Unspeakable

Chapter Eight- Y/n

It's been a week since I played spin the bottle with the group and unfortunately, I wasn't up to participating in their daily shenanigans this time around. Since around Monday, I've been feeling off. When I told them yesterday that I wasn't coming over today, they all asked why, so of course I had to tell them that I felt sick.
       But like the older brothers they convince themselves to be, they insisted on taking me to the doctors in the early afternoon. I woke up this morning feeling like I had been hit by a truck, or like how Tom always felt the day after a long night of partying. I felt around my burning hot forehead, trying to soothe my pounding headache.
        I slowly sat up, letting out a hacking cough that made me wince in unbelievable pain. I immediately became more tired at my motion, wishing I could actually sit up without wanting to fall asleep. I decided to just call it quits and lay back down, sprawling out my body to be as comfortable as I could possibly be. I peeked my head out from under the pillow and noticed something strange on my left arm. I brought it closer to my face to get a better look, finding red streaks and dots all down it.
        "What the heck..." I softly asked myself, trying not to strain my weak vocal chords. I inspected it closer, seeing dozens of bright red dots line my arm. I looked at the other one, finding the same thing. I decided that I must have chickenpox and I'd hate to expose the boys to that, especially Tom with his career, whether it's partially put on hold right now due to COVID.
        I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and shot the group chat we were all in a text, immediately getting a response from Harrison.
        "No way we are staying home, well, the others can but I'm still taking you to the doctor. I've already had chickenpox so I won't get them again" it read, making me smile.
        The others replied shortly after, saying the exact same thing. Wow, I sure have great best friends. I smiled and told them thank you and that I was going to take a quick nap before I saw them at 11, getting a few thumbs up emojis. I dozed off right after for an hour or so, too exhausted to remember what I dreamt about when I woke up. I heard a soft knock on my ajar bedroom door, someone's head peeking in.
        "Oh hey," I greeted tiredly, slowly sitting up as they came in the room.
        "No, lay down!" he scolded, making me softly giggle as I did what I was told.
        "You're not my mother, Haz." I smiled, slightly propping my back up against the pillows.
        "Well, she's back in the US and I'm here so I don't see a difference," he laughed, coming over to my bedside and sitting down.
        "Are you sure you won't get sick?" I asked, causing me to start hacking.
        "If you have chickenpox then no, if you have something else, most likely I will but someone's gotta take care of you. Besides, the boys will be here in a few so at least I won't be the only one possibly getting whatever you've got," he told me, putting his hand on my shin as I stared at him.
         "You really are the best mate a girl could ask for," I grinned, taking his hand in mine.
          For a few seconds, we just gazed at each other, not sure what to say until three other familiar faces popped in. Our attention was averted to them as they strolled in my room, coming over to where Haz was. I retracted my hand from his and placed it closer to my body, not sure why things felt awkward all the sudden.
        "Oi, Y/n, you really do look sick," Harry said, open-mouthed while I eye-rolled.
        "Well, sorry, I guess I was a little too busy trying not to die to slip on my ball gown and a full face of makeup for you guys," I groaned, letting out a cough.
        "I kid, I kid," he smiled, sitting beside Haz.
        "Gosh,  is it 11 already?" I asked, grabbing my phone. They all let out gasps as I did this, making me wonder what they meant until I saw them looking at my arm.
        "Y/n, what's wrong with your arm?!" Sam asked, a shocked/slightly disgusted expression written across his face.
        "That's the pox, mate, gosh." Tom groaned, slapping his forehead.
        "Yeah, at least I think that's what it is," I speculated, observing my arm.
        "Well, the doctor will tell us in a few minutes if we get going now," Tom said, standing up, taking out his phone to look at the time.
        "Yeah, we really should be heading out since it's 20-till and you still have to change," he told me, waving up and down at my comfy wardrobe.
        "You're not wrong," I laughed, slowly swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
        "Really?" I yelled weakly, pointing at my legs, which had each had a visible rash from under my exercise shorts down to my ankles. They didn't have bumps however, which I thought was odd, but I tried not to think too much due to my exhaustion.
        "Yeah, we really should be taking you to the doctor," Harry said in all seriousness, still letting out a chuckle.
        "Could one of you help me get up?" I asked the group of bystanders, immediately getting a volunteer.
        "Yeah of course." Harrison answered, standing up and holding out his hand. I grabbed it, forcing myself to move faster than normal. He pulled me up, resulting in me standing right in front of him, staring into his bright blue eyes. I let out a genuine cough, using it as an excuse to look away.
