Winter in Paris

33 | Thirty-three

PHOEBE HAYES

IT FEELS LIKE SOMEONE dropped me off a cliff and hung me upside down so all the blood would rush to my head at once. Vivid description, I know, but it feels like I'm gonna die. Every time I attempt to get out of bed, my head starts spinning and my stomach dips. The world feels like it's tilting or there's an earthquake happening underneath me. If I don't get better within the next few days, I'll be crying myself to sleep.

I know for a fact that I look like a dead rat that got drenched in water. My forehead is sweaty and my entire body feels like it's on fire but I'm cold all the same. You would think that after spending so much time here I would've gotten used to the cold but no, I didn't.

I like to pretend that I'm immune to the weather but when I get home, I bitch about it like a baby would when they don't get their pacifier. It's embarrassing, but then again, when is there ever something I do that's not embarrassing? I like to think I can laugh things off but sometimes they get to me and I can't help it.

Like when I was in the third grade and we went to the zoo. I thought it was a great idea—not—to drink an entire bottle of water, which by the way was big, and then go walking around after that. I ended up peeing my pants on the way back to school and everyone laughed at me.

But the fact of the matter is, I laughed with them because I didn't want anyone to see that I was trying not to cry. The thing that made it better was this boy in my class. He helped me get all my stuff and even stayed with me while I went to get a new pair of pants from the office.

Though, I do wonder where he is now. He was always nice to me, even after Gracie died and everyone found out about what happened. He still talked to me, made sure I was okay and looked at me as though I was normal. And in his eyes, I was normal.

But to be honest, I enjoyed talking to him for the few years we were in the same class. Even after everything, he would still help me with the homework when I didn't understand and he would laugh at all my dumb jokes.

At that moment I started developing a crush on him though I only ever got to see him at school. If I had asked my mom to hang out with him, she would have told me no—Said that I was cursed and I would only end up hurting him like I did with Gracie.

But lucky me—not really—he ended up moving away at the end of fifth grade. And considering I was his only friend, nobody knew where he went or that he was even gone for that matter.

It felt good to have a friend to talk to but after that, I went back to how I was before. Alone and trying to cope with the fact that nobody in my class or even my grade, liked me or wanted to be friends with me.

A heavy cough bellows out of me and I suck in a big breath before resting my head back on the plush pillow beneath me. My head is aching and no matter how many pain killers I use to help with it, they don't work. In fact, they're probably only making it worse.

And considering it's only getting colder, there's a chance I could get even more sick than I am now, which I don't want. I just want to go back to not sitting around all day and feeling weak. God, my bones ache and they feel so sore that even just moving my arms hurts.

"Pheebs, are you okay?" Elijah asks, peeking his head in from the doorway.

I narrow my eyes at him even though that hurts too. "Do I look okay to you? If I could get up right now I would sack you in the balls for asking me that."

His brows pinch together in thought. Then, he walks over to my side of the bed with a lazy smile on his face. Make that eight times.

"Ouch, you're really hurting me now," he puts his hand on his heart.