," I lied. "My leg doesn't hurt that much. Melissa already told me she'll give me rides to school and help me around and stuff."

My mother appeared to consider this for a long moment. "Ok, honey, if you think you can manage. I don't want you going anywhere, though, I want you coming straight back home-"

"Mom," I said, and pointed dramatically at my useless leg. "I can barely make it to the bathroom. I'm not going anywhere. Relax."

She huffed indignantly before returning to her kitchen, and I figured it was the closest thing to her permission I was going to get.

I settled back into my pillows, trying to watch the TV, but my consciousness was wrapped up in something else entirely; I needed to figure out what the hell was going on Jared, and if he knew any more about that night at Port Angeles than I did. I wanted some answers.

-:-:-:-:-

He was nowhere to be seen.

Amidst questions about my health (I tripped, I know, I'm a huge klutz) and Melissa's insistent inquires (Are you ok? Can you walk there? I'm pretty sure the nurse has a wheelchair somewhere, I could help you get around), I spent the majority of the morning trying to spot the stupid asshole who had used me for a ride to Port Angeles, feeling somewhat disgusted with myself that I felt an equal urge to both scream at him and make sure he was all right.

English was approaching quickly, and I found myself incredibly anxious at the notion of seeing Paul and Embry. My accident hadn't been their fault, exactly- I did have enough sense to know that- but the fact that it wouldn't have happened without their interference was enough to get my blood boiling.

When I arrived in class, I couldn't help my eyes from immediately darting to the back corner of the room, where Embry and Paul were sitting in their usual spots by Jared's-empty-desk. They were decidedly avoiding eye contact with me. Bastards.

I hobbled my way to my seat, making sure to appear extra feeble (what good was a broken limb if you couldn't milk it a little for what it was worth, right?). Although settling into my seat took quite a bit of real, unfeigned effort, I managed to arrange my leg and my crutches in the most unobtrusive manner possible.

"Kim..." a low voice came from a few seats down from me. I felt my heart skip a beat as I met Embry's pained eyes. "Are you...ok?"

All my haughty, indignant, well-thought out replies (rehearsed briefly in my bathroom mirror that morning) died in my throat before I could even open my mouth. Instead, all that came out of my throat was an apprehensive, "Yeah," taking my dignity with it.

"Look, Kim, I'm really sorry..."

I felt a twinge of guilt for my display of helplessness earlier, and managed to say, "It's ok. I'll be fine."

Embry was visibly relieved. I spared a glance at Paul, who looked stoic and completely unengaged, and I knew that his silence was as much of an apology as I was going to get. Ok, fine. But now they were going to answer my questions.

"Where's Jared?" I asked, blurting out my most immediate concern.

Embry hesitated for a brief moment. "I don't know," he admitted, and from his look of frustration I could see he was just as bewildered as I was. "I haven't seen him since...um, since Port Angeles. I've heard that he's sick."

I could feel my brow furrowing, wanting to ask how sick, but a shush from Mr. Johnson reminded me that we were still in class and that I wasn't being particularly inconspicuous. I lowered my voice and leaned towards Embry, determined to gather as much information as possible. "Did one of you guys take me to the hospital? They said someone dropped me off, but I have no idea how I got there."

A muscle in Paul's jaw twitched marginally, that only sign that he was mentally engaged in the conversation.

"No," Embry said. "We didn't even realize..." he shook his head. "We found out from Jared's mom. She's a nurse and I guess she called us as soon as she saw you come in."

I sucked in a deep breath. "And she didn't say who brought me in?"

Embry shrugged. "If she saw, she didn't say anything to us."

I nodded once, sharply,. If it wasn't one of the guys who had rescued me from that pervert, who had?

The rest of the day dragged on in agonizing slowness. I was assured by all my teachers that I didn't need to worry about the work I'd missed, that they understood that I had gone through a rough time and they wanted to help me get back on track. I felt a profound sort of gratefulness at this simple act of kindness, and hoped that my murmurs of "thank you" expressed how much it meant to me.

Melissa drove me home in relative silence. I rested my forehead against the car window, watching as my hot breath spread little white circles of fog on the glass. I longed for codeine and sleep.

