The District Lights

Ever since Nina was a little girl, she had always taken an interest in the arts. At first it was dancing, she tried everything from tap to ballet. When she found out that she had two left feet, Nina took to piano and the violin. That didn't work out so well either, since she was as tone deaf as it got.

Finally, Nina started to paint. For a child, she was as good as it got. She was able to create things well beyond a house, a dog and her family. Nina took further interest in painting and sketching by begging her parents to enroll her into an art class.

While many other children her age would go outside and play, Nina would spend most of her days perfecting her passion. She would draw and paint many caricatures, portraits, landscape and scenery. If she wasn't painting and drawing, she would be reading and looking at books about various artists.

Finally, after all her hard work and dedication, Nina was accepted to one of the most prestigious art schools around, the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

Everything was going well for Nina. That was until she got a phone call one night. It was the worst night of her short life. Her world came crashing down like a deck of cards; Nina didn't know what to think.

She got a call from the police, explaining that her parents were involved in a car crash and that they were taken to the hospital, both undergoing emergency surgery. They called saying that Jack was hysterical and was yelling for her.

It was the worst night of her life. She waited in the hospital, holding on to Jack, hoping for good news about their parents. There wasn't any. Both died on the operating table, Olivia with a collapsed chest and Richard with a failed heart.

Hair in a messy bun, paint all over her face, clothes and exposed body parts, Nina was heavily concentrated on her next painting that she didn't hear the door bell, it also didn't help that she had her iPod on full blast. Jack came barreling out of his room screaming that someone was at the door.

Jack's eyes widened when he saw his hero, Patrick Kane, at his door. His jaws dropped to the floor as he blatantly stared at the young hockey player.

"Hey," he greeted Jack coolly. "Is your sister home?"

Jack just nodded and ran to the living room. He shook Nina roughly in excitement. "Nina! Nina! Nina!"

"What?" she asked with a slightly raised voice completely annoyed. Jack knew not to bother her whenever she was painting.

"Patrick Kane is at our house!" he replied excitedly, ignoring the fact that Nina was annoyed with him.

Eyes widening, she ripped the earphones from her ears and got up. She leaned to the side just enough to see Patrick standing awkwardly by the front door, but he couldn't see her. Biting her lip, Nina took a deep breath and walked to the front door.

"Hi," she said with a mixture of surprise and confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Patrick shuffled his feet and took out a Blackberry from his jean pocket. "You, um, left this at my place the other day," he said, his hand outstretched.

Taking in her appearance, Patrick noticed that she was covered in different colors of paint all over her clothes and hair. She wore an old grey sweater that hung on one shoulder, old white shorts and her hair was tied in a messy bun. She looked completely comfortable, than all the times he had seen her. She looked natural.

Her eyes widened and she took her phone gratefully. "Thank you so much," she thanked him.

Giving her a small smile, he scratched the back of his neck. "No problem," he replied. "I should probably go," he said and turned around and started walking.

Closing her eyes, Nina sighed. She couldn't believe what she was about to do. "Hey, Patrick," she called out, making him turn around with a questioning look. "Do you want to stay a bit?" she asked.

Smiling, he nodded and walked back to her.

*

Nina drove as fast as she could to the hospital Patrick told her he would be. She didn't know why she'd be the one he would call for something like this, but she went anyways. If she was the only person he could call for a situation like this, it must have been serious.

Parking messily in a spot, she ran into the hospital, eyes keen on the numbers counting down until she reached the room number Patrick informed her he would be. She opened the door as quietly as she could, not knocking because Calla could be sleeping, she saw Patrick, his head down, sitting beside a sleeping Calla.

"Patrick?"

Patrick's head shot up when he heard Nina's voice. He sighed and got up, thankful that she came when he called. Not really thinking about what he was doing, he went and hugged her. "Thank you for being here," he breathed.

Shocked, Nina awkwardly patted his back. "How could I not? You sound so serious," she replied.

"Have a seat," he said, breaking the hug and pulling another chair beside his. "Thanks again for being here. It means a lot."

Nina gave him a small smile and looked back at a sleeping Calla. "No problem. How is she? Did Jonathan call or pick up yet?"

Shaking his head, Patrick went and held on to Calla's hand, tenderly caressing her small hand. "Doctors said she's resting, they stabilized her heart. Jon still hasn't called or picked up," he informed her. "I-I don't know what to do. I've never been so scared in my life before," he admitted.

Nina could tell that Patrick cared greatly for Calla. The way he acted around her and the way he treated her was different from the way he treated other girls or people he didn't know. She saw a whole other side of him that surprised her in a good way.

"Tell me about her." She gave Patrick a sideways glance. "Tell me about Calla," she said, noticing a smile come onto Patrick's lips.

"She's a great girl. Everyone loves her like a little sister; I mean she managed to get Tazer to think about something else other than hockey. She was actually the one that suggested we sponsor your group," he informed her.

Nina looked surprised. She didn't expect it to be Calla to be the one suggesting that they sponsor the support group. She always thought that Jonathan and Patrick just put a bunch of support groups in a hat and picked one.

"She was in the hospital for one of her check ups and she saw one of the kids in your group crying that he was going to miss one of our signings because he had to be at the hospital. I guess she knew how that felt and gave us your information," he explained.

A shocked look fell on her face, but she quickly recovered noticing the worried look on Patrick's face. He looked like he was in pain, like at any moment he was about to cry. It must hurt him to see someone he cared about in the hospital.

Taking his free hand that was resting in his side; she smiled when Patrick looked at her, giving her a small smile. She gave him a comforting smile back and squeezed his hand comfortingly. Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder and sat with Patrick in an easy silence, just watching Calla rest.