“Whoa.” I pressed my palm to my forehead as the room did a tilt-a-whirl. My skin felt hot. Was I sweating?
I started toward my bedroom to change, but only made it halfway before I veered off to the bathroom.
“Oh God,” I gasped out.
Cramps seized my stomach and I dropped to my knees, lifting the lid on the toilet. The ice cream cake and everything else I ate that day came up, quick and fast. It was impressive and it didn’t stop for hours. As soon as it seemed like it had eased out, I leaned back against the tub, resting my cheek on the cool surface. That felt good, but the calm feeling didn’t last long. My tummy clenched and I’d barely reached the toilet in time.
It was official.
God had done the whole ‘I smite thee’ by striking me down was a nasty case of the influenza virus. How had I caught it? Did that matter? Hell no. Nothing mattered as I lay on the cool tile floor, my cheek smashed and mostly likely now carrying the pattern of the floor. There was no concept of how much time had passed. I knew I needed medicine, something from the store. Yes, the store would be a good idea. Chicken soup. TheraFlu. Pepto…
Stumbling to my feet, I shuffled back into the living room. The walls seemed funny to me, fuzzy and a little warped, like they were waving to me. After a minor adventure, I found my purse and keys and made it to the front door. Just as I unlocked it, I felt the ominous stirring in my stomach.
I dropped my purse and keys and spun. The walls danced. Not good. I made it a couple of steps and my legs did the strangest thing. They just stopped working. Done. Nothing. I cracked them off the floor, but really didn’t feel it. Crawling toward the kitchen, because I had enough sense left to not want to do this on the carpet, I made it to the sink. I hauled myself up and leaning over the sink, my stomach heaved until tears leaked down my cheeks.
Oh man, this sucked.
Finally, when the storm seemed to have passed, I slid down, leaning back against the cabinets under the sink. Okay. The store was out of the question. So was bed. I’m not sure if I stretched out or sort of fell over, but I was back against the cool floor again. At least the kitchen floor had more space.
A deep ache settled into my muscles and bones. My head throbbed so badly it hurt to open my eyes or to concentrate on anything other than the fact it hurt. It felt like someone had shoved a wool brush down my throat. My brain felt like it was trying to run through muddy waters. Nothing really made sense to me. I heard the phone chirping from somewhere and then sometime later, it rang and rang… and it rang. I wondered if it was my parents. Maybe they remembered that yesterday was my birthday.
I think I might’ve fallen asleep, because there was a banging that sounded far, far away. And I thought I heard my living room door open. I was to the point that I didn’t care if it was a mass murderer. I’d welcome anyone willing to put me out of my misery.
“Avery?” There was a pause and then a, “Oh, my God.”
The murderer knew my name and was the praying type? Lovely.
Cool hands touched my forehead. “Avery, oh my God, are you okay?”
The murderer sort of sounded like Brit, so it was obviously not a murderer. I forced my eyes open into thin slits. Her face blurred together for a second. Worry etched into her features and then her face warbled.
“Flu,” I mumbled. “I have the flu…”
“So that’s why it smells like there was a vomit party in here.”
I winced. “Ugh.”
“Yes, ugh, all of this is ugh.”
I heard something drop on the floor and then the cool hands were gone. My fridge door opened and wonderful, beautiful, cold air washed over the floor and me. I was in heaven, freaking heaven.
The door shut and Brit returned, water in hand. “You need to drink water. Come on, help me help you sit up.”
Mumbling under my breath, I got my hands on the floor but my arms felt too weak. She got an arm around me and had me leaning against the cabinet. A water bottle appeared by my dry lips.
“No.” I tried to knock her away, but I couldn’t lift my arms. “You… get… flu…”
“I got the flu shot, so no. Drink this water, Avery. Drink it.” She put it to my mouth again, and the water eked in, scorching my throat. “It probably hurts, huh? If you drink this water, I’ll go to the store and get you some stuff, okay? I think you have a fever.” Her hand pressed against my forehead. “Yep, you have a fever.”
I think I drank the water and then I think I face planted the floor afterward. Everything blurred. Brit was talking to me and I think I responded. No idea what was coming out of my mouth. She left me on the floor at some point and then I heard her again, out in the living room, speaking in a low voice. The pain in my head was too much to open my eyes.
Arms slipped under me and for a second I was floating. Then I shifted, resting against something warm and hard. I moaned, turning my head toward it. There was a familiar, soothing scent that tugged at me, lulled me under until I was lying on something much more comfortable and there was something cool and damp pressed to my forehead.
I slept on and off, waking every so often to realize I wasn’t alone. Someone sat beside me on the bed, holding a cloth to my cheeks. I murmured something before falling back asleep. I’m not sure how long this lasted, but finally my eyes opened, and it was like coming out of a coma. The light filtering through the window was too harsh and the throbbing was still in my head but duller than before.
