While Mara was sick I avoided her like the plague. It was almost ridiculous, the lengths I went to to ensure I wouldn't catch the same bug. I don't think I had any contact with her for three days. I hardly even saw her.
I washed everything and acted like a total freak, and now it appeared as if it was all for nothing.
Stuck on the toilet with my pants around my ankles I leaned my head against the wall beside me with a groan of frustration. I liked to think I was a generally healthy kid and when my body did this to me it felt like betrayal. Especially after everything I did to stay away from Mara.
"Unless you want to walk to school I suggest you get a move on in there!" Mum knocked on the door loudly, "you've still got to have breakfast yet Jack."
Preferring not to have a conversation with her while I was sat on the toilet I packed myself up and after spraying the room left to go share my situation. Judging by how the last quarter of an hour had been I knew school was very likely going to be a total disaster. I didn't like skipping days, but I also didn't like the prospect of spending my day in a dirty cubicle.
I grimaced and peeled my shirt off my back as I walked into the kitchen. My whole body felt hot and sticky, probably from both exertion and fever. It was gross.
"Sit down, I'll make you something quick." Mum pushed me into a seat and fixed my collar as she whirled by. I managed to grab the hem of her shirt before she got too far, "I think I've caught Mara's bug, I feel yuck."
"We both know you have that French exam today Jack, you don't have time to play this. Dad's going to be leaving in ten minutes and I've got to take Mara to her guitar lesson. Didn't you study?"
The words French exam had my mouth falling open and my stomach gurgling even more. I had totally forgotten. To answer her question, I had not studied, not at all.
Miserably I dropped my head into my hands, "oh god..."
"Nice try," Mum offered an amused smile and pushed a bowl of cereal in front of me, "now eat up."
"Five minutes!" Dad called as he rushed past the door way, pulling on a jacket as he went.
I shook my head and pushed the bowl away, "seriously Mum, my stomach's a mess."
She simply rolled her eyes dismissively and then kissed the top of my head, "although I admire your determination, I don't believe you."
Knowing full well that convincing her was about as possible as walking through a brick wall I instead rolled my eyes and got up to put my shoes on.
Mum swipes my bowl away and efficiently packed up the kitchen. She laid a kiss to my cheek, "good luck with your test, make sure you eat lunch."
"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled to myself as she darted away to collect Mara from her room.
In the car with Dad on the way to school I decided it was worth my time to try my luck again. My stomach was already working up to another trip to the loo and I still felt hot, especially in the stuffy school uniform I had to wear.
When I told Dad I wasn't feeling well he just chuckled and shook his head, "you never get sick Jack. That French test got you worried?"
I groaned and shut my eyes. Apparently everyone had remembered the test except for me, and it was not working in my favour at all.
"It's not about the French test Dad, my stomach hurts..." I whined childishly.
We pulled in the school gates and the car jolted to a stop in the front if the car park. Dad tapped my leg, "I'm sure you'll survive, goodbye."
"But Dad-"
He leaned across me and opened my door with a pointed look, "bye, Jack."
Seeing as people were starting to look I decided that it'd be easier to just get out of the car. dad wasn't going to be changing his mind anytime soon anyway. Him and Mum were as stubborn as each other, I don't know how the two of them ever made any decisions together.
Not bothering to hide my annoyance I shot Dad a glare and grabbed my bag off the floor. Dad simply smiled and waved as he pulled the door closed after me, rolling down the window so that he could say goodbye before leaving me.
I waved him off begrudgingly and then turned to face the school, already holding my twisting stomach. If I just blocked everything out and droned through the day maybe it would go faster.
My zoning out plan didn't even last until the very first bell. I was walking to meet Kade and Georgia in the library and an angry pang had me running in the opposite direction towards the god awful boys restrooms. Up the stairs I pushed through all the people and stumbled inside, hoping that it would be empty in there.
Thankfully there was nobody else in sight but that didn't keep the experience from being possibly the most embarrassing ones of my life.
First bell finally did go after some time, and I was still sitting there wondering whether or not it was safe to move. Hearing the bathroom door open as students hoping to duck out of class entered brought the decision on quickly and I lethargically hoisted up my trousers. I flushed the loo and washed my hands before heading back out into the busy halls, feeling no less than revolting and all kinds of awful.
Walking in to Chemistry it felt like everyone was looking at me. They probably weren't, but I still felt the heat rush to my face as I ducked my head down and hurried to my seat. My stomach felt even worse now, I swore the sounds it was making were grossly audible and the twisting was just getting more and more painful.
And as lonely as it felt sitting there alone, I was glad Kade was off traveling with his family. It meant that I didn't have to bother explaining myself or attempt to be my usual self. I could literally feel my own heat billowing from beneath my skin and I definitely did not feel up to fluent conversation.
I was worried about lasting the day, to be totally honest.
The teachers voice kind of faded into the background as she started to ramble on. In the beginning I managed to scrawl down the notes she was reading aloud from the board. My gut then cramped hard and my pen cracked in my hand as the other tightened around my T-shirt. The pain dulled almost as quickly as it had struck and I found myself almost falling asleep. My hand stopped working and I gave up on trying to force it across the page. My head dropped forward to lay on my desk.
Luckily the teacher was facing the board and she didn't tell me off or anything.
