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“You need to go back to bed,” she tells me.
“No.”
“Then you should lie down on the couch.”
“Brooklyn—”
“Don’t argue with me. You don’t see you.”
I groan. I know she’s right. “We have things to do today,” I say.
“Oh, no, we don’t. I have some things to do. The only thing you’re doing is resting on this couch.”
“Brooklyn—”
Brooklyn settles me onto my couch and pulls a blanket over me. “Carter, I mean it. You have a fever.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Yeah? Well, I happen to know the password for your phone. Don’t make me call her.”
I laugh through fits of coughing. I’m sure Brooklyn would do it. “You took away my coffee.”
“Yes, I did. You don’t need to stay awake.”
“But—”
“No way,” Brooklyn says. “How about some mint tea?”
“Mint tea?”
Brooklyn raises her eyebrows.
“Is that a thing?” I ask.
Finally, she laughs. “It’s a thing. I have a couple of tea bags in my bag.”
Her bag’s so large, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a teapot and the stove to heat it in there. “How about an Old Fashioned instead?”
“How about some cough and cold medicine?” she counters.
“You know, they used whiskey for years to treat coughs.”
“Uh-huh. And they also put sick people in sanatoriums.”
“That’s cheery. I don’t have consumption.”
“Are you going to cooperate or not?” she asks.
“No wonder my mom liked you so much. You’re bossy too.”
“Cute.” Brooklyn starts to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“To make you some tea and find you some medicine.”
“Brooklyn, you don’t have to—" She’s already on her mission. This day is not turning out at all the way I planned.
