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“God, Millie, you sound like you’re dying,” Liesel complains, eyeing all the medicine on my bedside table while bringing me a glass of water. “There’s this weird strain of the flu going around. I read somewhere that people are worried it’ll be a pandemic or something.”
My insides hurt, a cold shiver spreading throughout my body. I ask her to bring me another blanket, but not long after, I break out into a cold sweat and remove everything, lying here in only my bra and panties.
“It’s just a cold. I’ll get over it.”
My phone begins to buzz beside me, raising it to my eyes. I see Will’s name and answer it, a cough escaping me.
“You sound awful,” Will says, concerned. “I can’t even see you. I’m in Houston again and won’t be back for another week. After this, I fly to Seattle.”
“I’ll be okay, one more night’s rest,” I croak, then blow my nose into a tissue. “Besides, how exactly will you make me feel better? In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m physically out of order.”
Will laughs through the receiver. “My poor baby, but you do have a point. Okay, listen, I need to step into the boardroom now, but I love you. Please get better.”
“Love you too.”
The one night’s rest I had so desperately needed turning into pure hell. I tossed and turned, coughing relentlessly. My sinuses were clogged up, followed by a fever spiking. There was no relief the next day, forcing me to stay in bed and miss classes.
Ava calls to tell me Will texted her, worried. She told Mom about me being sick. Everyone is worried, but what little does that matter when I sit here all alone. Not long after Ava told Mom, she calls me.
“Do you need me to fly over? You sound awful?”
“Mom, I have the flu. I can handle taking care of myself. I’m not a kid anymore,” I say rudely, willing my head to stop spinning.
“I never said you were a kid. You’re sick, and there’s a strain of the flu going around sending people to the hospital. I’m worried about you.”
“And I’m telling you that I’m a big girl. I’ll get better.”
Annoyed that she treats me like a child, I make some excuse for needing to go. If truth be told, we rarely speak these days. Between Will, schoolwork, and now this stupid flu, I try to avoid her because it eases my conscience.
But like anything in life, avoidance will only get you so far.
That afternoon, Liesel took me to the ER when my fever spiked. They placed me on an IV overnight, sending me home the next day with more antibiotics. I chose to keep my visit to the hospital hidden from my family and Will, not wanting anyone to fuss over me like some kid.
It took me a few days to feel a bit better, but the exhaustion still weighed heavily on my shoulders. I’d lost weight, only now beginning to feel a little energy as my appetite picks up. It’s probably for the best that Will is still away, given that I have zero interest in sex.
“You look much better.” Liesel smiles, sitting beside me on the sofa. “Enough so that you can visit your man tonight when he returns and have all the sex I wish I were having.”
I chuckle softly, followed by a small cough. “As much as I’d love to do that, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes with my academic advisor. I suspect he wants to discuss the extra credits I’m working toward and maybe advancing some of my courses.”
“Good luck,” she calls, hopping off the couch. “If you’re not here for dinner, I’ll assume your vagina has other ideas.”
“Miss Edwards,” Professor Daniels greets as I close the door behind me. “We need to discuss your class load.”
I take a seat, placing my bag beside me. “Is it about my extra credits? As you know, I’m hoping to graduate early.”
Professor Daniels removes his glasses, cleaning them before putting them back on again. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. You’re falling behind with the workload.”
My shoulders tense as I shake my head in confusion. “I don’t understand. I’ve been sick this past week, but I’ve caught up on everything.”
“Well, frankly, your grades were excellent at the beginning of the first semester, and then they began to fall. Understandably, there’s an adjustment period. What I’m suggesting is that you drop some classes.”
“I can’t do that,” I state, raising my voice unwillingly. “My mom took the same class load.”
“I don’t believe we can measure against what someone else does, Miss Edwards.”
“I’ll do anything,” I plea, trying to hold back my emotions. “Just tell me what I need to do?”
Professor Daniels suggests I drop a class so I catch up, but I continue to shake my head, refusing to do so. I didn’t dream of coming to Yale only to fail. What would my parents think? So, I’ve been distracted by Will. If I focus again, I’m certain everything will improve. All I need to do is spend more time in the library and less time in Will’s bed.
