What's Your Sign?

Nate originally predicted that Ivy would be the nurturing and motherly type, especially when it came to injuries. That wasn't the case at all.

He tried not to cringe when she pressed the rag full of ice to his face. It wasn't meant to cause him extra pain, but the extra pressure was surely meant to be felt. He knew that much.

Ivy waited for his hand to take her place in holding the homemade ice pack. She wiped her damp palms on her thighs and sighed that annoyed sigh. Then she sat herself in a wooden chair across from his.

Nate tried to find a comfortable position. Ivy tried not to look directly at him. Both failed miserably.

"Are you angry?" Nate decided to ask instead of guess on his own.

Ivy stayed motionless. She was somewhere deep in thought, staring at a place in the floor beside Nate's foot.

"Ivy?"

"I'm not angry."

"Then what's wrong?"

She shook her head slowly. "I think I need to focus on Nina now."

Nate wasn't expecting a subject change. "Right, okay."

Ivy glanced at him briefly. "She's a bit scared of the whole thing, and she doesn't really have anyone else."

Nate nodded. "She needs you, then."

Ivy rephrased. "I don't know how much spare time I'll have in the next few months."

"I understand." Nate shifted the clump of ice on the bridge of his nose, still missing her point entirely.

Ivy was looking too pale. Nate yearned to splash some pink into her cheeks. "Nathan," She wouldn't look at him at all now.

Nate heard the tremor in her voice. He set his ice on the countertop and hurried to comfort her. "Ivy, don't be upset. I'll help you if you need me."

"Nathan, you've only known me for two weeks. You shouldn't care so much that you would take a fist to the face."

He dragged the chair closer to her and sat in it so their knee caps were touching. He took Ivy's hand with his skinned knuckles and brought her smooth ones to his lips.  

She spit it out fast, like ripping off a band-aid. "I'm not looking for anything serious right now."

Nate felt her blood run cold beneath her skin. Her statement flew right through both ears. "You what?"

She pulled her hand away and stared at that spot on the floor again. "I don't need to be worrying about you putting yourself in harm's way when I have to look after Nina."

"Ivy, this is nothing." He pointed at his face. "I would take a hundred of these for you."

"Stop it!" It was definitely the wrong thing to say on Nate's part. "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

"It shouldn't be. I don't want you to feel that way." She crossed her arms like an angry child.

Nate chuckled, using his smirk as a backup. "It's too late for that."

Ivy's false anger began to fade, and now she relied on her stamina to keep her from crying. "My horoscope told me that I need to focus on Nina and push everything else away, no matter how important."

Nate blinked. "They can't make you do that."

"They made somebody kill my brother, so why not?"

Nate almost fell apart then and there, like a popsicle stick house built with crappy glue. "What do you mean?"

Ivy waved her hand in the air like it was no big deal. "They found an extra pair of tire marks on the street where the accident happened. There was another car involved."

He had to tell her. He had to tell her now. "Oh."

Maybe it was better that she push him away. That way if she found out, it wouldn't be as disastrous. But God, he had to tell her before she found out on her own.

"Ivy --"

"I mean, who has the guts to just drive away? Just because they got a second chance at life doesn't mean that they deserve it."

Nate's stomach was swirling like a toilet bowl. He stood up too quickly, causing his head to spin as well. "I have to go."

Ivy didn't say anything until he was halfway out the door. "Nathan, wait."

Nate honestly wished she just let him go. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

She squeezed his hand and rubbed her thumb over it, finally looking into his eyes. "Thank you."

Nate didn't need to hear it, nor did he want to. "Sure." He hussled to his car and jammed the keys into the ignition.

He drove like a maniac, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. What bothered him was his gurgling stomach, his swirling head, and his guilty conscience.

She would find out, and she would hate him. How could she ever forgive him? Maybe if he said something right away, but he let it go on for far too long. There was no way she could forgive him. He lost her forever. It was time to move on.

Even so, it all became too much. He pulled over to the side of the road and stumbled out of the car, searching for a batch of leaves at the edge of the treeline. He hunched over, hands on his knees, and waited a moment.

Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer. Nate vomited violently, all over the poor leaves on the ground.

After he finished, his blood pressure dropped and he definitely felt calmer than before. His head still swirled, but he got back in his car and merged onto the road.

This time, he drove well below the speed limit.