Jamie, meet Dylan. Dylan, meet Jamie

Chapter Twenty-One

"Mrs. Forrester I think he's up," I heard someone say. My head hurt like a dagger sliced it in half.

        I could barely keep my eyes open, but I could see my mother standing over me with a face as pale as the sheets under me.

        "Jamie, sweetheart, can you hear me?" she asked as she pushed my hair away from my forehead. I nodded. My eyes were beginning to open and my vision was starting to get clearer but I was still so tired.

        "I shouldn't have let you stay up all night," she said as she shook her head at herself.

        "Mom," I tried to say but it only came out as a moan. I tried again. "Mom, it's my fault. I drank a lot of coffee and I knew the consequences. It wasn't anyone's fault but myself," I said. It was actually Dylan's.

        "God when the school called I didn't know what to think!" she said as tears formed in her eyes. I had just fainted, it wasn't like I was in a coma. But if I had fainted I would've woken up in the classroom and not the nurse's office.

        "How long was I out for?" I asked the nurse who was busy sterilizing equipment.

        "About thirty minutes. That's what worried us," she said.

        "I'm gonna take you to see a doctor now," Mom said. I sat up straight. 

        "No, I'm not going. I'm fine now!" I told her. I didn't want the doctor seeing the cut, I didn't want the doctor suspecting that I had swum in deadly cold water. That wasn't going to happen. Dylan would kill me.

        "Dylan you were unconscious for thiry minutes. You were lucky I refused the ambulance!" Mom badgered me.

        "Mom I promise you I'm fine. I was just stressed, that's all, and I can't afford to skip any more classes" I said as I stood up from the bed. I was still light headed but I made sure I didn't look that way. 

        "Fine," she said with a huff. She had given up and I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling.

        "I'll see you at home," I told her with a swift peck on her cheek. She smiled and patted my back.

        "Thanks," I told the nurse before I hastened to my next class. The hallway was empty and I knew class had started. I didn't need a pass since I knew news spread like wildfire and at least five people had filled up my teacher on my "accident". 

        "Forrester," I head Mr. Marslow call me from behind. He had been standing by the nurse's office. What was up with him?

        "Mr. Marslow, hi," I said as I turned around. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my pants as I looked around hoping he'd say something so awkward.

        "Glad to see you're up on your feet," he said. I smiled and muttered a low "thanks".

        "James," he said. That was the first time he used my first name. Sans nickname, this was serious. "What I don't understand is that you had drunk all that coffee and yet you showed up with no essay," he said as he looked at me for some semblance of an explanation.

        "I just didn't have the time to finish it," I said with a shrug. He shook his head; he didn't buy it.

        "Now I was a student your age once. Without internet or Google or whatever it was you guys use those days," he said. No, not that speech. "I know that two thousand words can be done in eight hours. Meaning you had time during the weekend to read, to write, and to proofread and still be done and get a good night's rest. I know you're a good student, which is what surprised me. But what surprised me even more is that you jeopardized your health for a report that you didn't even hand in," he said.