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“Will you be okay here alone?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. What can I bring you tonight?”
I thought of chicken noodle soup and almost lost the other half of my lunch. “Honestly, right now I just want to sleep and maybe take a shower.”
“Okay, I’ll check in on you later.” She waited with me until Chad arrived, then helped me into the car. I could see the guilt in her eyes, but she really didn’t need to feel that way.
Chad must have noticed as well. “I’ll get her back safely. Go have fun.”
“You can come back and join me if you want,” she offered. He actually looked like he might consider it.
Cute. But I couldn’t think of budding romances right now. I just wanted a toilet and a bed.
Chad let me lean against him and helped me up to my room when we reached the hotel. He left me in my room, and I stripped out of my denim and cowgirl boots and hopped in the shower. I dried off and pulled on my hot-pink joggers and a T-shirt before tugging a trashcan close to the bed and climbing under the blanket.
I was never eating another cheeseburger again.
***
I seemed to lose all sense of time with the drapes drawn, running between the toilet and the bed more times than I could count. I didn’t know where my phone had gone, but I’d unplugged the clock the day before so I could use that outlet. At some point the next day, when the sun was peeking around the drapes again, a knock sounded on my door. I opened it to find Adalyn standing there with a Chick-fil-A takeout bag and a big fountain drink.
“Soup and Sprite,” she said, lifting them. “I always had Sprite when I was sick as a kid, so I took a chance on it.”
My mom always made me soup from a can and got me the white Gatorade. I craved white Gatorade.
She grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
Shoot. Had I said that out loud? My mouth was so dry. “No, Sprite is fine. I just meant I always had Gatorade as a kid.”
“I can run and get some—”
“No.” I took the bag and the soda and tried to smile. Everything hurt. Why was I so tired? “Did you want to come in?”
“No, I’ll leave you. Are you feeling any better at all?”
Was I? Not really. But I wasn’t puking anymore. “I’m starving, so thanks.”
She left, and I put the food down. I sipped tentatively at the Sprite and pulled a packet of crackers from the takeout bag, then crawled back in bed and closed my eyes, waiting for the room to quit spinning.
***
It was dark behind the curtain, no more wisps of light peeking through, when someone knocked on my door again. Comeon, Adalyn. I really liked her, but I needed sleep. I was pretty certain I wouldn’t throw up again. I’d managed to keep down a third of the Sprite, so the improvement was good. I was still so weak, so tired, so ill.
The knock came again, so I dragged myself out of bed. I flipped on one lamp and opened the door to find Rhett highlighted by the hallway lights, concern on his brow. He had a brown paper bag in one hand, and he held the door open with the other.
“No,” I said and tried to close the door.
A small smile curled his lips. “I guess this means you’re not feeling better. Can I please come in?”
“No. Look at me. I’m a mess.” I put up a hand. “Actually,don’tlook at me. You need to turn around and pretend you never saw this.”
He chuckled. “I’ve seen it now, and I don’t know why you’re being so dramatic. You look...sick, but beautiful. Can I please come in? I won’t do it without your permission.”
Relentless.
“I have white Gatorade,” he said.
Adalyn the traitor. “Fine. You can come in if you must.” I turned back into the room and climbed into my bed, tugging the plush duvet up to my chin.