In the end the thing that made me pick my head up was the need for another bathroom trip, hardly half way through the period. I threw my hand up to ask to leave and then was out of there faster than I would at the end of a really shit day.
Leaving the bathroom felt just as horrid as it had the first time and going back into class was an even worse experience. I was seriously starting to get frustrated at mum and Dad, hardly containing myself from letting my agitated thoughts spill out loud in a series of psychotic mutters. If they'd just taken me seriously that morning I wouldn't be in this situation. Instead I'd be at home, in bed, napping. It sounded far more comfortable than this was.
I thought about going to whine to the nurse. I didn't feel like surviving a English lesson and my head was beginning to thud. She'd listen to what I had to say and probably call Dad, only for him to laugh and tell her about my apparent try at avoiding that damn French test. It would be pointless.
On my way to English I tried ticking through everything I was supposed to know for this test but it was impossible. I had no clue where to start and everything felt like one big, foggy, mess. I was going to fail the worst I ever had in my life. The test wasn't a big deal or anything, just an end of topic kind of thing, but I usually did pretty well on the subject and I knew my teacher would have high expectations. She was going to be pretty confused when grading my test after all of this is over.
I collected myself outside of my English classroom for a few moments. I could just revise at lunch, and then hopefully not do so awfully that it resulted in an awkward conversation with my French teacher about the day I had the shits.
Decision made, I took a breath and headed into English.
For once Georgia was massing from classes today too, so once again I was sat on my own struggling to comprehend a single thing the teacher was saying. Another trip to the loo and a short nap on my desk top later I finally had the chance for a break to string my thoughts together. Food most definitely wasn't on the menu for morning tea, the way my stomach was rebelling it'll probably all come straight back up and there was no way in hell I was going both ends. Instead I just sat and stared at the ground, my phone in my hand so that it looked liked I wasn't totally out to the world.
Before I knew it the bell was ringing and that annoying sound was the thing that reminded me of my French exam, the one I was supposed to be studying for right then and there. And now I actually had to go to French, with zero idea of anything.
I could just walk out of school. Leave.
The problem with that plan was that there were no bathrooms out on the street and there were no guarantees I'd make it all the way home without at least one humiliating stop.
I wiped the sweat off my face as I entered my French class and slumped into my seat lethargically, glaring at the paper sat face down on the desk. Everyone was dead silent, we weren't allowed to speak at all during test periods. The kid beside me shot me a look when my gut suddenly made an obnoxious growling sound. I tapped my pencil and pretended not to notice, maybe he'd think it was someone else.
"You may start," the teacher said quietly and everyone flipped their papers over.
My pencil was literally slick with sweat and the words scattered over the page in front of me looked nothing like the language I'd been studying for two years now. It was total jibberish apart from a countable number of random phrases that managed to dig themselves out of my head.
Even worse, I was beginning to feel like another bathroom break was in order.
I held off as long as I could, squirming in my seat and rustling my paper to hide the gruesome sounds emitting from my stomach. It was useless and after five minutes I threw my hand into the air yet again.
The teacher didn't look impressed when I asked to go to the toilet, even after I repeated it in French. With a disappointed wave of her hand she thankfully let me go anyways and I quite literally staggered out of the room, thanking God that the bathroom was only a few doors away.
Afterwards I could hardly muster the strength to stand. It just didn't seem worth it. My legs felt like noddles and the only thing waiting for me back in class was a test that I was sure to fail no matter how hard I strained myself. I took the time to let my body cool and then took my phone out of my pocket. It was time to try convincing Dad again. Mum was working so she wouldn't be able to pick me up even if I did manage to persuade her too, so he was my only option.
I typed out a short explanation and sent it his way, my phone dinging quietly in my hands.
Barely a minute later I got a quizzical response, 'where are you now?'
I huffed and replied, 'stuck on the loo, feeling like if I stand up I might fall straight back down. Just come get me.'
He took longer to answer this time and I could imagine him ticking through all the options.
'Are you alright?' Came the solitary response.
'No.'
'I'll be there in 15, tops. Sorry Mate.'
With a sigh of relief I resisted the urge to cheer. As I felt now it would probably be the thing to push me over the edge.
With newfound strength I packed myself up and left the cubicle to splash some water onto my hot face. My knees shook and my stomach cramped painfully as I dragged myself back to French to let my teacher know that I was going to the nurse and pick up my bag.
True to his word Dad arrived not long later and with one look at my probably nasty appearance he turned into the over protective, sickeningly sweet Dad he always did when one of got sick. He carried my bag out to the car, and frankly I'm surprised he didn't offer to carry me too.
Once sat and buckled down he frowned at me and felt my skin for fever, pulling away with a sigh once he'd had his touch, "you're pretty hot Jack."
"That's what they tell me..." I groaned and leaned my head back against the rest.
"So, how did your test go?" Dad asked sheepishly after a quick roll of his eyes.
I opened my eyes and shot him the evilest look I could manage considering how exhausted I was.
Dad chewed his lip and turned away, focusing his attention on the road guiltily, "sorry 'bout that..."
"Damn right," I grunted before rolling slightly and promptly falling asleep.
Here's another, average length I suppose. It took a while though, sorry! Bit hard to write, I didn't really want to get into any detail so that's why it's a bit bland I guess.
The next request will be for: loltreestyler