Namid

Namid

"I'm fine."

Ken hisses as his shoulder jostles when the gurney hits another dip in the gravel driveway.

"I'm fine. It's an arm, not a neck."

I squeeze his hand tighter as a laugh that's barely more than a sob shakes itself from my throat. I can feel how much he hurts. He's being brave, but I can feel that he's scared. If he's ever been hurt this badly, it hasn't been during the decade I've known him.

We're at the ambulance, and they're trying to load him, but I won't let go of his hand. I can't let go of his hand. I need to help him; I need to do something. Anything.

I'm no good to anyone in situations like this.

"You need to let us get him into the ambulance. He's going to be okay, but we need to get him to the hospital." The EMT's voice sounds like it's echoing through a long tunnel, and they're trying to pry his hand away from mine .

"It's okay. Just let us get him loaded and you can ride with us."

Panic.

Pure, ice-cold, blood-curdling panic.

I shake my head, and my hand is trembling and gripping his so tightly.

"No. He'll be staying here." Ken's voice seems so far away.

I try to fight the burn in my lungs and the sting in my eyes.

"It's okay. I know you need to stay here. I'll make sure the doctors know to call you as soon as they can." He's the one who's hurt, but he's trying to take care of me. He knows I can't go with him.

The medic finally wins. He pries my hand away, and I can only stare, frozen in place by panic. Ken needs me, and I can't go with him. I can't and he knows I can't, and he says it's okay, but it's not. It's not okay that I can't.

"Hey."

Ken nearly yells to get my attention, and his gaze is soft and loving when my eyes snap to his.

"It's okay, kiddo."

I fall to my knees as they close the doors, and Jayce's hand that has been on my shoulder blade this whole time shifts down my arm as he sinks to a squat in front of me.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay. "

His arms are around me, and I'm shaking so hard I might break. He's so strong and warm, and all I want to do is disappear into his embrace.

"Let's get in the truck, and we'll head to the hospital and…"

"I can't." My sob cuts him off.

Pain .

Pain and fear and desperation and anguish.

So much of it.

I can't be at the hospital.

"I can't." All I can do is repeat myself as I curl against his chest on my knees in the long gravel driveway.

"It's okay. I'll be with you; we can just…"

"I can't!"

I'm yelling and my hands are fisted in the front of his shirt so tightly my knuckles have turned white, and Jayce pulls me tighter into his arms as I sob. His hand is running along my spine, and his breath travels along my temple.

"Okay."

"That's okay."

"It's going to all be alright."

Jayce is telling me that it's okay, and it feels like he means it. He's confused, but it doesn't feel like he's upset with me. He doesn't know. He doesn't know who I am…what I am.

I love Ken like a father, and I can't help him. I can't hold his hand and reassure him that he's going to be alright. I can't be there like he's been there for me because I'm so different and so broken and so wrong.

Jayce holds me while I cry. He holds me until I'm wrung out and there are no tears left to fall.

He's confused. Worried.

"Come on," I say with a sigh that nearly breaks me.

"I need to explain."

Jayce is silent as I settle him at my dining table and move to make coffee. He's never been in my cabin before, and under any other circumstances, I'm sure I'd be a nervous wreck having him here, but in this moment, focusing on the task at hand is all that's holding me together. He doesn't interrupt me as I grind the beans, and boil the kettle, and place mismatched mugs on the counter in my small kitchen. He knows I need a moment, even though he doesn't really understand why. He's scared now. Scared and confused. Scared of what I might need to say. He doesn't understand why we're not on the way to the hospital with Ken.

I settle in across from him and stare into my cup. I can't look at him while I explain. I'll feel what he feels either way, but I can't bring myself to watch if he decides to leave. If he decides to hate me. I can't watch our friendship fade away in an instant.

"I'm going to tell you some things. Things I maybe should have already told you, but I haven't known how, and I need you to know that if you have nothing to say, if you want to just stand up and walk away, I'll understand. I'll let you go, and I won't follow you or reach out or text or call you again."

