River Crossing

Chapter Twenty-Three

I awake to the hushed murmur of a conversation.

"Why didn't you make her eat any medicine last night?" Taylor asks, at her wits end.

"She was tired and I didn't want to wake her up."

"Her temperature is worrying. Make sure she eats the medicine when she gets up later, I have to get to my meeting."

"Alright, mom."

Taylor lets herself out, the door clicking as it shuts. The mattress sinks under Andrew's weight as he leans over to take my temperature.

"You can stop pretending, River," Andrew mutters. "I know you're awake."

I smile, opening my eyes. "Boo."

"I'm glad to see you awake," He retreats, holding the thermometer. "My mom has prepared breakfast for you."

With Andrew's help, I sit up and shuffle to the bathroom. The screaming headache makes it hard to walk – hell, it made it hard to do anything.

After washing up, I sit down at my study table to eat Taylor's pancakes and fresh fruit. The sweetness does not register at all, a side effect of the fever. I sigh and try to finish the food, something not as easy with my supressed appetite.

"Here." Andrew places a glass of water on the table and a pair of pills in my hand.

I grimace. "Must I really take this? Isn't my body supposed to heal itself?"

Andrew gives me a playful once-over that I reward with a light slap.

"Given your slight physique and general wispiness, I have my doubts."

I shove him lightly and make a good show of taking the medicine to ward off Andrew's revenge hit. Thankfully, I do not choke on the pills. Setting down the glass, I sit back, waiting for the drugs to kick in.

"How long have you not been feeling well?"

I shrug, walking back to my bed to grab Jason. "Just this afternoon."

"Then it's probably the winter that's getting to you." Andrew sits down on my bed, pulling out his phone and calling up a game to entertain himself.

"Don't you have any plans today? You can't possibly want to sit here all day."

Andrew lies down, curling up and never taking his eyes off the screen. "I'm supposed to watch you."

"Isn't there anything to do on campus?"

A slow, lazy grin spreads across Andrew's face.

₭₳₮

Walking on frozen water is hard, gliding on it? Worse, but apparently, Andrew is hell-bent on getting me onto the ice; home ground for the former hockey player.

I consider making a run for it as he comes back with two pairs of skates, having traded our shoes for them. He smiles like a fiend, possibly planning my glorious humiliation on the ice.

"When I said 'ice skate', I meant in Manhattan, not Maxton's Ice Centre," I say, crossing my arms. "How did you get the skates anyway?"

"The school gets a vendor in every Christmas, so don't expect this year-round," Explains Andrew, kneeling to lace up the skates.

"How did you find out about this, then?"

He smiles, his green eyes bright. "My mom used to bring me here."

Andrew ties up the ends of the laces in a neat bow and stands. I smile when our eyes meet.

"Now you're coming here yourself," I say.