Resisting the Player -- [Completed - Unedited]

Chapter 19: Sick

No response. Which probably means they aren't home. Great.

I hold back tears. I just want some soup and comfort. Is that too much to ask for?

A series of coughs rip their way through my chest, and my body jerks with each one.

When I finally manage to stop, I may back against my pillow, extremely exhausted.

I roll onto my side with a groan and find my phone.

My burning eyes manage to unlock it and go to my text messages.

Sure enough, there's a message from Mom saying that, yet again, she and Dad got called into the office.

A quick glance at the time tells me it's just after one in the morning, and I let out another groan, followed by a cough.

I need to call someone because there's no way I'm making it out of this bed to get medicine, water, or food.

Okay, maybe I would for food, but that's besides the point.

Gabs doesn't talk to me outside of school anymore, so she's out; I vaguely remember Gracie saying that she'd be spending the night with Cole––something about a sleepover––and I'm pretty sure Cole doesn't live close to where I do, so both him and Gracie are out; Adrian said he'd be going on a weekend getaway upstate with his family, so he's out; Jacob's out because, from what I've gathered, his parents are very strict, so I doubt they'd let him drive to my house in the middle of the night; Autumn's out because she's staying at a friend's house.

The only person that's left is Aaron.

Another round of coughs plague my lungs, and I press on Aaron's contact and then the call button. I put the phone on speaker, hoping he picks up.

The phone rings once, twice, three times before there's a pause, one long enough to let me know that Aaron picked up, and I want to cry out of relief.

And pain, because everything still hurts.

"Cassie?" comes his sleepy voice. "What's wrong?"

I start coughing hard enough that it feels like my lungs are trying to catapult themselves out of my body before I can answer Aaron's question.

"Cassie," he says again, more alert now, the worry clear in his voice. "Tell me what's wrong."

I let out a groan after I swallow and the pain in my throat flares up. "I think I'm sick."

"Where are your parents?"

I barely register the question, but I somehow answer the question. "Not here." My voice sounds terrible; I sound like a chainsmoker. "Went to work."

He curses, quite colorfully, and I cough again, bile rising at the back of my throat before I'm able to swallow and shove it back down. "I'm coming, okay? Hang on."

He hangs up and I throw the covers off of me as my body decided it's hot.

I hate being sick, which is a little ironic, because I'm always getting sick.

I have a weak immune system. It's not anything life-threatening, it just means that I get sick a lot, and it takes longer for me to get better.

Which sucks.

At least, Aaron's coming over. As much as I hate to admit it, he makes everything better, and I could use that right now.

Shit.

My balcony doors are locked.

With a groan I push myself up and out of bed, and as soon as I stand up, the blood rushes out of my head and the room spins, but I manage to stumble to my doors.