My eyelids slowly slid open as I felt one of my shoulders being shaken, and I was hit by a wave of confusion when I finally made out the unfamiliar surroundings.
"You're in my car," a voice informed me as if they knew what was in my mind, and I instantly jolted in surprise. I looked to my left and sure enough, Jonah was there. He retracted his hand from my shoulder, glanced out of the window and jerked his head toward what was outside. "That your house?"
I followed his line of vision and spotted my sweet little house, so I nodded. "Yeah."
He wordlessly leaned over and unclasped my seat belt, and I momentarily had to hold my breath in surprise when he reached over my body. "Do you still need me to carry you?"
I moved around a little bit, testing if the pain was still there. It was, but it didn't hurt as bad. It didn't feel like it was ripping into two whenever I moved, so it should be a good thing. "No. I'm alright."
He slightly nodded before opening his door, getting out of the car. In an instant, he was on my side of the car, opening the door for me with my bag in his hand.
Was it appropriate of me if I just swoon right here, right now?
I slowly got out of the car and stepped aside so Jonah could shut the door. He locked the car, and I immediately frowned at him.
He frowned back at me. "What?"
"Um, you're not going back to school?" I asked in confusion.
"Are your parents home?" he asked. I shook my head. "Is any of your family home?" I shook my head again. "Then no, I'm not going back to school."
Completely baffled, I asked him the obvious question. "Why?"
He sighed as if talking to me was the hardest thing ever. "You could pass out inside your room without anyone knowing and then die. I don't like you but not enough to have a hand in your possible death."
My jaw dropped to the ground as I looked at him with a horrified expression. "No, that's not possible for anyone to die from menstrual cramps."
He shrugged. "You could be the first."
I gasped before glaring at him and turning around to walk—slowly and painfully—up to my front door. "Whatever. But I'm not making you any food."
"I can make food myself," he said.
"You're not making any food out of my fridge."
"From your cupboards, then? You gotta have a box of cereals somewhere."
I sighed exasperatedly, deciding to ignore him as I grabbed the spare key from under the ashtray on the coffee table on the front porch. I unlocked the door and went inside, gesturing for Jonah to do the same. He hesitated for a second before stepping into my house, his eyes instantly roaming around as he took in what was inside of my house.
"Welcome to the Taylors residence," I told him. "Go make yourself at home or whatever while I lie on the couch to relieve the pain and make some phone calls."
I grunted a little bit as I sat down on the couch in the living room, the house phone already in my hand. Now that the pain wasn't as painful as before, it still left some uncomfortable feeling around the area of my hips down, and moving around still felt a little awkward. I lay on the couch, my head resting on one armrest and my feet on the other. I made a five-minute call to Mom telling her that I was home and that she didn't need to worry, and then put the phone down on the coffee table in front of me.
Then I realized that Jonah had disappeared.
"Jonah?" I called out.
"What?" he called back, his voice coming from the kitchen.
I sighed. "I told you not to raid my kitchen!"
"Shut up," was his response. "I liked you better when you were asleep."
I rolled my eyes and flatly said, "Ouch." At least he'd admitted that he liked me. Right?
When he reappeared with a cup of warm tea—it smelled like chamomile—and a glass of orange juice, I immediately felt a little guilty.
"Oh," I said, slowly sitting up to take the cup from his hand. "Um, thanks."
"Yeah," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck and then taking a sip of the orange juice. "You didn't exactly say anything about getting a drink, so."
I chuckled, putting down the cup on the table after taking three generous sips. "I wasn't really serious. Thanks, again."
He shrugged. "My sister always drinks this after she complains about some cramps."
I tried not to smile. "I meant, about driving me home. But for this too, I guess," I clarified. "Thank you."
He shifted uncomfortably before sitting on a plush chair on the other side of the table. "Don't mention it."
"How old is your sister?" I asked conversationally, taking the cup again.
"Fifteen," he answered. "The most annoying phase of a teenage girl."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Been there."
"You are still annoying," he informed me, and I rolled my eyes at him.
"I'm gonna let that remark slide today," I warned him.
It was his turn to roll his eyes. He paused for a while, and then, "Is it still hurting?"
I shook my head. "Not as much. It always gets better after I take a nap."
"I thought you were dying back there," he said slowly, cringing to himself. "I mean you just... sat there and not really moving. Sorry for snapping at you earlier."
"Eh," I waved it off, holding back a smile at his uncomfortable expression. "You know what, I think I really thought I was dying too."
"That bad?"
I nodded. "That bad."
"How long had it been hurting?"
"Since I woke up this morning."
He eyed me in disbelief. "And you still went to school anyway? Can't you call in sick?"
I threw myself back into the couch, feeling my face getting warmer. "We're getting fake-married today and I didn't want to skip that just because of some stupid cramps. Didn't realize it was gonna be that bad."
He paused for a while, before sighing to himself. "You're so stupid."
