I’M DYING.
Death by sinus infection.
Rest in peace. And mounds of tissues.
When I woke up yesterday morning with a stiff jaw and heavy head, I knew I couldn’t push off going to the doctor any longer. If my voice wasn’t an indication that there was way too much mucus happening in my head, my puffy cheeks definitely were. So, after I helped Cassie channel her inner Christina Aguilera circa 2002, I dragged my snotty ass down to the health clinic and faced my verdict.
Severe sinus infection.
And, because my luck is just the best, I made it to the campus pharmacy six minutes after they’d closed for a mid-semester celebration, whatever the fuck that means. So not only did I have to miss the Fratalina Wine Mixer because I felt like shit, but I also couldn’t even get the meds started to make me feel better.
Perfect.
But, finally, here I am — in line to pay for my antibiotics and a can of condensed soup so I can start getting my life back on track. Spring Break is in a week, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be a snot head in a bikini come then.
“Jess?”
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
I don’t even want to turn around, but at this point, I’m busted. Moving slowly as if I’m in the presence of a poisonous snake, I force a smile, cringing simultaneously at the thought of what I look like right now just as Jarrett’s face comes into view.
Pissed is an understatement.
I wait for him to yell, scream, ask me why the hell I’ve been ignoring him — but instead, his eyes rake over my body, catching on the pharmacy bag clutched in my right hand.
“You’re sick.”
I chew my lip in response and he blows out a breath, closing his eyes for a short moment before springing into action. Snatching the soup from my hand, he walks it back to its place on the shelf with me trailing behind.
“What are you doing?”
“You don’t need to eat that processed shit if you’re sick.”
“It’s just a sinus infection.”
Setting the can back on the shelf with more force than necessary, Jarrett takes a breath before turning to face me. “Don’t argue with me right now, Jess.”
I swallow.
“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”
“Is this why?” he asks, his expression pained.
“Mostly, yes.”
“Mostly?”
Ugh, this is the last thing I want to do right now. I was so close to soup and Netflix.
Jarrett runs a hand over his bald head before grabbing my hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, not really minding as long as I can have this view of Jarrett’s tight ass in the basketball shorts he’s wearing.
“We’re paying for your script, going to a real grocery store, and then back to my place.”
“Wait,” I interrupt, tugging my hand out of his grip. “Jarrett, I’m sick. I don’t want to…” I trail off. How do I say this lightly?
Hey Jarrett, can we lay off the fucking until I can breathe through my nose again? Kay thanks.
“We’re not going to,” he says as we reach the counter, taking my script from my hand and plopping it down in front of the cashier. She’s a student, probably a senior, with dead eyes that light up just marginally when she sees Jarrett.
“I don’t understand.”
Jarrett pays for my script and then grabs my hand again, leading me out the door without another word.
I’VE BEEN IN JARRETT’S APARTMENT several times — hell, it’s practically the only place we can hook up outside of his truck or my car or some random public place. I’ve slept over, we’ve made breakfast together — but no matter what, it always began or ended with fucking each other senseless.
So being wrapped in his goose down comforter on his couch, homemade soup in hand while he finds a movie on Netflix and pulls me close to him, I’m a little uncomfortable.
My appetite has been virtually nonexistent for weeks now, but when I take the first bite of Jarrett’s homemade potato soup, I moan at the creamy deliciousness.
“This is amazing,” I mumble around my next bite. “Thank you.”
“It’s my mom’s recipe.”
I pause, spoon halfway to my mouth. “Really?”
He nods. “She, uh,” he pauses, sniffing. “She gave me the recipe before she passed.”
The air in his apartment takes on a heavier weight and it’s too much to even hold my spoon up. Letting it drop back into the soup, I reach out and gently touch his arm. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
Jarrett covers my hand with his own and squeezes. “It’s all good, I was young. She had cancer. Classic kid-with-a-dead-parent sob story.”
I frown. “Don’t be like that.”
“Sorry. I’m fine, really. Honestly, I came to peace with my mom’s death a long time ago. What I can’t understand in this moment is why you’ve been ignoring me.” His dark eyes are hard on mine. “You said it’s mostly because you’re sick. What else?”
I take another bite, mainly to buy myself another minute to think. “Well, remember how you fucked me into admitting I was jealous over Spencer?” He nods. “I, uh, I saw you two together. At Pie Heaven.”
Jarrett sighs, rubbing his face. “I told you she’s just my boss’ daughter. We surfed that morning and grabbed lunch after.”
I shake my head. “Stop. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I know we’re not together, and that’s why I’ve been avoiding you, because I shouldn’t feel jealous over who I see you with, Jarrett. Jealousy is dangerous. It leads to more intense feelings.”
He watches me carefully, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Come here.”
“Ew, I’m so gross right now.”
Jarrett fights a smile. “Jess, come here.”
I’m hesitant, but eventually comply, setting my bowl on the coffee table and maneuvering until we’re both lying on the couch spooning. Jarrett wraps his arms around me, tight, pulling me into him and kissing my bare shoulder. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met.”
I snicker, pulling the blanket up under my chin. “How long before I chase you away?”
He’s quiet for a moment, his free hand running through my hair, lulling me into a sedative state. “You can’t chase someone who’s not running.”
My heart accelerates at his words, but before I have the chance to call him out, he pushes play on the remote and we fall into a comfortable silence.
And that’s how the rest of the afternoon and night go. We cuddle, watch movies, talk, eat when necessary, and eventually crawl into bed around midnight. Jarrett tends to my every need, making sure I’m comfortable, bringing me my medication with a fresh glass of water when the time comes and making sure I eat. When he flicks off his bedroom light and slides into the sheets next to me, pulling me until I’m resting on his chest, and kisses my forehead sweetly, I feel it all press in around me.
I thought I would feel the fall. I thought I would crash on the cold hard ground and look around wondering what the hell happened. But the truth is, I fell slowly, softly — like a feather floating down, down, down into an undiscovered world.
And now, I’m scared there isn’t an option to go back to the person I was before.