The Natives

I looked down at my hand. I couldn't move it- couldn't feel it- and I wanted assurance it was still there. Matt held my good hand, his blood-stained shirt slung over his shoulder, and Aron stood next to me. I smiled at each of them.

"I'm fine," I said.

The stitches hadn't hurt, I'd just had to look away while they were doing it. I could imagine all the blood there was, and I didn't like that thought. My hand was wrapped tightly with bandages, and I'd been given pain medication to take. Honestly, I was fine now that my hand didn't have a gaping hole in it.

"I just worry about you, Kara," Aron sighed. "You seem to be accident prone these days."

"I haven't died, have I?" I said.

"Not yet you haven't," Aron replied. "I don't want to have to call up Mom and tell her you've gone and died on us."

"I'm not gonna die, A," I said.

The doctor came in and flipped through his clipboard. Matt kissed the back of my hand, and I smiled.

"Well, Miss Erlichman, you're free to go," said the doctor. "If you have any troubles, don't hesitate to come in. You're lucky you've got these fine boys taking care of you."

He patted Matt and Aron on the shoulder and handed me a paper. I took it, thanking him. He nodded and left us alone. Aron looked between Matt and me, and he shook his head.

"I'll meet you guys out in the car, alright?" he said, not waiting for a response before turning and leaving.

Matt took my release papers and sat down on the bed next to me. He looked at me, sighing gently, and I ran my good hand through his curly hair. He chuckled.

"He's right, you know," he said. "You're awfully accident prone."

"We've only ended up here once, haven't we?" I said.

"True," Matt said.

He took my good hand and helped me off the bed. I could tell the next couple weeks were going to be hell. My right hand was the hand I did everything with. I relied on that hand to feed me, hold my phone, and pretty much everything else I did in every day life.

Didn't help that I knew Matt would never let go of my only good hand now.
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"...and they all lived happily ever after," said Jordan, closing the book.

I sat in my bed- I'd been confined there until Aron said I was free to go. I was a prisoner in my own home, and I hated it. Jordan and George had come over to give me a bit of company, and Jordan thought it'd be funny to read me a story. I rubbed the bridge of my nose and smiled at him.

"Wow," I said. "Thanks, Jordan. Didn't know you could read."

"It's a good thing I don't hate you," Jordan chuckled. "Besides, I figured you'd fall asleep after awhile."

"I wanted to," I replied. "Didn't wanna be rude, Jordy."

I smiled at him, and he tossed the book across the room. He settled back in his chair and looked at me.

"So, Miss Kara, anything exciting happen to you?" he asked.

I eyed him and said, "I'm sure you'd like to know, wouldn't you?"

"That's why I'm asking," Jordan said. "What could possibly have made Kara Erlichman so distracted that she cut her hand open enough to get stitches?"

"Matt already told you, didn't he-"

"Yup-"

"Little fucker." I scrunched my nose and sighed. "Well, it's not official yet, so don't say anything."

"You may want to tell him that," Jordan laughed. "Considering he told me, George, Jay, Meredith, Dillon, Lauren-"

"Are you kidding me?" I said. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, he made a big deal out of it too," Jordan said.

"Ass!" I exclaimed.

Jordan chuckled, "Sorry."

I shook my head and swung my legs off the bed. "Aron can't hold me here forever," I said.

Jordan shrugged and said, "I'll tell him you punched me."

I looked at him, and he offered a hand to help me up. Matt was not going to get away with this. He couldn't go around telling people about us, when we hadn't really even talked about it much. Damn men and their talking issues.