In Sickness

Fever

"Didn't think you hated any kind of food," I said.

"I'm not so much of a glutton that I'd eat anything," he said morosely, as though the prospects of his coming sandwich was a funeral of a stranger he had to go to. "It's whatever grandpa makes whenever he doesn't feel like cooking, which is, like, all the time. And then it's the only thing I know how to make besides rice balls."

That made me feel a little guilty. I looked back down at my broth and sighed.

"There's probably enough for two in here," I said.

He shrugged. "Nah. It's fine."

Now that was weird. Tyson turning down food. "Are you okay?"

He waved a hand at me, squashing down the tall sandwich with his other hand. "Yeah."

I took a closer look at him as he turned, holding his sandwich up to his mouth with resignation. He leaned back against the counter, a leg crossed over the other, with dark wet hair plastered about his face.

I blinked. "Maybe you should have some. You're soaked. You should get out of those wet clothe before you get sick too."

Tyson swallowed and gave me a sidelong glance. "Shouldn't the same go to you?"

I glanced down at myself and flushed. My shirt was still damp enough to stick to some of the outlines of my bra. Thank whatever gods were out there that it wasn't white. But now that Tyson was pointing it out, I realized I was cold. Freezing, really. I put my cold fingers to my cheeks, as though to verify it. Had I been that caught up in Kai I hadn't noticed?

I flicked off the burner and dug out two mugs. Tyson chewed his sandwich in silence. Another strange thing, though not uncomfortable. I poured out the broth and pushed one to him. He raised an eyebrow at it, but muttered a thank you and took it.

I took up Kai's mug and watched him for a moment longer, enjoying the heat on my frosty fingers.

"Okay, really, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Oh my gosh, woman, I'm just sitting here eating a sandwich, why do you think somethings wrong?"

"Because I'm your friend and I know you, duh, so spit it out."

"You could be a bit more gentle than that, can't you?"

"I could, but then you'd ignore me. I know you, Tyson Granger. When you let your problems stay inside you make a huge, dramatic scene later when it all blows out of proportion."

A muscle above his eyebrow ticked. "Wow, jee, you're so flattering."

So I just sat back, waiting, and stared at him. That got him twitching.

Finally, he took down his mug and sighed, and I saw his breath poof across it as steam.

"I don't really know myself," he said, not looking at me. "I guess...I'll tell you later, yeah?"

But now I was really worried. He didn't look right. He looked...sad. Tyson sad was about as rare as Max getting sad. He more often just got mad.

In the quiet without the hiss of the gas stove, rain pattered on the roof and ran in waves down the kitchen window. A low hum of wind sung through the eves, laying something comforting and homey over us. It was delicious. Safe.

Oh yeah. This was why we were friends.

Putting Kai's mug down, I crossed the space between us and carefully put my arms around his waist. It reminded me a lot of hugging my father before he had gone to America for good.

"Hill?"

"Whatever it is, it'll all work out. Kay?"

He put a hand on my head to push me away, but seemed to change his mind and moved it around me instead in an awkward, one arm, sideways hug, having to keep a hold on his own mug.

"Thanks. You know, if you showed this nice side more often you probably wouldn't scare away the boys so much."

That earned him a light smack on the shoulder. He was smiling again, at least.

"Key word here is 'boys," I said, flashing him my cheekiest smile as I stepped away. "A real man, on the other hand, wouldn't be so easily frightened."

He snorted, but it was fondly. "Oh, please. You seriously don't understand the terror of a Hillary on a rampage."

"Better stop there before you ruin the moment."

"Yeah yeah. Need me to take that to Kai? It would suck if you got what he has."

"Too late. He's already panted all over me."

It took me a second longer than it should have to figure out why Tyson was grinning at me like that. I smacked him again.

"Seriously?" I hissed.

"You said it!" He dropped his mug in the sink. "Not that you would mind Kai panting all over you, huh?"

Despite his stupid, teasing smirk, I felt rolls of heat rolling up to my face that I so did not want to be there. Hopefully I kept my expression straight and unamused.

"How about 'no?' No one in their right mind would fall in love with that aloof statue. Not unless they wanted to die from heartbreak and neglect." I picked up Kai's mug, but hesitated. "Does he even like girls?"

To my chagrin, Tyson shrugged.

"Never let us know he had any interest in one. But you know Kai. He'd probably shove any feelings he got deep as deep can get until they petrified from lack of sunlight. It's like pulling teeth just to get him to admit we're friends, let alone that he needs anyone other than himself."

And, as usual, I couldn't help thinking how lonely that sounded.