I woke up coughing on Saturday morning. I knew it wasn’t going to be a good day the second I was propelled awake by the urge to clear my throat, or the fact that by doing so, my head began throbbing. The dull ache gradually pressed against my temple and, with a groan, I lifted my hands to begin massaging either side of my head.
Very slowly, I leaned back down to lay my head on my pillow, but felt the cool wetness there and frowned. I sat up again and realized that not only was my pillow soaking wet, but so was my hair, still damp from walking home in the rain last night. I immediately realized that my entire body ached as a consequence of walking home in the middle of a torrential downpour.
My phone lit up beside my bed and I moved to grab it very slowly, groaning in discomfort from any movement my body deemed too sudden. I examined the screen and saw 2 new messages from Stephanie, 3 missed calls and 1 message from Nathan, and 6 messages from Asher. I continued to massage my temple on one side as I opened my inbox.
Asher: Laaaaauuuurreeeeeennnnnnnn where did you go????
Asher: Didya run away????
Asher: Natey boo and I are worried sick young mistress!
Asher: I’m not calling you a mistress
Asher: Unless you are a mistress
Asher: Mrrrpphgmmsdf
I roll my eyes at Asher’s messages, but despite the ridiculousness of them, a small smile grew on my lips. But the moment I exited out of my messages with Asher and saw Nathan’s name on the screen, the smile slipped off as quickly as it came on. The image of Nathan sucking face with the random Barbie from last night flashed in the forefront of my mind.
Judging by the lingering discomfort that settled in my stomach when I thought about it, I could tell that I was still jealous. I stared at his name on my phone for another moment, reluctant to see whatever he had texted me, or to talk to him at all. I knew it wasn’t justified- after all, it’s not like we were dating- but I was still bothered by it.
Nathan: Tell me the next time you get another ride so I don’t wait around for you.
The time stamp above the message was 2:14 AM, which was only about twenty minutes after I had left, and twenty minutes after he had been all over that girl. So what did he mean, waiting around for me? Annoyance crept in as I glared at the message and I thought about texting him back that I walked home in the freaking rain and got sick from it, but thought better of it.
But still, I was more than a little annoyed at his words. Asher said he and Nathan were worried about me, but he also called me a mistress, so I guess I couldn’t trust his exact words too much. I took a deep breath and looked back down at my phone and exited out of our messages, my finger hovering above Stephanie’s message.
Before I could check Steph’s text, my bedroom door creaked open, and I looked up to see my mom peaking her head through the door, her forehead creased in worry. “Honey, are you okay? I could hear you coughing from downstairs.”
I set my phone on my lap carefully and frowned at her. “I think I’m sick.”
Her mom senses went off at my words, and she pushed the door open all the way to come inside and inspect my wellbeing. She sat on the edge of my bed and leaned forward to press the back of her cool palm against my forehead. Her brows knitted together in worry and she puckered her lips slightly in her classic concerned expression as she looked at me.
“You’re burning up. Lay down and I’m going to go get the thermometer, okay?” My mom stands back up and then glances at me, her frown deepening. “Did you get a shower this morning?”
“No,” I say with a confused frown. “Why?”
Her gaze flickers from my head to my pillow and I suddenly remember the state of my hair. “Your hair is soaking wet. I’m going to grab you another pillow.”
She was well off into mom mode, so I simply complied, and she hurried out the door. Moments later, she returned with two pillows and a thermometer. My mom carefully positioned the pillows behind my head before guiding me back down into a lying position.
“Here,” Mom sticks the thermometer in my mouth and then sighs. “What are your symptoms? Wait, don’t answer until it’s done taking your temperature.”
I hold back an eye roll as she laughs at herself a little, and when the thermometer beeps, I pluck it out of my mouth and hand it to her. “I have a headache, my stomach hurts, my muscles feel weak, I’m stuffy, and I have a cough.”
“Well, you have a 101 temperature,” My mom murmurs and looks down at me with worry filling her eyes. “Do you want me to make you some soup?”
