One of a Kind - Stanley Uris

28: Sick Day

Note: My actual friend, Taryn, helped me write this chapter. Credit to her beforehand. Enjoy! 

DERRY - August 25th, 1990

Today, I woke up and felt like absolute crap. My head was pounding like a hammer, and my throat was more parched than the Sahara Desert. I was not in the mood to eat, so I stayed snuggled up in my bed. But my bed was too hot. I got up from under the covers and then laid on top of my blankets, suddenly sweating like an animal. Mom called me for breakfast, and when I didn't come, she came into my room.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She felt my forehead, and then said, "I think you have a fever. It would be best not to go anywhere today." I nodded.

It honestly really sucked that I wouldn't be able to go anywhere. Richie, Bill, Mike, and I were planning to play rugby at the park today. But it was also kind of nice to be able to watch some TV for once. I put on a movie that I don't quite remember the name of and watched that for a while. There was water and a piece of toast on my nightstand, which I would munch on occasionally. I read some books, and eventually fell asleep. Mom took a day off to stay with me, even if I was fourteen and could easily take care of myself.

I woke up to the sound of knocking on the door and said in a groggy voice, "Mom, doorbell!"

She went to get it and I heard her say, "Well, hello there, Stan."

Wait. What? I sat up and paid attention to their conversation.

"Yes, Y/n's a bit feverish. I'm sorry, but she can't play with you guys today."

"Alright," came Stanley's reply, and then I was out of bed, my head spinning as I did so, speed-walking to the door. My hair was quite a mess, but I wanted Stan to stay if he wanted to. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows from the stoop, and I self-consciously combed parts of my hair with my fingers.

Mom turned around and said, "Y/n, you should probably get back to bed so you have time to play tomorrow when you're better."

"But can Stanley keep me company?" I asked.

"Honey, we don't want Stan to get sick--," Mom began, but Stan stopped her.

"I don't mind," he said quietly. "I don't usually get sick, and I could help you around the house..."

"Well, you must be overly generous," Mom smiled. "I suppose, but I would stay away from Y/n as much as you can, just in case." Stan nodded.

"Okay, then," Mom said, shutting the door behind him as he walked in. "Would you like to help me do the dishes?"

I wandered back to my room and collapsed back onto my bed, suddenly exhausted. Who knew opening the door could take so much energy? I slept for a while after that, and was awakened by the sound of my door opening. It was Stan, carrying a tray with what looked like chicken noodle soup and a banana.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he said softly. "Wake up and eat something."

"If I was Sleeping Beauty you would have to kiss me first," I smiled.

"Okay, fine," Stan replied, and bent down to kiss my forehead. "Better?"

"Yes," I said, feeling drowsy.

"Now eat. It will make you feel better."

I reluctantly sat up and took a sip of the soup. It tasted just like I remembered from when I was little, when I was kept home sick from school. Mom would always make her secret-recipe chicken noodle soup for me, and it was like swallowing a warm hug. Stan sat on my bed and watched me eat before he said, "Are you ready for school to start in two weeks?"

"Two weeks?" I said, looking up from my soup with bewilderment. There was no way that was possible! I moaned and covered my face with the pillow. "I don't wanna go back to school!" I whined.

"Just think about it," Stan said. "Geometry... English Honors... Biology II..."

"Stop it, you jerk!" I cried out, hitting him with my pillow. He laughed and gave the pillow back to me.

"Tell you what," Stanley offered. "If you want, we can do a little something before school starts."

"What?" I asked.

"It's a surprise," was his only reply. "Sorry, Y/n, I have to go help your mom. It's fun."

"Chores aren't fun," I said. "Who likes them besides you?"

"Other people with obsessive compulsive disorder," he laughed, and walked out of my room, leaving me to eat my soup and banana in peace. I missed Stan's comforting presence already. I read a book for the next hour, listening to Mom and Stan work around the house and their small conversations.

I guess I fell asleep again, but when I woke up, the sun was very low in the sky and I was feeling much better. I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, where Mom was reading the newspaper. She looked up when she heard me and smiled.

"Feel better?" she asked. I nodded.

"Did Stan go home?" I asked.

"Yes, he did around noon. It's seven o'clock right now. Do you want to eat some more chicken noodle soup?"

I nodded again and then sat at the seat next to hers. Mom got up and went to the stove, where the chicken noodle she had prepared that morning had sat. As she reheated it, I looked around the house. It was a lot more prettier, that's for sure. It was also more organized. Nice job, Stan, I thought to myself, impressed.

As Mom placed the reheated bowl of soup in front of me, I began to think about Stanley. I kind of wished he had stayed longer and talked to me, just about random things. I must have had a wistful look on my face because when I looked up from my soup, Mom was staring at me with a mixed expression of confusion and amusement.

"What's up, honey?" she asked. I didn't know whether to spill all of my feelings out to her or to just tell a dumb lie.

"Just thinking about a dream I just had," I replied. After I had my soup, I wasn't feeling tired at all. But it seemed to become a different story when I collapsed on my bed. As the warm covers fell over me, my eyes closed tranquilly, and I began to dream.