I skipped lunch, so I decide on an early dinner. I make a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and grab a bag of chips. Bruno sits at my feet while I eat, and Chanel sleeps on the opposite end of the couch. I turn on the TV and get sucked into the news. When I see images of the city with streets that are usually full of people looking like a ghost town, I shut it off. I don’t know why I torture myself further by watching it. Standing, I decide to prepare something for Cami to eat and switch over the washer.
When I go back upstairs to grab the tray, I notice what I brought her earlier hasn’t been touched. Worry covers me like a warm blanket as I move closer. I stand in the hallway and suck in shallow breaths, trying to hear her on the other side. She’s not coughing, and I hope more than anything that she’s still breathing. Knowing I shouldn’t go in, but not giving two fucks, I crack open the door.
All the lights are off, and the curtains are drawn, making the room pitch black. I see the outline of her body in the bed and notice she’s lying on her side. For a second, I stop and listen, and can hear each time she struggles to inhale, but then coughs a few times. My head tells me I should leave, that I need to get out, but my heart protests. Instead of being cautious, I take several steps forward, then crawl into bed next to her. She rustles as I wrap my arm around her blazing hot skin. It might be dangerous, but I just want to comfort her. Forcing her to deal with this alone isn’t an option anymore. If she’s ever needed me, it’s now.
Chapter Twenty-One
CAMERON
I’m in and out of sleep. My throat burns, and my ribs hurt from coughing so much. I wish I could close my eyes and the next two weeks would pass by. Yesterday, I emailed my professors and told them I’m sick so they’re aware of why I’m behind on my assignments. It should be the least of my worries, but keeping a perfect GPA has been high on my priority list. It’s taken years of dedicated studying and late nights doing homework, but none of that matters when the world is in chaos.
This is only the beginning of feeling like shit. Ryan mentioned I’d feel worse before I got better. I’ve followed his instructions and have walked around some when I feel strong enough. Each time I get the strength to sit up, I check my temperature and track the doses of Tylenol I’ve taken, so I don’t take too much. My mother has called to check on me daily, but I downplay how I am so she won’t show up and try to take care of me.
I go from having the chills to my body being on fire several times a day. No matter what I do, I can’t get comfortable. I’ve soaked in the bath, hoping it’ll help with the stiffness and body aches, but it hasn’t. Though my appetite has vanished, I’ve forced myself to swallow down food.
Eli has done his best, giving me plenty to eat and drink throughout the day, so I don’t have to leave my room. I’m already going stir-crazy lying in bed, but I can’t hang out downstairs with him, which kills me. Though I can’t deny how much I miss Eli’s company, witty banter, and the way he makes me laugh at the stupidest things. The past two weeks with him, even though they started rocky, ended up being the most memorable moments I’ve shared with someone. It’s because he understands me on a level most don’t bother with.
Most guys want me because of who my family is, with hopes to climb the social ladder. That’s why I’ve dated those who are well off because they have nothing to gain from being with me, and they’re unimpressed by my fortunes.
Eli doesn’t give two shits about my social class and has always been his true self.
As I drift to sleep, I hear a light tap on the door and pick up my phone to see it’s a little after noon. I’m not in the mood to eat, but I tell myself I need to at least try. Minutes turn into hours, and I don’t move. Eventually, a muscular arm wraps around my stomach, waking me from a deep sleep. I press against him until I realize how close he is.
Turning my head, I panic when I see Eli snuggled against me. Every cell in my body is on high alert because he shouldn’t be in here. I try to find my words, but nothing comes. I need to tell him to get the hell out.