         "Yeah so if you guys could go out while I change, that would be great," I laughed, causing them all to immediately head to the door.
           I shut it after they all passed through and slipped on one of Harry's sweatshirts that I had snagged at some point, a fresh pair of exercise shorts, and some flip flops, completing my comfy ensemble. I brushed my teeth and nearly gagged a few times on the paste because of my extremely sore throat. I ran a brush through my mildly-tangled bed head, grabbed my phone from the bed, and turned off the light, slipping out the door.
           The ride to the doctors was quiet, mostly because the boys knew I couldn't talk much without wincing in pain. They left Harrison's car at my apartment and we all hopped in Tom's instead, arriving at the doctor's ten minutes later. They were told to wait in the hall due to the dangers of the current pandemic and I went in, a little scared for what I might have. Fatigue, coughing, a headache, and sore throat are the normal signs of strep throat or a cold, but the rash added a whole new abnormality to it all.
           After around ten minutes of waiting, I was called and sent into one of the rooms. The nurse came in and checked my weight and temperature, stating that I indeed had a fever of 102 degrees. I let out a groan after finding out that I had to get my throat tested, dreading it like I always do. I shivered as she went out, and came back in shortly later with the long Q-tip. I flattened my tongue as she quickly swabbed the back of my throat, causing me to let out a stifled gag the second she took it out of my mouth. Forget stocks or electric chairs, that in itself could be a torture device.
            She exited, telling me that the doctor would be in shortly with the results, basically saying that I had to wait another five minutes, given that no one with COVID was around, then I would surely be here at least an extra 15. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any, because the doctor came in a few minutes later, holding a clipboard. He asked what my symptoms were and felt around the outside my throat, looked inside my ears and inside my mouth, and thoroughly inspected my rashes. After checking out everything, he let out a sigh, putting on his glasses and looking at the clip board.
            "And you said you started feeling this way a few days ago?" he asked while I gave him a nod.
            He said the results of my tests were positive, but not for the strep test I thought the nurse had taken. What he diagnosed I had made me let out an angered laugh, unable to believe what I was hearing.
           "And I was surprised the test came back positive because the symptoms usually take around 4-6 weeks to develop, never just a week. But, there's a first time for everything I suppose," he sighed, making me angrier with the news he just gave me.
         "Yeah, weird." I answered through gritted teeth, trying not to scream.
          He left me to stew while going out and printing the forms I needed, then coming back and saying I could go to the front desk. I gave the receptionist the papers he gave me and when she brought up the subject of payment, I let out a chuckle.
         "If you excuse me, I'll go get my purse," I said through a fake smile, heading out the door that led to the hallway.
          I was greeted by the boys, who immediately turned their attention towards my furious glare. I approached them, their confused faces looking at my angered one.
        "One of you idiots gave me mono," I spat through gritted teeth, trying not to strangle each one of them. Their perplexed expressions turned into shocked and embarrassed ones, the faces of the three boys I kissed turning red.
        "Sorry," they apologized in unison, glancing at the floor before looking back at me with sheepish smiles.
        "Not. A. Word," I threatened, pointing my finger at each one of them.
        "So, are you ready to go?" Tom asked cautiously after a few seconds of us just silently standing there, not wanting to cause a blowup.
        "No. I told the lady I was going to go get my payment method," I answered while he just stared at me, not getting my drift. I bugged my eyes out at him while waving towards the door.
        "Oh, right," he answered guiltily, heading around the corner and into the waiting area.
         He came back a few minutes later, leading us all back to the car. It was a dead silent ride the way home, which I enjoyed. It gave me time to think of my unfortunate circumstances. Why did I have to get sick from just a few quick pecks? But the doctor said it was possible when he asked me if I kissed anyone lately, which was extremely awkward to answer given the situation that I kissed three different boys in a matter of 20 minutes.
         Thankfully I was able to say that I kissed a few guys in short time periods, none of the kisses being longer than four seconds or so. I know for a fact that the first two with Harry and Sam had to be at the most two seconds, but the one with Tom, I'm not sure. That one was on the edge of around four seconds; I was just caught up in the moment!
         And if we're talking about the one in the kitchen, that one was also probably five seconds or so, and we both really kissed for that one. Even though it was longer and more "passionate" than the rest, it still didn't mean anything to me or him. He was just messing with me, that's all. It was quite hilarious actually, the more I thought about it. If I've learned anything these past six years it's that the Holland's way of pranking is complicated and not to be messed with. Even though their ways seem weird and very unorthodox, it makes the time spent with them 100 times more fun. After all, we're family, it's what we do.