Paper Cranes

Elizabeth

"Don't be so depressed," Cathy said as she scrubbed my back in the lamp's dim light, "He'll be back."

"I'm not depressed." I splashed the water. Cathy chuckled, shampooing my hair.

"You sure don't act like it," I could hear her grin from behind me.

"Well, if I am depressed, it's only because I have a temperature of a hundred and seven," I huffed, blowing bubbles off of my hands, "And I can't bathe myself."

Cathy laughed, her tone softening, "You know, since he's been coming around, you've been a hell of a lot happier."

I cringed.

"Did I pull your hair?"

"No. The water just feels weird," I lied.

I lectured myself in my head about lying and what not.

"Hey, how about I brush your hair tomorrow morning so you'll look even prettier for him?"

A blush crept onto my already red-with-fever face.

"What makes you think I want to look pretty for Brendon?" I asked, my voice getting a bit higher.

Damn that Brendon. Not only was he trying to break down my walls, but he was stealing pieces away as well so I couldn't build it back up. Lately, the mere mention of his name made me want to blush, but I usually fought it away.

"Oh, please." I could practically see Cathy roll her eyes, "You two have the hots for each other."

I rolled my eyes. Were all grown women like this, or was it just Fay and Cathy?

I groaned, "If one more person says that, I'll die." I joked.

Cathy's hand froze in the middle of my head. Wow, what a joke.

"I'm only kidding," I assured. She let out the breath she seemed to be holding.

"Don't kid like that, it's not funny," she scolded in that same softened tone, "We don't know if-"

"If what? If I'm going to die? Who cares? We all know I am. Everyone has to."

"Not at seventeen."

"Seventeen and a half," I corrected. Actually, I was way past a half.

"Stop being so pessimistic!" she demanded in that unfamiliar tone. The tone of a mother. The tone my real mother never used.

"Stop being in denial!"

"Elizabeth Anne-"

"Okay, okay! I'll stop!" I sighed in defeat.

"Good."

It was silent for a while as Cathy rinsed out shampoo with a completely drenched sponge.

"Why do you talk to me like that?" I wondered curiously.

"Like what?"

"Like a mother."

"Well," she inhaled, "I'm not able to have children. So, you're the closest I'll probably ever get."

"Why not just adopt?"

"It's not that simple." She poured water down my soapy back, "I'm not married and I don't think I ever will be, to tell you the truth, so they won't let me."

"Oh."

It was silent again. I felt the long forgotten pull through my hair.

"What are you doing?" I asked, flinching and trying to hide how alarmed I was.

"Brushing your hair." I could hear Cathy's smile in her voice.

I thought of how I overreacted in just the slightest bit and pulled my knees to my chest. Cathy laughed too, though I didn't know what she thought was funny.

"Cathy," I started. She grunted in response and, ever so slowly, a smile etched its way onto my face, "You can think of me as your hospital daughter."

She sniffed a few times, and I didn't even feel my expression change to worry.

"Cathy...are you...are you crying?"

"Y-yeah, a b-bit. B-but I'll be o-okay," she sniffed as she finished rinsing out my hair.

It was then that I realized that what had been dripping on my back wasn't the water in my hair, but the tears she had been shedding.

"Aw, Cathy." I wanted to hug her, "Don't cry!"

My hand found hers and I gave it a squeeze. She gave a content sigh through her nose as she dried my hair, releasing my hand almost reluctantly to move toward a cabinet.

Then the door opened, completely ruining the rather warm moment.

Brendon

"Hey, Ry?"

"Hm?"

"Do we have any chips?"

"Mhm."

"Do we have any soda?"

"Mhm."

"What about cookies?"

"Mm-mm."

"I'm going to go get some!" I declared, jumping off the couch and heading for my bunk to get my shoes. It would be our last week in the tour bus, and then we'd have to give it back. It's a shame, though, because the tour bus was the only part of the rockstar lifestyle I never got tired of. None of us did, so we decided to live out of it until we had to say good-bye and go to our as-normal-as-it'll-get lives for two or three weeks.

"Right now? But it's almost midnight."

"Yeah, but that twenty-four hour Super Wal-Mart a few blocks from here," I lied, knowing Ryan was to tired to realize, or even remember, that it was on the other side of town.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm taking your car."

"Okay."

After I 'stole' Ryan's keys, I got into the car and started it up, peeling away from the bus.

Why was Ryan the only one who thought of going to get his car from his house and driving it all the way to the tour bus? Spencer didn't even think of that. Well, Jon would've if his car wasn't a million miles away.

Come to think of it, Jon's flying back to Chicago tomorrow so I'm probablynot going to see Elizabeth in the morning going to have to spend all morning with the guys in an airport as a little going-away party.

Yippy.

I pulled into the hospital's almost empty parking lot.

I promised myself that I'd say goodnight, if she wasn't already asleep, and go back to the bus.

That's it.

Then again, I only had to be back before eight- No! No Brendon, bad! Baaaad! You are going to go in, say goodnight, and come back out. That's it! You promised!

Before I realized where exactly I was standing at the moment, I turned a doorknob. The doorknob.

And I pushed the door open.

Two women stared at me, one from the cabinet and another from a tub of water. The only stare that mattered was Elizabeth's, and she stared rather blankly.

"I-"

"Out!" Cathy screeched, shoving me into the hall. "Don't you ever knock?!"

The door shut and I stared at the numbers on it.

Knock. Why didn't I think of that?

The image of Elizabeth, sitting innocently in that tub with her legs pulled to her chest, not one "area" showing. He hair was plastered to her skin, long and thin. Her face, unsure of what to express, staring at me.

She was beautiful, like the fantasy girls in the paintings.

Except she was real.