Page 79 of Holiday Hire

"And you had fun?"

"Yes, I did."

"That's good," he says, and for a brief moment, I'm reminded of the Lance I first met.

"What have you?—"

"Lance," a woman's voice shouts just as loud music fills the line.

He quickly states in a normal, everyday voice, "Okay, Phoebe, got to go. Just wanted to check in."

"You miss me so much that you only called me to talk until your party started?" I accuse.

He groans. "And there you go being dramatic again. Talk later. Bye." He hangs up.

I stare at the phone and then pace around the room, trying to calm myself. But I can't. I put my hand on the doorknob, then stop.

I'm too angry to leave the room. I have to cool off first. So I go sit on my bed and attempt the techniques my instructor taught me in meditation class.

After a minute, it's not working. So I reposition myself on the bed and then close my eyes, breathing deeply. Before I know it, I fall asleep.

When I open my eyes, the alarm clock's illuminated numbers shine at me, telling me it's 5:00 A.M.

I sit up quickly. I've left Alexander all night on his own while Ace is sick. I leave my room to go check on him, but I hear a groaning in Alexander's room. I cautiously step inside, calling out, "Alexander?"

The light in the bathroom's on. A retching sound fills the air.

I hurry toward the doorway and freeze at the entrance.

Alexander's face is over the toilet. He gets sick, then leans back against the wall. He wipes his mouth.

I rush over to him and crouch down. "Oh my gosh! You're sick."

His bloodshot eyes stare into mine. He weakly declares, "I'll be fine."

I put my hand on his forehead. "You're burning up."

"I'll be fine," he insists.

I turn on the shower. "Get in the shower. Try to cool off." I leave the bathroom to go find the thermometer. Then I go back to the bedroom and stop at the doorway.

The outline of his backside is just barely visible through the frosted glass.

My heart beats harder.

He leans against the wall with his forearms, his head pressing against them.

Stop staring!

I call out, "I have the thermometer. I'll be back when you're done with your shower."

He doesn't reply.

I check on Ace, but he seems fine, sleeping peacefully. I feel his forehead, and I'm pretty sure his fever's broken. The flush he had earlier is no longer on his cheeks.

Then I check on Wilder. He seems okay too.

I find a bottle of fever reducer, wait for ten minutes, then reenter Alexander's bedroom. He sits on the side of the mattress in his boxer shorts.

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