Page 105 of Daydream

“Henry, we don’t need to do that anymore. You’ve escaped Thornton and I haven’t written a word in weeks. Forget about it.”

“No, I want to give you an experience. Let’s go.”

Reading body language is not always my strong suit, but Halle’s practically writing this one on the wall for me to read. She’s tired. She’s achy. She low-key hates me for putting her in a situation where she has to admit defeat or do something she doesn’t want to do. Breathing out a heavy sigh, she surrenders. “Fine. Let me get ready.”

EVEN IFHALLE DIDN’T LOOKlike she should be painted intoThe Triumph of Death, I’d be able to tell she isn’t healthy based on one thing alone: she isn’t asking me where we’re going.

By the time we’re pulling up in front of my parents’ house, she’s asleep. Which is telling, considering it’s not that far from her house. I don’t like waking her up when she’s sick, but I’ve overthought every single possibility for the past three weeks. I’ve ended up fixated on every sniff and cough, trying to determine exactly the tone of the cough so I could match it to the chart I found online.

Watching her try to act like she was totally fine while she had some kind of stomach virus and threw up repeatedly was the weirdest experience of my life. I don’t understand why she won’t take care of herself properly. Nobody was going to die if she didn’t do the thing she’d said she’d do for them. Everyone would have understood, but it’s the most impossible task to her just to admit that she needs a break.

When I went to Halle’s work to deliver her more medicine, Cami said Halle’s scared if she stops doing all the things she normally doesit’ll make her mom fly out to try to look after her. Given her mom is still holding out for Halle Ellington, and I exist, more mom time isn’t something she wants right now.

“We’re here, sleepy girl,” I say, nudging her gently.

She frowns, looking around to work out where we are. Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands, she leans to look out of the window properly. “Are you making me join a sorority? I thought about it freshman year and decided it isn’t an experience I want. So can we go home now?”

“This isn’t a sorority house. Come on, let’s go inside.”

I don’t give her a chance to argue with me when I climb out of the car and head up the driveway. I hear the car door shut and her feet hitting the concrete. “Henry, wait up! Where are we?”

Using my keys, I open the door and usher her in. “My house.”

As soon as I step through the threshold, I can smell soup on the stove. I called my mama while Halle was getting ready and asked if she would just take a look at her to make me feel better. We argued about whether this constituted as bringing a girl home, and eventually settled that it doesn’t, because I’d never bring a girl home while Mom was at work.

Halle grabs my hand, stopping me from progressing farther into the house. “You brought me to meet yourmoms! I haven’t even brushed my hair today!”

“That’s not my fault; I did tell you to get ready. I thought it was supposed to look like a nest. It’s that thing. A messy doughnut.” The color is returning to her cheeks, even if it’s from anger. “And it’s only one mom. The other one is at work.”

“You’re seriously doing this to me?Seriously?”

I’m beginning to think I might have fucked up. “I just want her to take a look at you and promise me you’re not dying. Because even though logically I know you’re not, there’s a tiny little voice in my head that tells me that you might be. But you”—I lower my voice so it doesn’t echo through the house—“won’t. Get. Help.”

“This just gets worse. Okay, okay. I’ll do it for you. I’m sorry that you’ve been worrying about me.”

“Don’t do it for me, do it for you. Care about the fact you’re sick. That’s all I want.” Wrapping her hands around my waist, she buries her head in my chest. I hope her nose isn’t running. I kiss the crown of her head, and the nest tickles my nose. “I like this, but every day we get closer to your germy ass making me sick.”

“Are y’all coming to say hi or are you going to make a run for it?” Mama shouts from the kitchen.

“Your mom has a southern accent,” Halle says, looking up at me with big eyes.

“Do you not listen to me? I told you she’s from Texas.”

She laughs, closing her eyes as she shakes her head. “I know, but for some reason, I just expected her to sound like you, but, I don’t know, more feminine. It’s silly, I know.”

“My mom has a Boston accent because she’s from Boston. Just to clear up any confusion when you meet her.”

“Got it, smarty-pants. Okay, if she hates me, you have to convince her to give me a second chance because I’m not at my best,” Halle says, buttoning up her cardigan and straightening her dress. She unbuttons her cardigan again. “I don’t know what I’m doing; I’m too hot and flustered.”

“Come on. She’s going to love you,” I say, taking her hand.

Thankfully, Halle doesn’t make me drag her into the kitchen with me, but there’s definitely a hint of reluctance in her walk. I keep hold of her hand so she can’t run away, and as suspected, Mama is adding herbs to a soup pot next to her work laptop and a glass of wine.

“Hi, baby. Soup is almost done.” She looks up from the pot and straight past me to Halle. “Halle, it’s so nice to meet you, honey. I’m Maria.” She twists one of the knobs on the stove and takes off her apron, rounding the kitchen island quickly with her arms open. “Please don’t look so scared. Henry said you haven’t been feelin’ so good. Poor girl.”

Mama embraces Halle, but Halle doesn’t let go of the tight grip she has on my hand. Instead, uses her other hand to receive the hug, and seeing Halle so nervous makes me think maybe I should have just taken her to her doctor’s office instead. When Mama finally lets Halle go she takes my face between her hands and kisses me on the cheek. “Did you get taller?”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t see me last week?” I guide Halle to a seat at the island in front of the pot.

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