Page 78 of The Problem with Players

“No. I don’t get sick. I’m not a wimp like my brothers.” He walked over and sat on the other side of the couch from me. He glanced at the television. “Are you watching some crappy reality show?”

“There’s nothing crappy aboutThe Traitors. It’s fantastic.”

“All reality shows are crap,” he replied before once again clearing his throat. “I’m going to hop in the shower and head to bed.”

I arched an eyebrow. “It’s only seven.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Maybe because your body is shutting down because you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” he expressed as he pushed himself to a standing position. “Like I said, I don’t get sick.”

22

NATHAN

Igot sick.

One would’ve thought I was Easton when I woke up sick to my stomach in the middle of the night. The flu from hell had finally hit me, and I spent a good portion of my night throwing up my insides as I hugged the toilet seat. My whole body shook with chills as sweat dripped all over me. After only a few hours of sleep that morning, I woke up and found my way back to the bathroom to finish throwing up even more. The bathroom floor was ice cold, a stark contrast to the ravishing fever burning its way through my whole body.

Maybe Easton wasn’t being too dramatic. Whatever this bug had been, it was trying to take us out.

As I was expelling every single drop of dignity from my body, there was a knock on my bathroom door.

“Nathan? Are you all right?” Avery asked from outside the door.

I cleared my throat and grabbed the rag from the sink as I sat on the floor. I wiped it over my mouth. “Yeah, I’m fin?—”

Before I could finish, I started violently throwing up again.

The door to my bathroom slowly opened, and Avery’s softfootsteps echoed against the tile. I glanced up for a moment to see her standing there, fully dressed and ready to head over to the high school for her job. And there I sat. Like a pathetic toad on the bathroom floor.

A flood of embarrassment enveloped me as I stayed plastered to the toilet seat. I knew I wanted Avery to take notice of me more, but not like that. Not as my insides tried their damnedest to exit stage right. This was not how I wanted her to see me—broken down and vulnerable.

“Hey,” she whispered.

I tried my best to muster the energy to respond, but words seemed too much of a struggle to release. My mind spun as my fever grew, moistness soaking every inch of me. The only thing that I could release from my lips was a grunt.

Avery bent down beside me and placed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up,” she said before grabbing another towel from my closet. She ran it under cold water for a moment before she wrung it out and placed it against my forehead. I leaned back against the sink cabinet, exhausted. My knees bent, and I rested my arms against my kneecaps as I closed my eyes.

The coolness of the cloth made it a little easier to breathe. Avery patted it gently all over my face and neck. She smoothed it slightly over my exposed chest. My breaths were uneven as I kept my eyes closed. Every time I tried to open them, the room began to spin all around me, so shut eyes were better.

“I’m okay,” I muttered, hating that she saw me in the shape I’d been in.

“No. You’re not,” she replied as she gently placed her hand against my forehead again. The tenderness of her touch was a bit of a surprise to me. For the past few weeks, Avery had been very standoffish toward me. At that moment, it was as if her walls were coming down.

I leaned into her touch as her warmth seeped into me. “Youshould not be this close to me. I don’t want you to get sick. Plus, you should get to work and?—”

“Nathan.” She locked her eyes with mine, and her lips turned up slightly. “Let me take care of you.”

I didn’t know how much I wanted and needed to hear those words that morning. I wasn’t used to people taking care of me. I was normally the one dishing out the care. A part of me wanted to argue with her offer, but a bigger part of me wanted to curl into a ball and have her hold me and tell me I would be all right.

Easton might’ve been onto something.

“Let’s get you back to your bed,” she said. She wrapped an arm around my body and lifted me as if I were as light as a feather. Clearly, Avery had taken advantage of the weight lifting facility at the high school.

She led me to my bed and pulled back my comforter. I sat on the edge of the bed, still shivering from chills, as she lifted my legs up into the bed. She covered me up, tucking me in, and then told me she’d be right back.

---