Saving Kelsea Ch. II

The rest of the day seemed to fly by for Warren. At least his classes were fairly tolerable and the majority of his teachers were decent. Getting around was difficult as it was, but being in a wheelchair only made it worse, and he was late to almost all of his classes.

When the final bell rang he felt like saying a prayer of thanks. He grabbed his coat from his locker and as he headed out of the building he got intercepted in the lobby. It was Patricia.

“What do you want, Patricia?” he asked.

Patricia bit her lip as she seemed to gather her thoughts. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about lunch. Sam can be a bit of a snob sometimes.”

Warren smiled unconcernedly. “It’s okay, even at my old school I was a bit of an outcast.”

She blinked at him. “Outcast? I thought you said you were on the football team?”

“I was, but that doesn’t necessarily put you on top. Nor does being a member of a team earn you respect from your peers,” he added looking down.

Patricia frowned. “What do you mean?”

Warren sighed heavily and shrugged. “I’ve never been one to give in to peer pressure, which naturally made me a freak. I never felt like I had to conjure up some image or be what others expected me to be in order to fit in. I just wanted to be myself.”

Patricia smiled. “I know how you feel.”

“Well, I have to get going now or else my aunt will be wondering where I am.”

Patricia nodded her agreement. “Is there any point in time when we could get together to work on that project for Mr. Bailey?”

Warren shrugged. “Sure.”

“To spare you the trouble of having to go anywhere do you want us to meet you at your house?” she offered.

Warren hesitated as he saw some people point suspicious glances in Patricia’s direction. “Um, I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine with having to get somewhere. Is there somewhere else we could meet?”

Patricia pursed her lips and looked from side to side as she thought. When she returned her eyes to Warren she smiled. “How do you feel about meeting Rendell, Caitlyn, Jessica, and I at Karrie’s Roadhouse at, say, six o’ clock?”

“What's Karrie's Roadhouse?”

Patricia glanced at him sideways. "How long have you been in town?"

"Since January; most of that time I was in the hospital and in a coma."

"A coma?" repeated Patricia, her voice sounding somewhere between sympathy and wonder.  "Why?"

"I don't particularly want to talk about it."  And Warren felt that it would probably not be on his list of conversation topics for a long while.

"Oh, well, Karrie's Roadhouse is probably the best restaurant in town."

Warren folded his arms. "I've been to several 'best restaurants in town'. What makes this one any different?"

Patricia hesitated. "This one has a karaoke stage?"

Warren drummed his fingers on his arm. "Interesting, but there's only one flaw."

"What's that?"

"I have no ride."

Patricia scoffed. "I can give you a ride."

“You don’t even know where I live.”

“Where do you live?”

“Five-eighty-seven Saunders Road."

Patricia raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that one of the richer neighborhoods?”

Warren hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Wait, don’t you have a ride home?”

He thought for a minute. “Um, I’m supposed to call my aunt when I’m ready to leave.”

“You don’t have to, I can drive you,” offered Patricia with a tempting smile.

Warren stared at her for a long moment. Her blue eyes were perfectly sincere and somehow her overall beauty didn’t seem to make him blush. “You know, I believe I could use a ride. Thanks.

“No problem.” She grabbed the back of his wheelchair and she pushed him forward.

When they got outside Warren saw that though the sky was still heavily clouded, it was no longer raining. She wheeled him towards a Cadillac SUV and he saw that a few people were waiting by it. He recognized them as Caitlyn and Jessica. They turned once they saw us coming and they smiled.

“Hey, Patricia,” they said.

“You brought Warren?” asked Jessica befuddled.

“He has no ride,” explained Patricia. “I offered him one.”

“Oh, okay, he can take shotgun.”

“That’s really not necessary,” said Warren. He was growing tired of everyone being so sympathetic towards him. Frankly, he was no different from them, although people seem to overlook it and just see the wheelchair.

“No, it’s okay,” Jessica insisted.

“So, could you two put his wheelchair in the trunk for me?” asked Patricia.

“Sure,” said Caitlyn, smiling.

Patricia came over to Warren’s side and she slid an arm under his legs and the other behind his back. He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her neck while she scooped him out of the chair.

“Door, please?” she asked no one in particular.

