Perilous (Harry Styles)

chapter 12

Sleep overcame me every now and then, making me take naps for a few hours, before waking up again to a loud noise in the house.

Mom checked up on me a few times. Phoebe told Harry not to come over, although he pleaded that she would let him see me. I would never recommend to mess with my sister.

The day flew by in a haste and the next thing I really knew was my parents and my sister telling me goodbye and calling Lisa to take me to a doctor.

"Zoey-boo," I heard Lisa call. She entered my room without knocking and opened her mouth in shock when she saw me. "Well, don't you just look lovely today."

"Shut up. I haven't eaten anything in 24 hours, my family left me to die and I think I'll never see the daylight again," I whined, pouting a bit. "How did you get in?" My parents had left an hour earlier, taking both Phoebe and Adrian to the airport with them.

"Stop being so melodramatic." Lisa opened the curtains with one swift motion. The sun shone through the glass, making me wince ever so slightly. "And your parents placed a key under the flowerpot next to the door."

Opening my closet, my best friend picked some random items I could wear and ensured that I would have a plastic bag for her car, just in case.

Not even 15 minutes later, we were on our way to the hospital.

"Seriously? Hospital?" I said matter-of-factly, leaning my head against the cold car window. I was still feeling nauseous and the moving car didn't really help my case.

"Yep, most docs are on holidays with their families and I have no idea where else we could go."

"It takes ages at the hospital," I pointed out.

"It takes ages everywhere," Lisa fired back and turned up the volume of the radio to tune out my complaints. I glared at her, but she just ignored me.

As I had told her before, it really did take ages until it was our turn.

We entered a room with two chairs for patients and one spinning chair for the doctor, as well as a couch. I prompted for a chair, Lisa sat down next to me.

Patiently waiting another ten minutes until a doctor arrived, we were both disappointed to find out that it wasn't a Carlisle Cullen. The man was at least 60 years old and I doubted that he could see anything, even though he was wearing glasses with thick frames.

I explained what was wrong, leaving out the juicy bathroom details, but stuck to the facts nevertheless.

After hearing my part of the story and looking into my mouth and feeling my tummy, the doc sat down on his chair. "Well, Miss Clark, I don't even have make any further tests. You have a stomach bug. Stick to water and crackers only, and take one of these three times a day."

He handed me a slip of paper with an antibiotic written on it. I smiled gratefully at him and even promised him that I would come back if it wasn't better in the next three days.

"See? Not that bad. Now Harry can come over and be your personal slave for two weeks. Just drag it and say the doctor told you it would take at least two weeks to feel better," Lisa grinned evilly at me.

I scowled at her. "First of all, Harry has to go back to work on Monday. Secondly, I'm able to take care of myself."

"Of course. Hey, isn't that the room of your psycho doc?" Lisa asked, pointing at an open door.

It was, in fact, Mrs. Plotter's office. I could see a girl with long, wavy brown hair sitting with her back toward us.

The sound of footsteps and the shuffle of papers forced me to turn around. Mrs. Plotter ran into her room, carrying a stack of papers and waving quickly at me, once we made eye contact.