MY HEAD ACHES AS I BLOW HARD into a tissue, folding it in half and wiping at my raw nose again. “Gross,” I murmur, dropping it into the light blue trash can in mine and Skyler’s bathroom. Still sniffling, my dark eyes scan my appearance in the mirror. My skin is ashy white, nose like fucking Rudolph, hair greasy, eyes droopy. I look like complete shit, and regardless of how I try to act, I feel like it, too.
The most obvious thing to do in this situation is haul my happy ass to the campus health clinic, but just the thought of it makes me groan. I hate doctors — of all kinds. Dentists, nurses, vag docs — all of them. I hate the way it smells in a doctor’s office, the way you have to weigh in every time, how long you have to sit before the grumpy old man waddles in to shove a thermometer in your throat and judge you for the amount of wax in your ears just to tell you you’re fine and buy some over-the-counter meds. It’s all an inconvenient circus and I’m over it before I even think of making the call for an appointment.
Throwing on a hoodie even though I know it’s far from cold in the house, I pad down the hallway to Erin and Ashlei’s room and let myself in without knocking. Erin is seated at her desk, head down, scribbling in her planner. Four highlighters are set up to the left of her hand and I sink into her sheets as she color codes her life.
“Don’t bring your virus in here, J-Love,” she barks without even looking up.
“Oh, shut it. I’m fine. What are you doing tonight?”
She sighs, shutting her planner and popping the caps back on her highlighters. “Landon is supposed to take me to dinner.”
“Well don’t seem so excited.”
“I was hoping to go through my closet and make the agenda for the council meeting this Wednesday.”
I eye her as I reach across her bed and rummage through her snack drawer. “You’re kind of weird, Ex. Anyone ever tell you that?”
She shrugs. “I just like to throw myself into things I can control, that’s all.”
“Well, maybe you need to loosen up a little. You’ve been wound too tight since the semester started. I think this new position is putting a lot of pressure on you. Plus you had that stomach flu.”
She blinks, crossing to her closet and flitting through the side with all her dresses. “Yeah. You’re right. It’ll be fun, I’m sure.”
I shake my head, unrolling a bag of veggie chips and popping one into my mouth. Just chewing is so much effort and my appetite is nonexistent, so I huff and roll the bag back up, tossing it in her drawer again.
“Is it my turn to lecture you?” I know she’s trying to joke about me being sick, but her eyes are so tired, so sad. There’s something going on with her that she’s not telling us.
“Erin, are you okay? Seriously. I know you had that pregnancy scare, and I’m sure even though the test was negative, it was probably pretty awful taking it on your own.”
“I’m fine,” she clips, stripping down to her underwear just to throw on a tight, lavender, knee-length dress. Ashlei flies through the door just as Erin bends to pull out her tall nude heels.
“Lei! What are you doing tonight? Hang out with me,” I whine. That’s one of my best qualities when I’m sick. I turn into the whiniest, neediest bitch ever. The problem is that what I want most right now is to either A, get drunk, or B, call Jarrett. And neither of those would be smart. Getting drunk would probably make me even sicker than I already am, and there’s no way I could hook up with Jarrett with my snotty face and germy mouth, so what else could we really do? Nothing that would keep us in the safely non-defined zone we’re in right now, that much I know.
“Uh, Bo and I are actually heading out to see the new Nicholas Sparks movie.”
I groan. “Booooo. I don’t want to go out. Can’t we stay in? Sneak a bottle of wine and watch one of the other cry-inducing movies he has out already?” I don’t even care that I just invited myself to crash their night. If she’s lying to me about what her and Bo’s relationship is, she should at least have to work to preserve that lie.
“We kind of already bought the tickets, J-Love.” Ashlei frowns, tying her long blond hair up in a high pony. “I’m sorry. You can come, though. If you want. But I totally understand if you’re not up for it.”
As much as I want to crash what I’m positive is a date and make them sweat, I don’t have the energy to. They’ll both live to lie another day.
“Ugh. Where is Skyler? And Cassie?”
“Skyler’s playing at a tournament downtown,” Erin says, checking her makeup in the mirror.
Ashlei nods. “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure Cassie said she’s hanging out with Grayson. They were going to check out some art festival that’s in town.”
I groan louder, exaggerating the noise, being as annoying as humanly possible. “Why is everyone happily living their lives tonight?”
Ashlei chuckles. “Just go to the doctor, Jess. Stop fighting it.”
“I’m fine.”
“Uh huh,” she says, shaking her head.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just a cold.”
“Whatever you say. Don’t spread your germs to my side of the room.”
“Oh don’t worry, she’s too busy rolling them around all over my pillow,” Erin adds as she opens their bedroom door. “Make sure you Lysol before you leave.” I toss a throw pillow at both of them just as they squeeze through the opening, laughing.
When they’re gone and I’m alone, I sigh loudly, glancing at my phone and groaning again at the two missed texts from Jarrett. I’ve been avoiding him, which probably isn’t a smart move, considering how that worked out for me last time. Although, I really wouldn’t mind being fucked in a dark closet right about now. But ever since I saw him with that girl at Pie Heaven, I haven’t answered his texts. Which is stupid. And petty.
Mrs. Stupid and Petty herself, ladies and gentlemen.
Huffing, I heave myself off Erin’s bed and mope down the hallway to my own, burying myself in the covers. I tuck my phone under my pillow and will myself not to look at it again. Calling Jarrett and asking him to hang out with me while I’m sick would be crossing the line into boyfriend territory, and that’s the last thing I want — the last thing he wants, obviously. We both understand what we are and what we are not, even if I am butt-hurt over him going to lunch with another girl, and sick cuddle buddies definitely falls on the what-we-are-not-list.
But the more time that passes, the more I want to text him — see him, be around him. The scary thing is that I don’t even want to hook up, not really — not specifically, anyway. It would be a nice added feature to the package but really, I just want his company. I want to make him laugh, I want to hear him talk about his day, I want to put my feet in his lap and watch a movie. And the more that realization sets in, the harder it is to keep myself from picking up the phone — from giving into a feeling I haven’t had in over a year.
I thought I could handle not putting a title on what we are, just doing what we want and going from there. But the truth of the matter is that I don’t hook up with other people and when I’m not with him, he’s all I think about. Toss in the fact that I get insanely jealous when I see him with any other woman, coworker or not, and the recipe for disaster thickens. I don’t know who I thought I was fooling.
What have I gotten myself into?