Supernatural Boarding School #3 - A Brush of Death ✅

Chapter 54 - Simon

Thank you to @SholaHughes for editing this chapter and all the chapters after this, and for agreeing to help me edit all my books.

Fair warning to all my readers: you are now reading one of the last chapters of this book. Chapter 57 will be the very last chapter. Don't worry though, I will start writing book 4 soon and I am working on editing book 1, 2 and 3 so I can get every single book published and not just book 1. 

ENJOY!

Simon's point of view

"Come on, baby." Sheila opened the front door of her aunt and uncle's house for me and helped me over the threshold. God, I felt horrible. In fact, I don't think I had ever felt this sick in my life. Not even that one time I'd had food poisoning and the flu at the same time back when I'd been in elementary school.

"Is he okay?" Tabitha appeared in the hallway, looking exhausted. It felt wrong to hear a woman battling cancer express concern about me. It was probably just the beers, or the pizza, or maybe even a stomach flu.

"Don't worry," I said, smiling as brightly as I could. Even though I was trying to put on a brave face, I knew that the moment Sheila let go of me I'd end up on the floor. My legs were trembling uncontrollably and my vision was blurred slightly.

"Simon, you look bloody awful." Harry came into the hallway as well and he put an arm around me, shifting my weight from Sheila to him. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

He carried me up the stairs with a little help from Sheila and laid me down on her bed, instead of on the inflatable mattress on the floor. Harry had put it there when I had started spending the night at their place. Ever since Sheila had moved in with them, I had been spending most of my time here as well.

"What's wrong with him?" I heard Harry ask Sheila in the hallway, the door still slightly ajar. "He reeks of beer. Is he drunk?"

"No, no, of course not!" Sheila told her uncle, sounding appalled. "He had two beers, no more. Simon doesn't drink much. Besides, drinking beers doesn't make you sick the way he is. I've never seen him like this."

"Good," he grunted. "He's not old enough for those two beers, but I guess I'll let that slide. He looks even worse than Tabitha and that's a hard thing to accomplish." That much was true. She had been feeling bad for a long time now, and at first it seemed like getting diagnosed was actually a step forward because she could get treatment, but now she only seemed to feel worse with every day that passed, and she hadn't even had surgery yet.

Harry and Sheila left for a moment, shutting the door on me. I just lay there, still wearing my jeans and T-shirt, even my shoes still on my feet. I worried about getting dirt on Sheila's bed, so I tried to sit up to take them off. It took a lot of strength and I had to work hard not to puke while I bent over to undo my laces, but I managed. Panting, I lay back down on the bed, sweating like I'd just ran a marathon.

Sheila came back into the room and she sighed when she saw my shoes next to the bed.

"Seriously?" she asked, sounding the tiniest bit annoyed. "You look like you might freaking die and you're worried about having your shoes on in bed? Simon..."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and put her hand on my forehead to check if I had a temperature. Her hand felt as cold as an ice cube. That probably wasn't a good sign...

"I'm fine," I tried to assure her, but even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true. I wasn't fine. Not even a little bit. I'd truly never felt this awful.

"Here, drink some water," she ordered, helping me to prop up my head. She had a glass of water in her hand with a drinking straw in it to make it easier for me to take a sip. So sweet of her to think of something small like that.