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“Your book bag’s in the back of the Jeep,” North said to Kota. “You want to take it and leave your car?”
Kota checked for his keys. “Sure, I’ll take the Jeep. Just use my car if one of them needs the hospital.”
“They won’t need a hospital,” North said. He moved Kota’s chair out of the way, choosing instead to sit on the window seat. He leaned his back to the side wall and rolled his head back. “I’ll watch them.”
Kota came to the bed, and he brushed a few strands of hair away from my forehead. He kissed my brow. “Get better,” he said. “Seems like everything’s about to change.”
I opened my mouth, trying to formulate a question to ask what he meant, when Luke came out of the bathroom. He dragged his feet across the floor, making a shuffling noise. He nudged Kota out of the way, and flopped down on the bed next to me, making me bounce on the mattress.
I groaned.
“Sang,” he said, his voice sounding small and gravelly. He reached for me, touching the material of Kota’s shirt on my body.
I wanted to hug him but I was hot and his skin was super warm. Had he sat through classes trying to fight it off? I stretched my arms out, pouting in sympathy and touched his arm and chest with my hands, trying to be comforting while keeping our bodies apart so we weren’t boiling.
He seemed to understand this and pouted too. “I don’t like sick,” he said in a sad tone. “Make it stop.”
Kota sighed and looked over at North. “Should they be together like this?”
North shrugged. “They probably have the same thing. I don’t know.”
“Hm,” Kota said, looking at us.
“Don’t make me move,” Luke said. He had his eyes closed. “Kota...it’s too hot. Turn on a fan? Or blow air on me? Use your hands, though, not your mouth.”
“Don’t be gross,” North said. He sighed and shook his head, then looked at Kota. “I’ll look after them. You go on. See what you can do.”
“I’ll be back later I guess.” Kota walked down the steps and moments later, I heard his car rumbling and rolling away.
It was quiet for a long moment and I tried to sleep.
Luke slept. Eventually, I dozed off, too, but not for long and then I spent a lot of time staring and feeling miserable—hot and cold, sensitive, achy.
When I lifted my head to check on North, he was staring out the big window, distracted. He had on his black T-shirt and gray pants, along with his black boots. He looked tired as he glared out the window, possibly keeping watch.
“North?” I called softly. Then I coughed, my throat tight and raw, worse than before.
North turned his head, an eyebrow raising. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Do you need something?”
I wanted something to help my throat. It was scratchy and hurt. “Marshmallows?” I asked.
He frowned, rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. “You don’t need junk right now.”
“My throat hurts,” I said.
Luke rolled over onto his stomach and stole most of the pillow. “My throat hurts, too. And my stomach.”
“Can I have some marshmallows?” I asked. “Please?” When I was younger and I got a sore throat, I used to eat a couple of marshmallows. I think initially it was because they were soft and could slide down my throat, but they helped to soothe my sore throat as well, as good as cough drops.
North grunted but got up, disappearing down the stairs.
He was gone for a long while and I wondered if there weren’t any marshmallows in the house.
Luke fell asleep again. I was quiet, wondering why I couldn’t sleep and wishing I could, because I thought if I could just get to sleep, maybe I wouldn’t care about being too hot or cold. Feeling miserable like this was the worst. I would rather have been at school, even sitting in new classes.
North returned, but instead of marshmallows, he had two mugs. Steam drifted from the tops.
He nudged Luke, who flipped over and looked at the mugs. “Hot chocolate?” he asked, his eyes hopeful. “With marshmallows?”
“Green tea,” North said. “And because I know you won’t drink it without anything sweet, I added a little honey.” He sat on the edge of the bed, putting the tray in his lap to stabilize it. “Sit up and drink some.”
The smell was drifting to me, but it was bitter and nothing I was used to. I wrinkled my nose.
“Ugh,” Luke said.
“It’s good for you,” North said.
Luke sat up, and took the mug. He brought it toward his face, but held it toward his nose, breathing in the vapors.
I sat up, too, taking the second mug. There was a light green liquid inside, with a smidgen of honey drizzle along the inside lip where it hadn’t been stirred all the way. I swirled the tea, trying to stir in all of that honey, hoping it would prove to help the taste. It still smelled bitter.
The mug got too hot in my hands, so I balanced it on the blanket so as not to burn my fingers. I did like Luke, bringing it to my face and breathing in slowly.
Luke took sips of his and his lips twisted as he winced. “I think I’d rather have hot chocolate.”
“You can have this or water. Chocolate’s not going to help your throat.” North got up, put the tray on Kota’s computer desk, and then went for the bathroom. “He might have some throat stuff in here. Did he give you anything, Sang?”
“Fever reducer and something for...not throwing up,” I said, although weakly.
“Huh,” he said. He kept the door open while he perused the medicine cabinet.
Luke leaned into me and whispered. “If you don’t like it, I’ll ask him to get us another blanket from downstairs and I’ll dump out the tea.”
I felt bad for wasting what North had prepared for us, but I really didn’t want to drink something so hot, and I wasn’t in the mood to experiment.
North brought Luke some medicine and Luke took it and then did ask for an
other blanket. When North disappeared downstairs, Luke jumped up and dumped out most of his and half of mine down the bathroom sink.
He brought our mugs back quietly and whispered. “Pretend to sip it occasionally. He’ll never believe we drank it all.”
I smiled weakly, unable to admit that I was grateful. I never would have thought of that.
I went ahead and placed mine on the side table. Luke arranged himself so he was lying down again and I relaxed, too, listening to him breathe.
SUGAR CURE
I nodded off, and didn’t wake up until later in the afternoon. My eyes fluttered open, noticing the shadows in the room had shifted. In that moment, I felt fine. Maybe the medicine had worked. Maybe it was just a bug.
I heard footsteps downstairs, but when I turned my head toward the window, I saw North in the window seat, his head bowed, his eyes closed.
“North,” I rasped, my throat thick. I whispered again for him.
He sat upright quickly, blinked and looked around, finding me looking at him. “What?”
“Someone’s downstairs,” I said.
He moved to put his feet on the floor when Kota’s door opened. “Shit,” he said. “Not him, too.”
Luke rolled over, his shoulder in the way of my view now. I had to lean on him to sit up.
“Ugh,” Luke said, but didn’t move.
Gabriel was in the doorway. His hair was all over the place and he was missing his shirt already. He stumbled toward the bed, wide-eyed and pouting. “I feel like shit.”
North went to the top of the stairs. “Kota,” he called down. “Don’t trip picking up after him. He shouldn’t have done that.”
“He’s sick,” Kota said, appearing at the top with a collection of clothes and Gabriel’s shoes in his arms.
“Sick, not stupid,” North said, shaking his head.
Gabriel removed his pants right there, but he was wearing boxer shorts. “Luke, move over, won’t you?”
Luke rolled closer to me, pushing me against the wall. “There,” he said.
“No, I want to be beside Sang.”
“I’m sick,” Luke cried. “I can’t move.”