The instant I got home, I undertook the Herculean task of ascending the stairs to my room, and once there, I instantly collapsed into bed, where I felt into a deep, groggy sleep.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Kim!"

I gasped as Melissa collided into me, nearly losing my balance. I grabbed onto my locker door for support. "Jesus, Melissa, like I need more broken limbs!"

"Sorry," she mumbled. She glanced around the hallway, craning her neck to see if anyone was within earshot. I wanted to laugh at her comically wide eyes, but I figured it would get me in more trouble than it was worth. "Kim, he's back."

I faltered with my notebook for a moment, feeling my heartbeat come to a halt. "Did you see him?" I asked, attempting to sound only mildly interested, and failing miserably.

Melissa nodded, her eyes like saucers. "Kim, he's like..." she shook her head, breathless. "He's like the Incredible Hulk. Quileute style. Kim, it's like the freakiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

I tried to wrap my head around the nonsensical words spilling from her throat. "What? What are you talking about?"

"His hair- and god, he's like at least six inches taller-"

I gaped openly. "He's only been gone for two weeks, what are you talking about?"

Melissa growled in frustration, and yanked me with her across the hall, leaving my locker open and my stuff scattered across the hallway. What was going on?

"See for yourself," she hissed, and shoved me in front of her, pointing to Jared's locker and-

Holy. Shit.

"That...that's not possible," I stuttered stupidly.

The boy - man - before me was still Jared Cameron. His smile was wide and his eyes were sparkling with laughter as he talked with a few friends, just like the Jared I had known since kindergarten. But the changes I was seeing in him were literally impossible.

Jared was astoundingly, impossibly tall, at least six inches taller. And his previously lanky limbs were now inconceivably huge. He had the look of someone who spent hours every day lifting weights- no, lifting cars. How was this even possible?

"I don't get it," Melissa said, in just as much shock as I was. "Maybe he's on steroids."

"He doesn't play sports," I mused aloud, unable to take my eyes off of him. "Maybe it's...like, some freaky Quileute growth spurt...brought about by the flu, or something...Embry said he was sick..."

The sound of the bell reverberated throughout the hallway, signaling it was once again time for English. I felt butterflies start flying wildly in the pit of my stomach. I've got to ask him what happened to him...

Melissa led me to class in a daze, seeming to realize that I was pretty much incapable of any rational thought (or moving on my own). She helped me arrange my crutches on the floor before asking me something along the lines of "Are you ok?" to which I murmured some unintelligible response, because at that moment Jared sauntered into the classroom with a grace that was almost inhuman.

My eyes followed his every movement as he made his way back to his desk (will he even fit in that desk anymore?), aware that everyone else in class was following suit, including Mr. Johnson. Jared slumped into his seat, dropping his backpack to the floor with a thud. He turned to Embry and Paul, and I couldn't stop myself from saying it, his name was bubbling out of my mouth like I was a volcano about to erupt-

"Jared," I began, my voice sounding harsh and breathless-

And he turned to look at me.

And something happened that defied all explanation.

He met my eyes, his expression neutral. But in a split-second, his face was morphing into something entirely incomprehensible. His eyes grew wide, his jaw slacked open, and all I could register was that the earth was tilting and spinning and I was helplessly lost in its pull, lost in him.

Jared Cameron was staring at me.

There was a fierceness in his face that I could not identify as his eyes swept over my form. His eyes traced along my face, down my neck, past the "v" of my neckline, down my bony hips, to my broken leg, jutting out from underneath the desk, and at that, I could have sworn that I heard a growl from somewhere deep within his chest.

"Kim," he said breathlessly (and no one had anyone ever said my name like that before) and once again traced his eyes up back to my face. He reached out a tentative, shaking hand, and his fingers ever so slightly brushed against my cheek-

And I gasped, reflexively jerking backwards at the astounding heat I had felt against my skin.

And then I fell out of my seat.

It couldn't have been more than two seconds before I felt a body-hot as a furnace- beside me, an arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders, a strong hand cradling the back of my head, protecting it from where it would have hit the floor a mere split-second later.

