English Is Flammable (Student/Teacher)

Chapter 30

(Will’s Point of View)

“Hey, baby girl.  Did you have a good thanksgiving?”  I asked Shay over the phone as soon as she picked up.  I spent thanksgiving at my mom and dad’s house in the city last night with my brother, his girlfriend (this is a big deal for Max, seeing as he hasn’t held down a steady girlfriend since he was twelve), my sister, my mom and dad, a few aunts, uncles, and cousins, and some other random family members that lived nearby.  It was a good night and I got to brag about Shay the entire time.  

“It was great until my parents got a call in the middle of of dessert and had to leave to jump on the red eye to San Francisco.”  She said in a nasally, stuffy, all around sick voice.  And she was alone.  Poor thing.

“I’m sorry, babe.  You sound terrible, you want some company?”  I asked gingerly.  

“No, I won’t,”  She breaks off into a fit of coughing.  “make you do that.  Would you just drop a few boxes of Kleenex by my house.  You can just,”  She coughs again.  “leave them at the front door.”  She says, her voice now scratchy from coughing so much.      

 “Shay, I’m not doing that.  I’ll go get some Kleenexes, do you have soup or anything?”  

“No, Will, really,”  She coughs again.  “I’ll be okay.  I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me just because I’m home alone.  I don’t want you to get sick, either.”  God, she sounds terrible.  

“Stop arguing.  I’ll be there in twenty.  Any movie preferences?”  I asked her.  She grunted a no and a goodbye then hung up.  I left my sweat pants on and threw on a hoodie, not bothering to put a shirt on under it, grabbed my wallet and keys, then walked out the door.  

(Shay’s Point of View)  

I sneezed for the millionth time and didn’t even bother trying to get this Kleenex in the overflowing trash can on the floor next to the couch, which I’d pulled out so it was like a bed.  I’d felt pretty bad when my aunt was driving me home last night so I made up the couch to be like a bed, grabbing the comforter off the guest room bed and the pillows from my room.  I put on a pair of dark green plaid shorts with an elastic waistband that fit like a pair of boxers, a white tank top, and my dark grey, loose zip up sweatshirt and crawled onto the couch and fell asleep.  

Then, when I woke up in the middle of the night, coughing violently, I knew that I really was sick.  I managed to calm the coughing down after a good ten minutes, then got up slowly to avoid getting too dizzy (an issue I have when I’m sick), got all of the Kleenexes we had in the house, a small trash can from the downstairs bathroom, and crawled back in bed.  I woke up again at around four thirty this morning again with yet another coughing fit, then couldn’t stop sneezing.  I’ve been awake ever since (it was around 7:30), alternating between nearly hacking up a lung, and sneezing so hard it was like my brain was trying to come out through my nose.

I heard the front door open and the rustle of plastic, like a plastic bag, and Will’s footsteps.  He set the bag down on the counter and take whatever shoes he was wearing off, swearing when I assume he almost fell.  He walked into the living room, and looked around for a second, probably thinking I was upstairs.  He looked really cute, but my vision was so blurry I could hardly tell.  I tried to croak a ‘hi’, but only got as far as coughing.  Will whipped around and frowned in pity when he saw me.   

“Aw, baby.”  He cooed as he walked over to me.  He sat on the edge of the ‘bed’ with one knee bent so it was resting close to mine as he leaned over to kiss me.  I pulled away from him so fast that it made me a little dizzy.  He frowned.  “What?”  He asked, looking at me like a stranded puppy.