When Jayce reaches across the table for my hand, I pull it back. If I scare him, I'll feel it. Of course, I'll feel it. But I don't want it to be as intense as it will be if he's touching me. He is so much more to me than I've ever imagined anyone could be, even though most of what I feel is one sided. Not touching him when he decides to leave is the only thing I can do to protect myself, even though it's far too little, far too late.

"You don't know who I am...I mean, you don't...I don't…"

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

How do you tell someone you're secretly in love with that you're a freak?

"I'm different."

"I know that. I love that about you." His fingers reach for my arm once more, and once more, I pull away.

I shake my head.

"No. Not like quirky or endearing or bless his heart different. I mean really different."

I sigh as my shoulders slump even further. My table is so small, and we're so close together that I can almost feel his breath.

"I can feel things. Not can I guess…that implies a choice. I feel things. Emotions. I feel what others do. Not in like an ‘Oh, that guy is sensitive or empathic' kind of way. I feel things in a way I've never even read about. I feel all of them. It's why I keep to myself. It's why I don't to uch anyone. I feel other people's emotions as if they're my own."

He doesn't feel scared. He feels confused but not scared as I force myself to lift my eyes.

"How? Is it from whatever accident you were in before Mr. Johnson found you?"

I can't help the sigh that slips from my lungs.

"I don't know. When I first told the doctors, they didn't really understand what I meant. I didn't know how to deal with it at first when I was in the hospital. All I knew was I felt fear and pain, and all they knew was they couldn't find anything wrong with me."

I watch my fingers play with the handle of my mug so that I don't have to watch his beautiful eyes study me like I belong in a lab somewhere.

"With no medical explanation, they brought in a psychologist who did two full days of testing, thinking I might be schizophrenic or something, but eventually, Ken could see they were making it worse. He told them it was enough and took me home."

I risk another brief glance up, and while he still doesn't feel afraid of me, his brow is furrowed in concern.

"Those first couple of years, we did a lot of research, talked to a lot of experts. We flew to Portland once to talk to someone who said they specialize in things like this, but in the end, they hadn't met anyone like me. We've never found any real answers. I don't know if something is broken because I sustained a head injury that didn't show up in the tests or if I was born this way…I don't even know if I'm human, I guess. Sometimes I don't feel like it."

Jayce's fingers reach for mine across the table, and I don't pull away this time. He hasn't run yet, and I want to feel his skin against mine in case it's my last chance. I know he doesn't feel the same way I do; I'd be able to tell if he did, but I can't help wanting his touch anyway.

His thumb slides along my skin in the silence.

When he finally speaks, his voice is gentle and strong.

"I don't know what I believe in, Namid. I don't know if I believe in a god or aliens or faeries or science, but I know that I'm not so closed minded as to question what someone tells me is their truth. There are so many things in this universe that we don't understand, and not understanding something doesn't make it scary or wrong."

My eyes burn as I force my gaze up to search his face, my arm twisting so that I can clutch at his hand with mine.

"I'm not going to stop being your friend because you're unique." His smile is gentle and accepting and it feels like the mid-summer sun shining against my skin.

"If you say this is how you are, then this is how you are."

I can't stop the shuddering sob that lodges in my throat, making my voice deep and harsh.

"Thank you."

His hand squeezes mine, and his smile broadens .

"How close do you need to be to feel someone?"

I shrug. "It's not exact. It depends on how strong their feelings are. Pretty close. A room or two away when I'm inside."

"Could you wait in the hospital parking lot?"

Panic .

I shake my head and tighten my grip. "No. People heading in…visiting or to get care…I can feel them as they walk past. I know the hospital here is small, but it's still just…it's too much."

He nods thoughtfully. "Okay. My house is a couple of miles away from the hospital. Why don't I drive you there, and then I'll head over and wait for Ken. I can call you as soon as I know anything."

Warmth rushes through me. Comfort and desire and gratitude, and I'm overwhelmed by his kindness.

"You'd do that?"

"Of course."

He stands and pulls me tightly into his arms before I can move away, and my body melts against his completely.

"Thank you. I can't thank you enough."