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I wake up the next morning feeling like death.
The minute I open my eyes, nausea overwhelms me. I sit up, forehead beaded with sweat, and untangle my legs from the covers. I sprint to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet and coughing into the bowl, yet nothing comes up as I haven't had food in nearly a day.
I stand up, wiping my mouth and looking into the mirror, and then instantly wishing I hadn't. My hair is a frizzy mess, skin flushed and dark bags under my eyes; I look like a walking disaster.
I quickly wash my hands, onto to cough into them once more, and head back to my bed, leaning down and scooping Romeo up. He meows in refusal, wanting to stay asleep on the soft comforter. I scratch the back of his head to get him to hush as I slowly climb the stairs, each step taking a big amount of energy.
I make my way into the kitchen, and place Romeo on the counter. I find a note on the fridge. I rip it from the tape and read it.
Grace-
I'll be gone for the day with Caroline. Hope you slept well.
-Dad
I roll my eyes, tearing the sticky note in half and tossing it into the trash. I pull some plain crackers from the fridge as I walk to the laundry room and open the medicine cabinet, Romeo scampering at my heels. I pull out the thermometer and place it in my ear, waiting for the beep as it reads my temperature. Once it makes a sound, I pull it out and read the small numbers. 101.2. Great.
I release another cough into my arm and tie my hair back, lumbering back to the kitchen with the same pace as a Zombie. I grab a blanket, some books, water and the TV remote, planting myself on the couch. Romeo climbs onto the pillow next to me, rolling onto her side and staring at me with her huge blue eyes.
I pull out my phone, clicking Isaac's contact and calling him, clearing my sore throat so he can at least recognize my voice.
"Hello, Grace Baker!" Is the first thing he says when the phone stops ringing.
"Hi, Isaac," I mutter, words weak.
"Grace? You don't sound to good."
"I know."
"What's wrong?" He asks.
"I'm sick as a dog." I reply. "I'm sorry, I can't get ice cream today." There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Isaac?"
"Hold on." He says, and the line goes dead. I furrow my brows, staring at the now black screen, and rolling my eyes. Boys.
I toss my phone onto the other side of me, pulling my blanket up and going through the recorded shows on the television. Grey's Anatomy? Too sad. Teen Wolf? Seen every episode. Three times.
I settle on the Office, one of my favorite shows, snuggling into the comfy cushions.
My doorbell rings only fifteen minutes later. When I don't answer it rings again. I grumble to myself, pushing up off the sofa and trudging to the front door, unlocking it and opening it.
"Isaac?" I ask, staring at his face in front of me.
"I came to make you feel better." He says cheerily.
"I don't want you to get sick, though." I tell him, playing with the end of my shirt.
"Don't worry, I won't kiss you or anything, if that's what you were thinking about." Isaac smirks. I can't help but smile. Even though I've considered it before, wondering how my own lips would feel against his, I am not thinking about right now. Or at least, I wasn't until he brought it up.
I shake my head. "I'm more curious as to what is in that bag." I point out the grocery sack he is carrying as I open the door wider for him to step in.
He sets it down on the tables and pulls out to cardboard cartons. "I brought our ice cream." He smiles as I shut the door.
I laugh. "You never fail to impress," He hands me my own pint of it, and I read the label. Ben and Jerry's: Milk and Cookies. "How did you know my favorite?"
"I asked Jane." He replies as we walk into the kitchen. I pull out two spoons for us, handing one to the boy standing next to me. "Are you home alone?"
I nod as we sit back down on the couch. "Yeah. My dad isn't here," I say quietly, opening the lid and taking a bite of the vanilla ice cream.
Romeo prances over to Isaac, rubbing against his arm. "Hello, Romeo," Isaac says sweetly, petting his grey fur.
"He's settled in nicely," I state, listening to him as he purrs, rolling onto his back. "Sometimes he acts like a dog, though." I run my finger along his belly, and he sits up, grabbing my finger in his small paws and nibbling on it. I've managed to keep him hidden from my dad. Not that he would care, and not that he has the power to get rid of him. I paid for him, and I pay for nearly everything in the house. If anything, I should be able to kick my dad out. Or Caroline.
She's been around more and more lately. I come home from school and she is in the living room, cozying up with my dad. I smell her perfume on the furniture, and I see her sitting in my mom's old rocking chair. The woman doesn't even make an attempt to bond with me, like I'm an unimportant factor in her relationship with my dad. She doesn't care about me, and I cannot imagine her being my new mom. Sometimes I tell myself at night I won't even go to their wedding.