Caitlyn came over and opened the door for them. Patricia gently set Warren down on the seat. Once everyone was in the car she started it and they were off. Contrary to what he expected, Patricia's car was nothing like he expected to be like in a cheerleader's car. He was used to their cars smelling horribly like perfume and sometimes have loud chart-toppers playing loudly over the radio. Patricia's car was far from that. The leather seats were devoid of decoration and while there was a faint touch of perfume in the air, it wasn't intoxicating. On top of all of that, he did not even recognize what was playing on the radio.

The four of them were quiet for a few minutes until Jessica decided to break the silence.

“Hey, Warren we saw how Sam hurt your feelings in the cafeteria and we just wanted to say sorry,” she said.

Warren slouched in his seat. Why must people be so sympathetic to the paraplegic? It was short term for crying out loud! “It’s okay,” he said eventually. “Out of curiosity, where is she from?”

The three girls in the car laughed.

“You noticed her accent?” asked Jessica. “Her mother’s British and her dad’s American. Her parents separated when she was five and she lived in Britain until she was thirteen.”

“Is she always so snobbish?” asked Warren.

“Um, she can be bit of a bitch sometimes and she knows it.”

“But at the same time she can be the nicest girl in the world,” added Caitlyn.

“Especially towards the ones she cares about,” finished Patricia.

“And none of us really care that she doesn’t like you; we do and you could use some friends,” said Jessica with finality.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Warren felt that he was beginning to see the sincerity that they were expressing. Oh, what the hell just give these girls a chance to grow close to you, he thought to himself.

“So, what do you think of Southside High, so far, Warren?” asked Patricia as they drove down the highway.

He thought for a moment as he watched cars and dense trees with the various colors of autumn go by. “Um, it has a stairway leading up to the front of the building; something that Gar-Mac lacked. I’ve been approached by more people in one day than I was when I was a freshman or sophomore combined. Usually my personality would draw people away from me. I met more friendly jocks than when I was surrounded by team members. Teachers are decent.”

Caitlyn whistled. “Wow, sounds like you’ve had quite a day.”

“Tell me about it. Hey, I like this song.” He was listening to the radio and “Fall for You” by Secondhand Serenade began playing. Without thinking he began singing along.

When the song ended the car was silent. Warren looked behind him and Caitlyn and Jessica were staring at him with slack jawed expressions. And Patricia would’ve stared at him the exact same way if she wasn’t the one behind the wheel.

“What?” he asked.

“You,” whispered Patricia.

“Have,” said Caitlyn.

“An awesome voice,” shouted Jessica gleefully.

“Where did you learn to sing?” demanded Caitlyn.

Warren shrugged. “Nowhere, I was in church choir for quite a few years and I can sing four whole octaves.”

“How impressive,” said Patricia. “Okay, I’m almost on Saunders Road, you’re gonna have to direct me the rest of the way.”

“Okay.” He tried his best to hide his nervousness about them seeing his place of residence.

Warren lazily watched the houses go by until they came upon his. “This one’s mine.”

Patricia sat frozen as she came to a stop at a large house. The whole house could have been divided into three sections: the front of the house was built in an arch, almost reminiscent of a Catholic citadel and to the right side of the house was a tall cylindrical tower that was one story higher that the rest of the house which was three stories. To the left side of the house was an extension of the house that went beyond view from where they sat and it as well had a steeply arched ceiling and it was two stories high. “I recognize this house,” she said, a look of thoughtfulness on her face for a couple seconds, until her eyes widened a little in recognition. “This is Sophia Marek’s house. You live with her?”

Warren sighed bashfully. “She’s my aunt.”

“The billionaire medical research C-E-O is your aunt?” asked Jessica.

“And medical professor, but please don’t make a big deal out of it,” he pleaded. “Being a member of a filthy rich family is not something I treasure."

“Don’t worry,” said Patricia. They pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the gate. She rolled down her window and pressed the callbox button. Warren reached over so that the camera above it could get a better look of his face. A minute later the gates slid open and Patricia pulled forward.

They came to a stop in front of the house and this time when Patricia came around to help him into his wheelchair, he didn’t feel so annoyed about it. Once he was back in it, he wheeled himself around.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said.

“No problem,” said Patricia, grinning. “So, I’ll come pick you up around five-thirty?”

“Sure.” Warren sat there until and watched Patricia's car leave. Then wheeled himself into his house.