Chapter Twenty Four. Hate you, don't leave me.

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So I like this Demi Lovato song, it's a good one, reminds me of someone... (It's a not a happy story)

I'm changing things a little bit here, because there are always two sides to every story, right?

Enjoy!

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*Tom's POV*

I woke up to Jo's sleeping figure, I knew I had given her enough shit last night, but it made me angry how easily she thought she was the only one with questions here. I did spend the whole day with Michelle, and Jo knew it. I couldn't deny it.

Michelle was blonde and funny, in a way that was what got me talking to her in the first place, and then there were those big differences between her and Jo. Michelle was blonde, bottle blonde, but she was; she had the American accent and a tan too brown to be true, I knew she had to be a couple of sizes bigger than Jo, and maybe the biggest difference was the way she talked to me, as if she was trying to constantly please me.

Jo was a lot more transparent. I knew her like the palm of my hand, she had a small body, even in heels she was shorter than me and she was always embarrassed to buy such small jeans. Her hair still had some blonde bits but most of all it looked like her natural brown hair. She was all smiles all the time, I didn't need to start being childish for her to smile she always had a great mood and a great sense of humour. I never felt like filling the silences with her and she didn't try either. She never rushed into giving people shit, she always thought things through before speaking and she was having a tug war with herself because of me now.

I looked down at her; Jo was lying on her side facing me. I had made the jealousy act last night, but I couldn't help it, Michelle had talked to me about her and the Dane guy... I knew I had to apologise but not now, now I was getting up. She'd say that she had headache before we got into bed, I let her sleep like the previous day, maybe I'd have to force her into going to the doctor but for now I was letting it slide.

After making breakfast I looked back at the bed, Jo was still sleeping. I tried to wake her up; sitting down next to her on the bed I tried to speak softly so she would wake up, her face was hidden in the covers, she was fully covered with the sheets.

"Hey, it's time to get up..." I rubbed her arm over the covers and tried to get her to move. She pulled away. "Come on, yes I was...I was an asshole last night, but come on, don't be like that! I'm sorry..."

I rubbed her arm again and waited, she wasn't even opening her eyes when I leaned down to see her face. I didn't think her cheeks were that shade of pink the day before. I put a hand on her forehead; it wasn't just warm; it was hot, burning up, hot.

"What's wrong with you, Josefine...?" I pulled the covers from her, her forehead was sweaty and she protested softly as I pulled the sheets away.

"Don't...don't..." She tried to pull the covers over her body again. "Mom don't...mom..." she complained as I grabbed her hands and made her stop.

"Seriously, Jo?" I put my hand on her face again, yes, there was no doubt that she was burning up. "What do I do with you now?" I looked at her; the only thing that occurred to me was putting something cold on her forehead, but I had no idea how well would that work.

I picked up the phone as Jo mumbled some more in Spanish, there was just one person who'd handled Josefine's fevers before: her mother.

"Hello, Maura? It's Tom." I tried to sound friendly, I didn't know Josefine's mother very well, almost every time I talked to her father, not her mother, they were close but I knew little about the woman.

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