Noise

Chapter Nine

He woke with his head pounding.

As he sat up a wave of dizziness washed over him, he ran to the bathroom across the hall and was sick. The sound of his retching echoed inside the toilet, ringing in his ears.

When he was done he wiped his mouth and rested his burning cheek against the cool porcelain.

The headache he had from this morning was throbbing against his skull, threatening to split it in half.

Downstairs he heard the door slam and the soft jingle of keys as they were placed on a table along with the rustle of plastic.

"Scott, I'm home! Come down and help with the groceries."

Groaning, he lifted his heavy head from the toilet seat and got to his feet. His head rolled to the side, feeling thick, his ears hot and stuffed as though under water.

"Coming!" he yelled, but even his own voice sounded muffled.

His mother was in the kitchen putting groceries into the fridge. She smiled at him when he came down the stairs.

"I got your favorite for dinner," she held up a package of frozen chicken. "I think I'll fry this up for dinner tonight, sound good?"

He held the bile back at the thought of greasy fried chicken and leaned against the kitchen counter. He swallowed but his dry throat felt sore and the spit he managed to produce tasted sour. He wanted to go upstairs and brush the taste out of his mouth right away.

"Sorry, I'm not hungry."

Like any mother who has raised a teenage boy, she caught up on the fact that if he wasn't hungry it either meant something was going on or he wasn't feeling well.

She glanced at his pale, sweaty face and glassy eyes and immediately started pushing him back up the stairs. Without a word she had him tucked into bed and a thermometer in his mouth before a word of protest could be made, not that he felt like complaining.

"Well, it's official. You're dying." she said seriously as she checked his temperature.

Laughing took too much effort so he just stared at her.

"It's not so serious that we need to prepare for your funeral, but I think school is out of the question." she patted his shoulder and stood up.

"I'll get some medicine. If you're feeling any better later I'll make you something easy to eat." she winked. "If you're lucky, I'll get you ice cream."

He smiled weakly. "Thanks, mom."

She pushed his hair away from his forehead and kissed it softly before she left his room.

Ollie curled up next to him on top of the covers, purring loudly. Turning over he pet her gently as he closed his eyes.