CHAPTER FIVE
I think that Archer has been up in his room for the last 15 hours. I have no idea why he was up there for so long, but I wasn't going to annoy him any time soon. When he woke up this morning he still had a hangover and was feeling sick. I heard the bathroom doors in the hallway up stairs open and close about ten or so time. He must really feel like shit.
In the kitchen pantry there was hardly anything that could be used for a hangover. I had no idea what to give him. Being 16, I have never had a drop in my life, a drop of alcohol that is. So I had absolutely no idea what to give him to make him feel better.
I thought about giving him some soup or something, but that is for colds and flu's. I remember that when I was sick back at home, my grandmother would come over and make this delicious dish. It was cabbage and potato heated to the boil, with a beautiful oil sauce to suit. It was often served with a few pieces of toast and it always made me feel better when I had a sore tummy or anything.
Pulling out some ingredients, I put the pot of sauce that I made to the boil. Shredding the cabbage finely and cutting up the potato in miniscule pieces, I put them in the pot of boiled soup and waited for it to cook.
When it was finished, I placed a few large spoonfuls of it into a bowl, and while waiting for it to cool down a bit, I popped in some toast and waited for it to pop. Right on cue, approximately 3 minutes later, I was walking up the stairs into our room. Gagging noises could be heard from inside and I had second thoughts about going in.
"Archer, are you in there?" I called out, the tray of food leaning carefully on my hip with my left hand holding it there, while my right hand reached for the door handle.
I heard some groaning noises from inside and carefully and slowly I pushed open the door. Looking down the whole time, I walked up to Archer's bed and placed the tray on the empty table top next to it. The lamp was on the floor for some reason, and the pillows were all piled on top of each other.
Peeling away the top pillow, I saw a thin array of black hair poking out. Pulling some of the other pillow away as well, I began to see a dead white face, or should I say the dead white face of Archer.
He looked horrible. Placing a hand on his forehead, I could feel my hand heating up extremely fast. He was burning up faster than it took me heat the soup.
"Arch, I made you some soup. Do you want some?" I asked softly, Archer's eyes opened as I spoke, and I could tell he was very tired.
"I don't feel well" was all he said, swiping his hand across his forehead to rid it from sweat. Nodding, I got up and went into the bathroom, wetting a towel, and came back in to place it on his head. As I placed it there, Archer moved his hands to it as if he were cooling them off.
"Is that better?" I gave him a light smile. Archer shook his head and complained about it being 50 degrees in here.
"How about I run you a cold bath? Hmm...Would you like that?" I asked, taking one of his hands in mine and squeezing it lightly. He wasn't looking at me when he whispered a nearly inaudible yes. Getting up, I went to bathroom and started the bath.
"Okay...I ran you the bath and I am going to give you a few minutes to get in and stuff, then I'm coming in, alright?" I was shutting the door as I spoke to him, Archer leaned up against the counter as I did so.
I gave him five minutes before I opened up the door and sat down next to the bath. Archer was lying within the bubbles and the water, his eyes firmly shut. His shoulders were hunched forward, as if to stop him from slipping down, and his knees were bent.
"Are you feeling better?" I asked, breaking the silence. Archer didn't say anything, so I turned and looked at his face. His closed eyes were still dark around the edges, and his lips were full and beautiful. The colour that had so quickly drained from his face was coming back and his hair was messy again.
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