Isaac interrupts my thoughts with asking, "What show are you watching?"
"The Office," I hit play on the TV, watching as Jim plays another hilarious prank on Dwight, as Kelly complains about being single once again, and as Michael hobbled around on crutches after burning his foot.
"What happened to him?" Isaac asks, not being caught up with what is happening.
"He burned his foot on a grill while making breakfast in bed," I answer, letting another bite of ice cream soothe my sore throat. "He doesn't even care that Kevin may have skin cancer."
We go through three more of my favorite episodes, one where there's a fire in the office, the second one where Jim convinces Dwight he is a vampire, and the one where Michael accidentally hits Meredith with his car.
After the episodes conclude, I've taken some medicine, and the ice cream pints are empty, I decide to send an email to my boss, saying I won't be able to perform tonight.
"I'm gonna go get my computer," I say, slowly standing up and making sure I'm grounded before moving my feet in front of the other.
"Here," Isaac holds my arm, helping me to maintain balance. "I'll help." I waddle down the stairs, Isaac keeping me steady. "It's cool how your room is in the basement." He adds.
"Thanks," I say, collapsing onto my bed. I watch as Isaac observes his surroundings. He notes my collection of vinyls, and my books, and even my collection of snow-globes. I trace the quilt on my bed as he sits down next to me. He places his hand against my forehead.
"You don't feel as hot," He says.
I nod. "I feel a little better," I offer a small smile. "Guess a dose of Isaac was just what I needed."
He grins. "So, email?"
I nod. "Yeah." I reach over and grab my laptop,
pulling it onto my lap and going to my email account. I open my mail box, preparing to send a message to Rick, when I notice an email from a particularly unsettling name. I let a confused look spread across my face as I open the message, Isaac glancing over my shoulder.
Dear Grace Baker,
You have been virtually-formally invited to attend the seventeenth birthday celebration of Lincoln High's very own Claire Reynolds. The ceremony will be held at Jeanine's Bakery, attire shall be casually formal. Attendance is expected. We hope to see you there.
-Reynolds' Event Committee
I hand the computer to Isaac, watching as he reads the words plastered across the screen. I see him shake his head as he reads it, pursing his lips.
"I got the same invite this morning." Is all he says, giving it back to me.
I widen my eyes in surprise. "Why would she invite us? She doesn't like me."
He shrugs. "I don't know. But I'm willing to go if there's cake. What about you?"
I ponder the possibility for a moment. Surely, if Isaac is there, everything will be alright. I can stay on the low with him. And the whole school will probably be at the party, and I don't wanna hear how much of a "bitch" I am for being to only person not going.
"Why not." I state, closing the laptop and tossing it onto my pillow, hoping my actions won't bite me in the ass.
I lean onto my elbows, playing with my fingers. I look over at Isaac. "Thanks for coming over."
"Thanks for letting me in the door." He replies. I offer a small smile.
He smiles back, taking my hand, tracing it with his thumb. A warm feeling caresses over my skin, not the same warmness from when my fever was high, more like a reassuring, relaxing, safe warmth. One that I have never felt before. One that I never want to let go of.
I think back to the first day I met Isaac, how I wanted nothing to do with, with anyone. But somehow, some way, he found a route into my life. He is a prominent piece of it now, and I can't imagine it without him.
A few months ago, I told myself I would never smile again. I was convinced that a chance at happiness was unreachable. I felt encaged in the prison of depression, and felt as if I would never become a refugee.
I was plummeting down a never ending rabbit hole of sadness. But just before I hit the bottom, Isaac caught me, pulling me back up.
I feel so good. So lightweight, so careless, so free. I tried to push away the feelings for so damn long, I tried to tell myself it was nothing. That we were nothing. That we were ultimately just friends and that Isaac was nothing but a boy who liked to flirt with every girl but now I realize I'm the only girl he flirts with.
And as I'm staring into his murky blue eyes, and as my heart seems to beat quicker, and as butterflies race around my stomach and as the growing, crazy sensation of just wanting to be in his arms engulfs me, I realize something I never would have thought I would realize that first day I glared at him for trying to talk to me.
I'm so in love with Isaac that I don't know if I will recover.
~
Tada! She finally accepted it. She finallyyyyy said she loves him! The story is finally starting to gain momentum and I am so excited for what is to come in the rest of the plot line. Hehe :)
-Acreativeblur