I’m about to accept gratefully until I realize that she’s fully dressed and looks ready to do something. I shrug instead and ask, “Are you going out today?”
My mom looks at me with guilt clear on her features. “Dianne and I were going to go to a writers convention in New York but I don’t want to leave you here alone sick. I can cancel and go next year.”
“No mom, you should go,” I encourage her with a small smile. “Seriously, I’ll be fine alone. I’ll probably sleep all day anyway.”
Her eyes glimmer with genuine appreciation as she shoots me a wide grin. “I’ll make you some soup before I go. Deal?”
My smile widens. “Thank you, mom.”
“Anything for you, honey,” My mom murmurs as she smoothes out her black shirt and heads toward the door.
I take a deep breath and grab my phone again to check my messages with Stephanie before texting her back frantically. I was in desperate need of spilling my guts about Brett to her. He wasn’t supposed to like me like that- we were supposed to just be friends. My head was spinning, and this time it wasn’t because of my cold.
How was I supposed to act in front of him, now? Like it never even happened? Would he even remember his confession to me? He seemed pretty drunk last night, but it seemed like the hurt of my rejection sobered him up. I groan into my hands as my phone begins ringing beside me to offer me relief from my thoughts.
I grab it and sigh in relief when Stephanie’s name flashes across the screen. I answer it and hear urgency lacing her voice as she asks, “Hey, what did you need to talk about? Are you okay?”
“Stephanie,” I whine into the phone and shut my eyes. “Last night, Brett kissed me and told me that he likes me.”
The line is silent for a second before I hear her slightly hopeful voice ask, “Is it a bad time to say I told you so?”
I open my eyes to narrow them and mutter, “Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll say it later,” Stephanie sighs disappointedly. “I’m sorry, Laur. What’d you do?”
I filled her in on the details of what happened at the party so she understood what happened with Brett. And then I proceeded to tell her everything about my night because of a whole different boy on my mind, from the moment I woke up to Nathan dressing me until my walk home in the middle of the rainstorm.
By the end of recounting the details of yesterday, Stephanie offered some words of encouragement, but I was still deflated. Luckily, it was my best friend that I was talking to, so she managed to put me in better spirits fairly quickly.
“Do you want to go get ice cream to calm your mind?” Stephanie asks hopefully.
I groan sadly, “I can’t have ice cream, I’m sick.”
“Shit, sorry,” Steph curses under her breath when she realizes that just upset me more. Ice cream was my weakness. “What if I bring over my movies?”
Fortunately, her movie collection is my other weakness.
I roll over in my back to lay on my stomach and press my cheek into the warm new pillow my mom brought in. “The classics?”
I can practically hear the satisfied smirk in her voice as Stephanie confirms, “Among the bunch will be It’s A Wonderful Life and Casablanca.”
And finally, a genuine smile crosses my lips. “Thanks, Steph. I feel better already.”
She tells me that she’ll be over in a half hour with her box of classic movies from her impressive collection and I end the call feeling a bit better than I did when I woke up. But along with the ache in my head from being sick, I began to formulate another headache as Nathan crossed my mind.
It bothered me that he regarded me as a burden rather than his friend in his text, especially because he had gotten it all wrong. I didn’t get a ride at all, but walked for an hour in the pouring rain through the outskirts of the city. I considered texting him to tell him that I didn’t ditch him there, but conceded I would just look pathetic.
In an attempt to take my mind off of Nathan, I took a long, steaming hot shower to properly wash my hair and calm my nerves. Afterward, I pulled on a long sleeve and the dark green sweatpants I stole from the very boy I was trying to forget about- not a smart move, I know, but the sweats were incredibly comfortable- and headed downstairs.
As I shuffled out of my room, I heard Luke’s bedroom door open and close from across the hall. I glanced up to see Cole stumbling out, rubbing his hands over his face, his hair sticking up from chronic bedhead. He glanced at me and frowned, and when he reached me, Cole unexpectedly put his hands over my cheeks before his frown deepened.