I opened my mouth, but immediately started hacking.
Footsteps pounded from the hall and suddenly Brit was in my bedroom doorway, a glass of water in one hand and a mug in the other. “You’re alive! Thank God, I was beginning to think I accidentally killed you by forcing meds down your throat.”
I looked at her dumbly. “I took medicine?”
“Yep.” She bounced over to me and sat on the bed. “You’ve taken medicine twice and you’re about to take it again. You need to drink all of this water. And then you need to drink this—more medicine. My mom, who’s a nurse by the way, said that since it seems like your fever broke last night, you should be fine. Well, you should be better.”
“Last night?” Covering my mouth with my hand, I started hacking again as I took the water from her. We had to wait for that to pass. “What… time is it?”
Brit sat on the edge of the bed, holding the steaming mug. I could already smell the lemon. “Time? Honey, day would probably be the better question. It’s Saturday.”
I almost choked on my water. “I’ve been… out of it for… a full day?”
“A full day and a half,” she said, sympathetic. “When I texted and called you and you didn’t answer, I got worried. That’s why I came over. You were pretty bad. Mom said it was probably from dehydration. ”
Mulling that over while I finished off the water, I placed the glass on the nightstand and took the mug from her. Another coughing fit hit me and only by some miracle did I not spill it on myself. “Did you… stay here the whole time?”
“Not the entire time. I had help.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Really, thank you. I’d still laying on… the floor if it weren’t… for you and Jacob.”
She shook her head.
Suddenly, something very important occurred to me. I glanced down at myself. I was wearing a long sleeve sleep shirt. My bra was still on and I was in pajama bottoms—oh my God—my bracelet was off. My head jerked up way to fast, causing the ache to spread across my face. The bracelet sat on the nightstand. “Did you…?”
“Yes and no,” she said, messing with the short ponytail at the top of her head. “I helped you get into the bottoms.”
“Then who…?” A sinking feeling had me thinking I was going to have to run for the bathroom again. “Oh, my God…”
Brit winced. “Don’t hate me, Avery, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t get you off the floor. For someone who is so little, you weigh a ton and I have more muscles than Jacob. Cam was right across the hall and it seemed like the quickest solution.”
Oh my God, I couldn’t even wrap my sick brain around this little piece of news. If Brit hadn’t stripped me from my sweat soaked sweater, it had to have been Cam, which meant he was the one who placed the bracelet on the nightstand.
I closed my eyes.
“Are you feeling like you’re going to hurl again?”
“No,” I said hoarsely. “So… so Cam was here?”
“He carried you to the bed and stayed with you while I ran to the store,” she said, crossing her legs. “When I came back, he’d changed your shirt and he swore he didn’t peek at your goodies. Though, I was staring at his goodies. He was shirtless the entire time. Even though I had every window in this house open to air out all your funk.”
All my funk. Cam was all up in my funk.
“He was like the perfect nurse. Had a damp cloth to your face, keeping you cool.” Brit sighed a dreamy sound. “He even stayed with you while I cleaned up your mess.”
“Thank you,” I said again, finishing off the mug. “I mean it, thank you so much. I owe you.”
“You do.” She flashed a quick grin. “You also owe Cam.”
I collapsed back against the bed, closing my eyes. “I bet you had to beg him to come over.”
“No,” she replied, poking my leg until I looked at her. “I didn’t have to ask him twice. He dropped what he was doing and came right over to help you.”
Chapter 22
The sickness had lingered and turned into a disgusting, hacking cold that I treated obsessively with every over the counter medicine known to man. By the first day of spring semester, I was still coughing, but I felt well enough to go to class.
On the way downstairs, I grew some lady balls and went over to Cam’s apartment. I needed to thank him, face to face and not over text. With my heart pounding like I’d run up and down the stairs, I knocked on his door.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the door seconds before it flung open, revealing Ollie in all his messy glory. A sleepy smile crossed his lips. “Hey there, glad to see you up and walking around.”
“Thanks.” I felt my cheeks warm. “Is Cam up?”
“Yeah, let me check. Hold on a sec.” He left the door open a crack as he disappeared back in the apartment. A few moments—moments that felt like forever—he returned, a little less rumpled. “Actually, he, um left already for class.”
“Oh.” I smiled to hide my disappointment. “Well, I’ll… see you around.”
“Yeah.” Ollie nodded as he ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. “Hey, Avery, I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I am. Thanks.”
Giving him a little wave, I readjusted the strap of my new bag and then pulled out my gloves as I headed down the stairs and out into the bright, freezing morning. I stopped a few spaces behind my car, my heart tumbling.
There it was—Cam’s truck.