"Are you all right? Kim?" a frantic voice was demanding.

Jared.

It took about three seconds for me to register that I was sprawled across the hard linoleum floor, my limbs tangled hopelessly with the desk legs around me, wrapped in Jared's embrace, and surrounded by a growing throng of students who were in just as much shock as I was.

It was too much.

My breaths started coming in shallow gasps, and I placed a hand to my chest, feeling my mind beginning to whirl at a thousand miles a minute- run, get away from here, you're going to die, you're going to go crazy and suffocate, all these people are watching you-

In an instant, I felt myself being lifted from the floor, utterly weightless. Jared's arms held me like a vice and I was being quickly carried out of the classroom. Reality swirled and tilted around me, like an insane, codeine-induced hallucination...

"Jared," I gasped, and the nauseating motion paused. "Put-put me down." Never thought I'd say those words to Jared Cameron.

"You need to go to the nurse," Jared insisted, resuming his hurried pace.

"No, please," I attempted once again. "I know what's wrong. I just- I just need a second, Jared, please."

The desperate tone of my voice seemed to break through his single-minded determination, and moments later I was being deposited gently on my feet (well, one foot, really), steadying hands keeping me from swaying to the ground. My eyes screwed shut, trying to block out the nausea.

"Are you ok? Kim? What's going on?"

Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. One. Two. Three. Four.

"Kim, what's happening?"

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

A growl. "I'm taking you to the nurse." His hands tightened on me, ready to sweep me me off my feet, but I swatted them away.

"Stop," I said, and felt steady enough to open my eyes. Jared was hunched over, his face inches from mine. His chocolate eyes were boring into me so fiercely that I almost gave into a second wave of panic, but I pressed my nails deep into the skin of my palms to keep myself grounded in reality. "I'm fine. I don't need to go to the nurse."

His hand reached up to brush stray hairs from my forehead, and I instinctively jerked away from his touch (Jaredwastouchingme and I was losing my mind).

"You can g-go back to class now," I stuttered, the heavy heat of mortification beginning to settle deep within my gut. I had fallen and panicked and Jared had had to carry me. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to run away, run from his probing eyes and all my weaknesses laid out bare before him. My arms crossed over my stomach and I felt so naked.

"I'm not leaving you alone out here," Jared whispered, his eyes still boring into my own. I averted my eyes quickly, knowing that if I met his gaze I would be undone.

"It's ok," I insisted, shaking my head. "I know you-you feel bad about what happened, but I'm fine-"

Jared wrapped his hand around my arm in a firm grasp. "Kim, no, we need to talk. Now."

I hesitated. Stall. "Um, ok. But I'm really not feeling great, so I think I'm going to go to the office and see if my mom can pick me up. Can we talk...later?"

Jared's face conveyed nothing short of utter annoyance, but I must have looked so pitifully awkward that he decided to allow me my escape. "Ok. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," I said firmly, shaking my head a bit more than was necessary. "I'll be fine."

Jared nodded. "Ok, wait here. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" I questioned him, but he was already jogging down the hallway. Moments later, he returned with my crutches in hand, and I felt my face flushing at my stupidity. "Thanks," I murmured when he reached me, and attempted to settle myself on them without looking impossibly foolish (not that it mattered at this point, I supposed).

Jared reached out again to touch my forehead with the tips of his (scalding) fingers, and propped on my crutches, I was powerless to shy away from them. "Will you be ok?" he asked, and if I hadn't known better, I could have sworn his voice was raspy with tenderness.

Does it matter to you? It didn't seem to a few weeks ago. I swallowed. "Yeah. I'll, um, see you Monday." Determined to end the conversation, I turned my back to him and limped my way down the hallway, trying not to picture him watching my exit with those probing eyes.

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To be continued...

Author's Note: on the off chance that any of you read this, I would like to let you know that I am hardly doing any homework/studying/eating because I am writing this fic so furiously. I love Jared and Kim, I love you guys, and I love reviews. Please make it all worthwhile for me! Even if you just write "good" or "horrible." I love it! 3