Page 99 of Fly with Me

He whined a little. While she knew intellectually that the whine was about wanting a walk and not an expression of canine judgment, she still shoved her phone into her pocket.

“What? You don’t think I can just be cool about this whole thing? You don’t think I can just be totally nonchalant about the fact that I’m probably not going to see Stella for at least twelve and a half days?”

Gus didn’t deign to respond, but he did give a small head shake in the direction of his leash.

Olive rubbed at her temples. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Chapter 35

“Olive, are you okay? I’ve been calling.” Stella’s voice was slightly panicked. “I haven’t heard from you since you said you picked up extra shifts after Thanksgiving.”

“I’m dead.” Olive rolled over on the couch and clutched her blanket to her chest, wincing as she crushed her tissue box beneath her. She should move. But that would require energy.

“That seems unlikely given that you’re talking. But I’ve been worried. Really worried.”

“I have pneumonia.”

“You have what?”

“I’m on antibiotics. I should still be”—a coughing fit erupted, one of the ones she hadn’t been able to stop for the last week—“able to go to the thing tomorrow. I think. I’ve been on the antibiotics for more than twenty-four hours, so I’m not contagious.”

“I’m coming over.”

“No, I’m gross. You don’t have to—”

“Text me what your essentials are and what you need, and I’ll stop by the store.”

“Derek brought me some stuff yesterday. I think I just need more stuff.”

“You sound delirious.”

“I took some cough medicine. It’s the good shit.” Olive leaned back enough to turn up the humidifier.

“Text me if you can. Otherwise, I’ll be there in an hour.”

Olive’s voice spluttered out between coughs. “I’ll be here.”

Stella chuckled. “I know you will. Get some rest.”

After an impossible-to-determine period of time, a knock woke Olive. She pulled her blanket over her head like a Jedi cloak and stood.

Nope. She fell. Horizontal again.

Shoot.

One more try.

All right. Vertical. This is what vertical feels like on codeine.

Like floating. But also, weird and detached. Like a balloon head. That was a thing in a commercial, right?

Olive laughed, which, of course, turned into more coughing, which hurt.

A lot.

“Olive, are you okay in there?”

“No, just floating.” She tightened the Jedi shawl around her and headed to the door. “I’m fine,” she said while simultaneously hacking into her elbow.

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