These past two days, I have stayed home. I suddenly got a fever out of the blue. I guess it came yesterday, when I was outside for practically the whole day, preparing for the upcoming event at school.
God. The timing of this fever could not have been worse; there is so much to do as the student council president, plus the loads of assignments I have, and most importantly, that shitty project in science that counts like so much of my grade.
Fuck, I hate this so much. My whole body is aching, I'm sweating so much, and I have a very bad headache. I just want to end it all.
Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, I called out to my mom, shouting as loudly as I could.
However, to my dismay, I was met with complete silence, realizing that she wasn't home. This only added to my distress; I was left to suffer alone with my fever. Tears started rolling down my eyes.
The loud ringing of my phone broke me out of my breakdown. I groggily reached out to answer it, hoping it was mom calling to check in on me.
Looking at the caller, I let out an audible groan, tilting my head back.
"What is it?"
"Hello, to you too," Aiden said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I let out a cough before sniffing my nose. "I don't feel good; get to your point."
"Open your door," he replied, his tone unwavering.
What. I stammered for a bit before finding the words, "What?"
"I said, Open your door. Thompson." His words hung in the air, leaving me even more perplexed. Was this some kind of joke?
I laughed, "You cannot be serious," then abruptly got off my bed and made my way towards the window. As I peered outside, there he was, standing on my doorstep, waving his hands with a huge smile on his face.
I quickly shut the blinds, taking my phone in my hand and saying, "Miller. What are you doing here?"
"Answer the door, and I'll tell you," he responded calmly.
"What if I said no?"
"Than I'll stay until your parents come home."
If my parents saw a boy waiting at the front door for me, I'd be dead, especially my dad. He's a pretty chill guy, but when it comes to boys, he does not play.
"Fuck," I quietly muttered under my breath, thinking about what I should do. Should I let him say it out there until he finally decides to leave, knowing he won't, or should I just let him in to see me in this state?
"No," I finally uttered, then ended the call quickly before he could respond.
I then crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head.
However, my moment of peace was short-lived as my phone began to ring again. I ignored the calls, declining each one swiftly.
Eventually, the ringing ceased, and I was met with a blissful silence.
But just as I thought Aiden had finally given up and left, the sound of rocks hitting against my window shattered my thoughts.
Startled, I hurriedly opened the window, only to have a small rock hit me square on the forehead. "What the hell, Miller!" I exclaimed, while rubbing the spot.
"Sorry, sweetheart." He replied with a half-smile.
"Just go home; what are you even doing here?"
"Let me in, and I'll tell you."
Sighing, I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to let him in or not.
"If I let you in, you can only stay for a bit, just to explain to me why you're here, and then you'll leave, okay?"
He simply nodded.
Wrapping my blanket over my body, I headed downstairs.
—
"What is it?"
"You look like a mess." He pointed it out while trying to hold in a laugh.
"If you're here to insult me, you're welcome to leave." I said, trying to push him out.
He simply laughed. Knowing how my antics to push him were to no avail he stayed glued to the floor.
"Just tell me why you're here." I asked, after finally giving up and clearing my throat.
"Honestly, I have no idea." He ran his hand through his hair with a smile.
"Get out," I coldly said. Sniffling
Aiden shook his head. "You obviously have a cold, and I can't let that come between our projects, so I came to check up."
"Is that really why you're here?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
He nodded. Alright, if he was here only because of the project, then I guess.
"Alright, let's just" I began to say, but my words were cut off by a sudden throbbing in my head. This fever was giving me the worst headaches. I instinctively placed my hand on my forehead, wincing in pain.
Aiden quickly pulled me back up.
"No, don't touch me; I'm sick," I said, trying to distance myself from him.
He shook his head, a smile on his face. "I've been standing close to you for the past minutes; that's already done."
I sighed, leaning against the wall, still feeling the effects of the fever. It was a relief to have someone here with me while I'm sick, but at the same time, it's Aiden. I'd rather anyone else then Aiden Miller.
I shook my head. "You should go; I'm fine."
"Fine?" he questioned, raising his voice. "You're burning up."
He was right. I could feel my face heating up, and I didn't want him to see me like this, all red and sick. In fact, I didn't want anyone to see me like this.
Aiden led me to the couch and gently made me sit down. "Sit over here".
I watched as he started to walk away, and instinctively, I called out, "Where are you going?"
"Kitchen."
—
I lay on the couch, my breathing labored, my body burning with heat, and my nose completely stuffed. I felt incredibly uncomfortable, especially with Aiden in my house conducting some sort of experiment in my kitchen.
After a few minutes, he emerged with a drink in his hands and a proud smirk on his face. The smell wafted towards me, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Even though the drink wasn't close to me, I could already detect its pungent aroma. What on earth was in that cup?
"Ew, what is that?" I asked, my voice laced with disgust.
"Drink this and don't argue with me."
"No," I countered, deciding to argue. "That substance will not enter my body."
He shook his head, seemingly amused. "Come on, it's not that bad."
"Whatever that is looks like a potion that is used to poison someone."
"Thompson,"
"Miller," I replied, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow.
"Even when you're sick, you're still your stubborn self," he chuckled.
"I'm not stubborn," I insisted. "Just look at what you're holding and tell me it's not something they used in the 1800s to poison someone. There are literal bubbles floating out of it."
Aiden laughed, shaking his head. "It's not that bad, look." He took a sip, trying to prove his point.
His face scrunched up—well, there's an expression I've never seen on him. He quickly swallowed the drink, coughing for a bit. Before turning around and flashing me a smile.
"See, it's awesome."
I couldn't help but giggle. "If awesome is the new word for disgusting, then you're absolutely right."
"I'll just leave it here, and you can decide whether you want to give it a try and feel better or continue suffering here for days," he said, walking back to the kitchen.
Left alone, I pondered whether I should take a chance and drink it. With a deep breath, I grabbed the bottle and started chugging the entire drink, my hands pressed firmly against my nose.
Oh God, it is poison.
—
ah, the sick trope, how I love it so much ;)
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