Straight To You

fifteen

Jack's house is huge.

I've never seen it before tonight, and I can't stop myself from wishing I wasn't too washed up to really take everything in. The floors are marble. The ceilings are so high I feel dizzy just having to look up at them. I don't think I've ever seen a place more extravagant in my life.

"You live in a castle?" I whisper-screech as soon as I enter through the front door, unable to stop myself from looking around me in awe.

"Not quite," Jack says with a chuckle, shutting the door behind him and turning the lights on. "Just a regular house."

"A huge one!" I cry, spinning around to see the ceiling, which only makes me more dizzy. "A huge house!" I start to crack up, wondering why that's suddenly so funny.

"Okay," Jack murmurs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to keep me steady. "You've got to keep it down, okay? My parents are asleep."

"Parents?" I ask with wide eyes, looking around in a panic. "Where?"

"You're funny," Jack mutters, walking me toward the stairs slowly. "Come on," he whispers, helping me ascend the stairs one by one. I notice that he doesn't remove his grip from me once, making sure that I'm clear on my feet. He keeps his pace slow so that I have no problem keeping up, allowing me to put most of my weight on him. About halfway up the stairs, Jack turns to me with an encouraging smile and murmurs, "We're almost there."

Minutes later, I stand inside what I assume to be Jack's room. The walls are blue and the floor is just regular hardwood. He has a queen-sized bed with a blue plaid comforter, his things strewn around the room in an order that only makes since to him. It's weird because, though I've never seen it before, I can totally see this being Jack's room. It's oddly him, if that makes any sense. Not that I've been making any sense lately, as I'm still pretty out of it.

Suddenly I don't feel too good. My head splits and my stomach churns at the same time my throat constricts, and I immediately know that I'm going to be sick. I hurriedly make my way into the bathroom which is adjoined to Jack's room, falling to the ground and beginning to puke my guts out over the toilet. My throat is on fire and tears spill down my cheeks involuntarily as I wretch, hardly breathing. Honestly, I don't think I've ever felt this bad in my entire life.

I hardly notice, but I can feel Jack at my back, holding my hair away from my face for me. Once I'm finally done puking, Jack wipes my face with a cool rag without even having to be asked. I wish my head weren't pounding so hard, because maybe then I'd be able to appreciate how genuinely kind Jack has been to me tonight. Part of me understands this while the other half of me is too much of a mess to fully understand anything.

By this point I've sobered enough to be in a slightly clearer state of mind, though not much. I find myself meeting Jack's gaze, too sick to feel embarrassed. "Thank you," I mumble to him, suddenly feeling as if I have a fever.