Burnt Skies

Chapter One: Sick Day

"That's disgusting, dude." My best friend Taron is bent over hyperventilating and heaving up whatever it is that he ate for breakfast.

"Yeah, well you wouldn't understand because the only exercise you know is screwing around with the professors from a college you don't even go to." He smiled at me and started to laugh, but half way through the rest of the bile came out.

"Gross." Grimacing I turned around, open wounds, hell, even decapitation doesn't bother me. Throw up on the other hand, throw up is what makes me feel like I have the flu so bad I'm worried its permanent. Hearing him move behind me I know he's done and ready to get back to the dorms.

Taron races ahead of me and stops dead in his tracks, he goes pale and I see him start to sway. "I want to go home." He looks like a sad little kid who's been living on the streets in the winter, sick, dehydrated, and dead inside. He has bags under his eyes from endless nights of studying, muscles that have been getting stronger since junior year of high school, and light brown hair that matches his light brown eyes. His usual pale complexion is lighter than normal and with one look at him you can tell he is feeling under the weather. I actually felt somewhat bad for the poor boy.

"Let's get you home then, Taron." He nods his head just a little bit and gives me a look. Correction, he gives me the look. He's going to be sick again, I quickly turn around as he empties his stomach once again into the grass. I knew he wasn't feeling too well earlier but I thought that maybe he just had allergies, he insisted on working out and I was there on the sidelines watching his time, as I always do. As he kept running and pushing I noticed just how sick he really was and it only got worse. I know that it's good to sweat out whatever you can whenever you're not feeling well, but I also know that too much movement upsets the stomach as well.

When I don't hear him coughing and there's no more sound of liquid hitting the ground I turn back around. When I make eye contact with him I see them, the puppy eyes. Oh no. He's going to ask me something and keep giving me the puppy eyes that anybody can fall for until I say yes. Just what could it be? "Hey, Ezuna? Can you stay at mine with me please?" Oh, that's it?

"Of course, Taron. I always take care of you when you're sick." Smiling up at him he drops his shoulders and softens his knit eyebrows.

When we finally get back to his room he pulls back the covers on his bed and crawls under, whereas I head to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, a bowl of water with a towel, and a thermometer.

Sitting next to his bed I take the thermometer out of its casing and hold it in front of his mouth until he opens it and I place it under his tongue. Waiting to hear the beep of the thermometer I ring out the towel over the bowl and place it on his forehead after pushing his bangs back and out of his face. Finally, the thermometer makes the noise signaling it's finished and when I check I pause for a split-second.

"Oh, Taron, if you felt this bad why didn't you tell me earlier? You're at 102, we might need to bring you to urgent care." He pales once again, not because he needs to be sick but because urgent cares, emergency rooms, hospitals, and even the doctors office terrify him.

"That's exactly why I didn't say anything, Ezuna." He gave me a "duh" type of look and I roll my eyes at him.

"If you are sick and need to go to the doctors then you have to go." Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. He always tries to hide it when he needs to go to the doctors and it always makes me mad.

"Taron, I swear to God, if I need to bring you over to the urgent care and you bolt like a dog when we go out to the car I will disown your ass and I will never talk to you again." Hopefully, that'll work. He gawks at me and then it turns to a sly smile. "I dare you to disown me, you won't." I stand and turn to leave, taking on his dare. Before I make it more than two feet away from my original spot I hear him attempt to get up and fall on the floor. Thinking that he had passed out I whip around and see his legs tangled in the sheets and up in the air while his upper half is sprawled on the floor.