In Sickness

Fever

Tyson was hovering over the pot, a spoon already half way in.

"Don't you dare!"

He jumped, dropping the spoon.

"Jeeze, Hillary! You need a cat bell or something."

"Step away from the soup."

"But it's cold! And I'm soaked and starving—you wouldn't want me to get sick like Kai, would you?"

I stomped a foot forward and he scurried back, dark eyes reproachful.

"The one time you seem to make something palpable," he muttered.

"It's for Kai. If you're so hungry, make your own food, or better yet, see if Ray's up to making dinner tonight." Speaking of which...I fished out the dropped spoon from the broth and looked around. "Where are they? Didn't they come back with you?"

After Kai had thrown up and collapsed, the three had been about ready to cart him off to the hospital. The mixture of horror, misery, and humiliation on Kai's face had been enough to prompt me to suggest the others stay behind on the beach to clean up the remains of their ruined party while I 'escorted' Kai back to the dojo. Oh, Kai tried to escape, and he probably would have made it even if I hadn't been attached to his arm like an overgrown leech, but, alas, whatever it was he had now had sucked him of energy. I already had it in mind to get him to the hospital anyways if he got worse, whether he wanted it or not.

"Max's Dad called him home for some reason and Ray left with him." Tyson flipped back some wet hair with a disapproving snort. "Their teammate's down and they just abandon him. Some friends. You know they even invited me? Like I'm going to leave Kai when he needs me."

"If you're going to end up eating his soup, maybe you should have," I said darkly.

Tyson stared. "It's my house!"

"And this is Kai we're talking about! Why do you think he didn't say a word about how he was feeling?"

"Easy. Because he's a prideful, arrogant jerk who likes to deal with everything on his own and doesn't give a crap what his body tells him." Tyson paused, his frown softening and eyes widening. "Why did he come? I mean..." With a closed mouth huff, he threw his hands behind his head. "Screw it. Whenever I try to figure out Kai, I end up just making things worse. I promise I won't eat his stupid broth, so would you please make me a sandwich or something? You can't screw that up."

I whirled my spoon at him, flinging boiling hot liquid with it. Tyson jumped out of range with a shout.

"I'm not your woman. Make your own damn sandwich."

"But, come on, Hill, I can't cook."

"You just said you can't screw up a sandwich," then, at the reproachful, kicked puppy look, I sighed. "If you can find any leftover rice, maybe I can fry that up for you—"

"On second thought, I'll just make that sandwich."

I threw my hands into the air. Finally give the guy a concession and he just uses it to insult me. Why were we even friends?

But he did have a point. It was kind of weird that Ray and Max would have flown the coup so quickly. They had this big slumber after party planned. Maybe they had thought it better to give Kai some space. But a whole house was a lot of space—and what about me? Sure, I was a girl, but...scratch that. My mom had put a stop to my participation in Tyson's slumber parties when I had turned 16. Apparently crazy orgies or sex in general wasn't a temptation before then, but whatever.

Tyson did his usual grumbling as he pulled out his sandwich ingredients and smacked them together.

"I hate sandwiches," he said.