Wake Me Up

Chapter 8

"Megan, time to wake up," Archer voice rings in my ears. I groan, I've only been asleep for what seems like a few minutes, it can't be time to get up yet.

"Meg, we overslept. Practice started a couple minutes ago," my eyes fly open at what he just told me. I throw the sheets off of me and jump out of bed. I clutch my head as the room starts spinning because of my sudden movements. Then a wave of nausea runs through me, I quickly run to the bathroom, Archer right behind me.

I get to the toilet just before I empty out my stomach. Archer crouches beside me, holds my hair back and rubs my back. When I'm finally done I flush the toilet and get up off the ground. I sway a little and go to put a hand on the wall to steady myself, but miss and start tipping over. Archer cant get a hold of me quick enough and I hit the cold tile with a thud, sending a shock throughout my limp body.

"Meg! Are you okay?!" Archer asks, panic putting his tone on edge.

My head is throbbing, I raise my hand and touch a sore spot on my head and when I pull back my hand and see red blood run down my pale fingers. I start seeing black dots in my vision.

"Meg?!" I hear before blacking out.

When I come to I'm lying on my living room couch, Archer talking on the phone while pacing back and forth.

He glances at me and realizes I'm awake and sighs with relief. He's at my side instantly, "Jesus Christ, Meg. You scared the shit out of me," he says gently strokes my head, which is still hurting. "Yeah, she's awake," he says into the phone. After a few more words are exchanged he hangs up. "That was dad, he left early this morning for business. Moms at work, as usual, and Matt is at soccer."

Shoot. I have never missed a single practice. Then why is Archer still here too?

"After you threw up, you fell and hit your head then passed out. Only for a couple of minutes though," he explains. I nod, remembering. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." he scoops me up in his arms and carries me as if I weigh nothing into the kitchen. He sets me carefully on the countertop and opens up the medicine dwar. He gives me two aspirn and a glass of water which I chug. He dampens a washcloth and cleans up the dried blood on my head. I wince a little which makes Archer cringe seeing me hurting. He grabs an icepack out of the freezer for me to put on the large lump forming on my head.

I tell him I'm going to brush my teeth and head upstairs. I take the steps slowly, careful no to fall again. After I brush my teeth, riding my mouth of the vomit taste, I redo my ponytail and then wash my face clean.

I get back downstairs and join Archer on the couch. "How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Terrible," I answer truthfully. I have the worst headache, I'm sore all over, my throat burns, and I'm exaughsted. I shiver, cold in my thin pajamas. Archer notices and takes off his sweatshirt and gives it to me. I say thanks and slide it over my head. The sleeves are way too long and it looks like it swallowed me. But it's warm and comfty and smells just like him.

"What about practice?" I ask him.

"Meg, you're sick and I'm home taking care if you. I called the coaches and told them what's was up,"

"You didn't have to miss practice for me," I say sheepishly. Again with all the attention.

"I want to take care of you. You obviously need a day to rest," I agree, I do need a day off. "You hungry or anything? Do you need something?" he's adorable when he's all caring and sweet.

"I need sleep," I tell him. He nods and gets up. But I don't want him to leave, "Can we go to my bed," I yawn.

He sighs, but doesnt protest. Then picks me up again and I wrap my arms and legs around him. He carries me upstairs and places me back underneath the sheets. He closes the blinds and turns of the light, he's about to leave so I ask for him to stay with me.