Tuesday, January 8

I woke up the next day on my bed. My body ached, my head pounded, my knuckles, bandaged and sore. Wrapped around them was twice the size of mine - Jason's. He must have dozed off. He was cute when he was sleeping, but even in his sleep, he still looked worried. Did he bring me here? Was he up all night? Did I bother him? I probably burdened him by having him worry about me. I haven’t even realized I was panicking, my smallest movement made his head and body come almost instinctively jerking up, frantic and worried as always.

"Are you hungry? Do you need anything? Want me to help you -" he bombarded, a question after another, he was sweet to worry about me and that's what I've always loved about him. Trying to hush him, my hand shakily extended to press them on his lips but he caught it midair and twined them with his.

"No, I'm alright thanks for worrying about me." I say passing him a wry grin of my thanks, "How did you get here?"

"Your mom called,” he said, “she was worried saying you hang up on her when you heard the bad news... I'm so sorry Paige..." he kissed my injured hand, wiping away the trails of tears suddenly rolling off my eyes "you had me worried kiddo..."

"Thanks, Jason..." I blinked them away, coughing a little. I hate having him see me like this. I felt ugly.

"As always you can't take care of yourself..." he joked picking up one of my striped clothing with a finger, a blush crept at my cheeks, tainting them a patch of dark red and I had to look away. Remind me to hide them when he leaves.

It was so like him to lighten the mood after something so serious, he totally understands me, he knew if any more mentioning of my father occurred, I just might hurt myself. I was close to both of them after all.

"Yes I can..." my words came out in a sheepish ramble,

"Liar..." he hissed playfully, those hazel cat eyes going slit and suspicious, as if proving me guilty, "How long have you been alone Paige?" his eyes danced warily at my pitiful figure "you know instant noodles won't keep you alive for a year!"

"I survived five months didn't I?" I countered matching his scolding tone, hoping after all the years I'll be able to finally win an argument against him. He, however, didn't seem like he'd want to lose this fight either and crossed his arms above his chest, a semi duck-pout crossing his lips.

"Explains why you're even lighter than the last time I carried you..." he teased easing his posture and now clearing the hair off my face, I tried to remember when he'd last carried me, if he left after high school... then it was probably eight years back in pre-school, no way he's exaggerating, I can't be that light!

"You could have called." He added, nearly a whisper.

"You were busy and things have changed between us... You even said we have to be professional..."

"Your family Paige," he rebuked like he always did, "I'll do anything just to make you happy and I'll be with you every step of the way. I'll be your shoulder to cry on, if you need a hug I'll give it to you free of charge, I live across the street and there's my mom all you need to do is say the word or put us on speed dial..."

He was right. Even if he didn't say it I knew he'd always look out for me, we were like family after all. I hugged the pillow beside me feeling warm and content with what he said. "Thanks, Ankie"

He raised that perfectly trimmed eyebrows of his as if out of total shock, "The little runt remembers my nickname?"

I chuckled at his mockery it's true I did remember his nickname I mean come on, who wouldn't? He was my best friend after all and it was the closest to intimacy were going to get. It was my nickname for him and it was mine alone, only I could call him Ankie.

“So why did you call me Ankie anyway?” He pursed his lips.

“How can you forget?!” I gaped

He shrugged. “All I remember is that you had this funny accent when you were like, four.”

I did remember that too because I had a short (probably even twisted) tongue, everything I said came out funny. Ankle became uncle and knees became niece.

“I fell down and hurt my knee and you bullied me.” I glared at him.

“I did not bully you,” he chuckled, leaning so close my heart skipped a beat, “I laughed with you.”

“I got mad so I kicked your ankle and you were like…”

"Ow, my Ankie!" We both yelled in unison and burst out laughing.

I missed this. Laughing without any barriers or awkwardness existing between us. It was just me and Jason reminiscing every fond memory we shared in this very room.

"It's good to have you back Jason." I looked up at him, at some point during our ‘catch up’ session he pulled himself in bed with me, lying on his side as I used his arm as the perfect body pillow.

He kissed my forehead with those soft heart-shaped lips of his, "Anything for you kiddo." He whispered and at that very moment, life was good and I couldn't ask for more.