“You’re sick,” He withdrew his hands as his eyes scanned my face. “You look like shit.”
I smile sarcastically. “Thanks Coco, you really know how to make a girl feel beautiful.”
“Sorry Lauren,” Cole’s frown cracked into a smile at my smart comment but faded into a ghost of a frown when his eyes analyzed my face again. “Your skin is pale, eyes are swollen, and you look like you want to collapse on the floor.”
I correct him and murmur, “I actually want to collapse on a bed.”
Like a gentlemen, Cole puts his arm around my shoulders, and I quickly feel him support most of my weight. “Then lets get you back to your bed.”
Before he begins ushering me back to my bedroom, I tell him, “My goal was actually to get to the kitchen for some soup.” I look at him and smile. “I’m actually capable of walking on my own, Coco. Thank you though.”
Cole rolls his eyes. “I’m well aware of that. I’m also well aware of that one time when you tried to go to the bathroom when you were sick and you ended up passing out in the hallway.”
I remembered that, too. It was when I got the flu in middle school. I had stayed home from school that day and apparently passed out on my way to the bathroom, and Luke and Cole found me in the hallway and thought I was dead. It was actually kind of funny looking back on it, but nobody ever let me live it down.
So, despite the unnecessary help, Cole helped me down the staircase and into the kitchen. I shuffled alongside him even though he was carrying most of my weight and we made it to the kitchen island after six minutes. Eventually, I sit down at the counter and smile up at him.
“Thanks Coco,” I grin at him. “You’re the best.”
I cut off the beginning of his “You’re welcome” when I begin coughing uncontrollably. My mom purses her lips sadly at me as she continues stirring the soup, and Cole just frowns at me. By the time I was done, so was the soup, and my mom turned the stove on low heat as she fills a bowl full of chicken noodle soup to give to me.
Steam rises from the bowl in waves, floating into my face and making me sigh in content. Chicken noodle soup, like every other person in America, was my favorite go-to soup when I was feeling under the weather. And even though my mom didn’t make it homemade, it was still the perfect thing to make me feel a little bit better.
As I begin eating it, my mom checks the clock and curses under her breath. She looks at me and frowns. “Hon, are you sure you don’t want me to cancel my plans?”
“I’m fine mom,” I say in between slurping my soup. “Seriously, go before you’re late.”
She hesitates, “But remember the time you passed out on your way to the bathroom? I don’t want that to happen ag-”
“That was five years ago, mom,” I tell her as Cole begins chuckling quietly beside me. “And it was because I didn’t eat that day. Look, I’m eating now. I’ll be fine alone, okay?”
Mom sighs dramatically and turns her attention to Cole. “Will you watch after her for a little bit? I don’t want to leave her alone in case-” When she sees my stern look, she quickly finishes, “Needs something.”
I roll my eyes but Cole still accepts the challenge halfheartedly. “Sure, of course.”
“Okay, good,” My mom nods as if she’s finally made an internal decision. “I’ll be back around eight, okay sweetie? Get lots of rest and drink a lot of fluids.” As she’s walking out the front door, she calls, “I love you! Call me if you need absolutely anything.”
“I love you too!” I call and the second the front door shuts, I turn to Cole and assure him, “You don’t need to watch me. I can take care of myself.”
He chuckles. “I knew you’d say that once she left.”
I shrug and turn my attention back to my beloved soup. “She turns into momzilla when Luke or I get sick.”
“I know,” Cole agrees. “I’m surprised she actually left.” He rounds the island to turn the stove off before looking at me. “If you don’t need me, then I’m going to head home. I have a five page paper that I need to write if I want to go out tonight.”
After thoroughly assuring Cole that I would be fine without his supervision, he left to go home. I had two more bowls of soup before a knock came from the front door and I grinned, happy that Stephanie had finally arrived with the movies. But when I opened the front door, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and hair in a bun on top of my head, it wasn’t Stephanie behind the door.
Instead, standing there with a box of movies in his arms, was Nathan Rhodes.