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Somehow, between the uproar of the Fairy Godmothers posts, the soccer game, and getting the truth handed to me by Ali on Saturday night, I ended up with a stomach bug. I literally stressed myself sick.
I. Felt. Awful.
My stomach was in knots most of the day Sunday and Monday. I hadn’t kept anything down except some baby electrolyte drink Dad brought home. He was at a loss for what to get that I wouldn’t automatically vomit right back up. It was his last option, but thankfully, it did the trick.
The bug passed, but it left me weak and exhausted from it on Tuesday. I spent the entire day in bed, barely having enough strength to lift my phone in front of my face.
Ali called. Malia came over Monday after school.
She told me everything about her talk with Charlie. Literally, almost verbatim. The memory on her was like nothing else. It was the reason she was so smart too. The girl got straight A’s, but she never let a single person know that side of her except for me or Ali. She said it would ruin her image.
By Wednesday morning, I was bound and determined to get back to school. Not for the reasons I should have been—like seeing Charlie or clearing up the rumors—but because seeing only the toilet and the four walls of my bedroom for the past three days had taken its toll mentally.
I should have wanted to see Charlie. Ididwant to see him.
I read all his messages. Listened to the voicemails he left. The utter desperation in his voice, the way he choked back his emotion, broke me.
But I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t. Nothing I could say in a text would be right. We needed to talk face to face, and while I was still hovering around the bathroom, that wasn’t going to happen.
Malia specifically told me that she didn’t tell Charlie about me being sick. On purpose. Part of me wished she had, so he would know I wasn’t actively avoiding him for no reason.
But the other part was glad she didn’t. Because I knew him well enough by now to know that he would have left school immediately and come here with crackers, ginger ale, a stack of magazines, and probably a flower or two. Maybe a full dozen.
There was no way I was going to let him see me in such a state.
Staying home gave me alotof time to think, though. About Charlie. About Dad. About the whole situation.
Ali and Malia kept me updated on what the students were saying. The Teller kids were going to bat for me, but unfortunately in the wrong way. They didn’t want a Fairview guy with me. They wanted to keep me in house, with a Teller kid. Which was the wrong answer. They respected me, but they weren’t seeing the big picture.
The whole point was to love who you wanted to love. No matter who they were, no matter what side they were on, no matter what other people said.
The heart wanted who it wanted.
And there was only one person to thank for teaching me that.
The person I couldn’t see. The one I had to ignore for the next few days. Just a little bit longer while we put my plan into place.
It tore my heart to pieces to walk around school knowing that he was there, just a hallway or two away.
I caught the smallest of glimpses of him Wednesday during lunch, before I ducked out of the cafeteria and sprinted in the other direction.
It seemed dumb to be purposefully avoiding him. But, I had to. Or at least, I convinced myself that I had to. In my head, I told myself that in order to fix what I screwed up, I needed a plan. When I came up with one, I knew it would lose a lot of its punch if Charlie and I managed to talk beforehand.
By Wednesday night, he stopped sending messages.
I kept busy by making sure everything was set and ready. There were a lot of small details to consider, and I needed my crew on top of things. I even brought in Malia and Ali to help.
By Friday, I was a mess. I felt almost worse than I had while I was vomiting for two days. This emotional and mental break was no joke. I almost caved three times, telling Mali I wanted to give up and just drive to Charlie’s house and talk to him. She convinced me that he would love my plan and it would be worth it, but the self-restraint was beginning to waver.
Flow and Jett worked overtime with me on Friday night, prepping everything that needed to happen for Saturday.
Malia and Ali showed up with the goods early Saturday morning, after Dad left for the field. The second round of playoffs were today, to determine which team went to the State champs. He got to the field almost before the sun rose.
They dropped off what I needed and left, but I would see them again soon.
Everything was in place and ready to go. My nerves were so shot, I couldn’t stop my leg from shaking as I drove, almost making me crash.
By the time I arrived at the stadium, I was trembling all over.