I grabbed a plush pillow from the floor and threw it toward the general area of where Jonah was. I smirked in satisfaction when I heard the thump and the sound of his grunt.
Then I told him, "You know, it's not really obligatory for you to stay here. You can leave whenever you want."
He shrugged, swishing the cup around in his hand.
"It's gonna be a lot boring here," I added.
"I'm sure I can find a way to entertain myself somehow."
"I'm just gonna leave you to the dreamland anytime now."
"Don't mind."
I sighed. "You can make yourself some food or whatever from the kitchen. I was kidding earlier."
"I was going to cook without your permission anyway." He held up his hand when I was about to grab another pillow. "Can I watch TV while you sleep?"
"Just turn the volume down."
"Alright." He grabbed the remote from the coffee table, and I settled myself on the couch. He turned the TV on, making sure that the volume was low, and then told me casually, "I'll be here if ya need me."
With that last sentence coming from Jonah's mouth, I buried my face under the crook of my elbow, hiding the wide smile that blossomed just before I drifted off (again) to sleep with one thought in my mind:
Where had this side of Jonah been all my life?
[]
A painful twist in my stomach woke me up from my slumber, and in a flash, I was doubling over, my body rolling on the couch I was laying at.
It wasn't as agonizing as the pain I had felt at school, but it still made me want to throw up.
"Jonah?" I croaked once my hazy mind recalled that he had been here earlier. He probably didn't hear me, since there was no response. So I tried again, calling his name a second time.
I heard his footsteps shuffling toward me, and I felt him crouching down in front of me. "Hurts again?"
I nodded with my eyes closed.
"Do you have any heating pads?"
I shook my head. That was a lie. I did have one, but it was upstairs and there was no way I was letting him into my room.
He paused for a while. "Can you hold on for another few minutes?"
"I think so," I told him weakly. He left somewhere, probably back to the kitchen, and I leaned back into the couch, biting my lip as if it could help push down the pain. It slowly subsided, thankfully, leaving me with another constant throbbing. I still couldn't move, but I no longer felt like I was dying.
Jonah came back with a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth he probably found lying somewhere in the drawer. He soaked the cloth with the warm water, wrung it so most of the water was squeezed out, and then handed it to me.
"Put it under your shirt. It'd probably help," he said.
I did as told, and sighed when the warm feeling spread onto my skin. I almost could feel the twists unknotting, leaving me with relief. "Thank you."
He just nodded, watching me as the pained look drained little by little from my face. "Does it go on for days?"
I lifted one of my shoulders in a weak shrug. "Not really. The first day of the pain is always the worst. The rest are just slight aches here and there."
He whistled. "No wonder why girls are so cranky during their period."
I weakly glared at him. "What time is it?"
"Around one," he replied. "I was making lunch."
I raised my eyebrows. "Is it burning now?"
He rolled his eyes at me. "No, I turned the stove off when I heard you calling."
"What were you making?
He shrugged. "Just some grilled cheese." My mouth instantly watered at that. "You hungry? Because frankly, I am."
"Sure."
He disappeared back into the kitchen—my kitchen—and resumed cooking while I lied on the couch, pressing the warm wet cloth over my stomach and sighing in relief as the pain dissipated. Ten minutes later, he went back to the living room, bringing a plate full of what looked like a dozen of grilled cheese along with the mouthwatering smell that instantly teased my nostrils. I sat up in anticipation.
Once I bit into the grilled cheese, it melted on my tongue. "Okay. I forgive you for raiding my kitchen. This is so good. What did you put in it?" I said in awe. "What can't you do? Wait, don't answer that, it was rhetorical."
He ignored me, just chewed calmly as I sang him praises. There was an upward tick at the corners of his mouth, but he didn't let out a full smile. Sigh.
"Feeling any better?" he asked instead.
I nodded. "A lot. Thanks."
"Yeah." He shrugged. "It's not entirely selfless. I was hungry too."
"Why are you being so nice?" I suddenly blurted out, my nose scrunching in honest confusion. I didn't not enjoy it. But still. "I mean, it's just weird 'cause you hate me."
He calmly grabbed another grilled cheese. "I don't hate you," he said simply. "But I do strongly dislike you."
"Well, geez, I'm flattered," I said sarcastically.
"It's not my fault you're so annoying," he said with a scowl. "I mean. We're supposed to be getting along anyway, right? So isn't this a good thing, kind of?"
"Yeah... probably," I said slowly. "I just... I don't know. It's weird seeing you this... nice."
He made a face. "I'm nice," he murmured under his breath, turning his head away from me as he did so. But I still caught what he said.
I shoved another grilled cheese into my mouth before I blurted out something that would offend him. We were having a sort of great moment and I didn't want to ruin it just yet. So instead, I said, "So... silly little latte arts, ring crafting, and now grilled cheese cooking... what else can you do. Jonah Gibbs?"