Chapter 36: Chapter 36

I curl up in a ball on the bed and screw my eyelids closed. Every time a shiver racks my body, I drag the comforter up around my neck to ward off the chills. A few minutes later, it’ll feel like I’m burning up and I’ll toss off the blanket. This scenario has been playing on repeat for hours.

When Holland hovers near the threshold of the room, my eyelids flutter open to meet her concerned stare.

“Are you sure there isn’t something I can get for you? A drink? Maybe some crackers? How about a bowl of soup?”

The thought of food makes me nauseous.

But I keep that to myself.

I don’t want Holland to realize just how miserable I feel.

Instead, I shake my head and close my eyes, only wanting to sleep off whatever virus I’ve picked up. “No,” I mumble. “I’m not hungry.”

“You need to at least drink and stay hydrated.”

I point to the bottle of water on my nightstand. “I’m trying.”

A heavy silence settles over us.

It’s almost a surprise when she mutters, “As much as I hate to even speak her name, maybe we should call Becks.”

I force my eyelids open again and shoot her a scowl. “Don’t you dare. It’s just a little bug. A day or so of rest and I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“I don’t know…” She creeps closer before staring down at me. “You’re really pale.”

“We both know that I’ve always been pale. Don’t you remember the way Jonnie Decker teased me in fourth grade? He tried to convince everyone that I was an albino.”

“That kid was such a little fucker.”

“Truth.” There’s a beat of silence. “And he never said another peep to me after you broke his nose.”

For the first time since Holland stepped into my room, a smile lifts the corners of her lips. “That’s one of my favorite memories from elementary school.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get suspended.”

She shrugs. “I could have used a little R and R. That unit on the Revolutionary War was a killer.” When the humor fades from her expression, I realize that my distraction technique hasn’t worked. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m worried.”

This conversation has become exhausting. I just want to sleep. “Don’t be,” I mumble around a yawn. “Everybody gets sick.”

“Yeah…” Her voice wavers before trailing off. “But not everybody has a weakened immune system.”

I huff out a sigh. “Always have to throw that in my face, don’t you?”

My bestie settles tentatively on the edge of the bed. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

“I know.”

“I think we need to⁠—”

Her voice dies a quick death when the doorbell chimes throughout the townhouse.

My eyes lock on hers before narrowing. “If that’s my mom, you’re in deep trouble.”

With a frown, Holland rises to her feet. “I didn’t call her. But I wouldn’t put it past Becks to have a sixth sense where you’re concerned.”

That sad piece of truth is enough to have a weak chuckle escaping from me. “You’re one hundred percent right about that. Sometimes it’s scary.”

“What are you talking about? It’s always scary.” When the doorbell peals for a second time, she says, “I’ll be right back.”

It’s only when she slips from the room that my eyelids drift shut again.