Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

“I heard a little,” she said, and I could hear the amusement
in her tone.
“Michael, too?”
When she didn’t answer, I knew.
Dammit.
“It’s okay,” she soothed, coming over and dabbing
something on my forehead. I hissed at the sting of a cut I
didn’t realize I had. Must’ve gotten it in the accident last night.
I frowned. “What you must think.”
Every moan and cry that left my mouth last night raced
through my head, and I was a little mortified. Private things
needed to stay private, because not everyone would
understand. I could just see her and Michael coming down to
make sure we were okay last night and hearing what they
heard. It must’ve seemed so shallow.
“I’m thinking… I understand,” she told me. “And you
don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
I appreciated her manners, but still…
She cleaned my cut, remaining quiet for a moment, and
then affixed a Band-Aid to my hairline.
“Our life is a series of plans,” she finally said. “Days,
weeks, months, years… And then, there are moments.
Moments you don’t see coming and you don’t plan, but
everything you need, all the things you want to feel, are in that
moment.”
I listened to her, letting it sink in.
“People come together, and for a tiny space of time,” she
went on, “it’s beautiful and raw, because you can’t think and
you don’t want to. You just feel.” She paused and then
continued. “The moments are what we remember.”
People come together. So…
“You and Michael and…?”