Page 89 of Fostering Chemistry
“No, I was wearing pants.”
“But your pants were rolled up from helping give the baby a bath.” Diego swore under his breath, and I looked up to see his guilt-stricken expression. Why? He hadn’t made the porch swing old and rusty.
Oh. But he was the reason I’d gotten upset and gone out there in the first place.
Then, there were just phrases floating in the air.
An infection… a shot… antibiotics… bedrest… elevate the leg…
Then I was in a car. How had I gotten here? Where had the clinic gone?
Diego had his hands on the wheel. “How are you doing? I have your medicine.”
“Thanks.” I leaned my head against the window but then sat up straighter. “Did the doctor say I have cellulite?” That seemed rude.
“Cellulitis,” Diego corrected, sounding a little amused. “A skin infection.”
Oh. That sounded less insulting.
“Mia, about that night we babysat—” The rest of his sentence was lost as I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, I was in my bed, the door to my room was open, and Aaron sat at my desk. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi. When did you get here?” I blinked blearily. “Wait, when did I get here?”
“Diego carried you in.”
Oh. That was weird. Except I’d been in his arms before. At the party. During the scavenger hunt. A new thought occurred. “I need to take the medicine.”
“You already did.” He gestured toward a glass of water and a prescription bottle on the desk.
“Oh.” I wondered what else I’d done while I was out of it. It was a bit much to hope I’d done my homework.
“How do you feel?”
I squinted, trying to take stock. “A little better?”
“Do you think you could eat something?”
“Maybe later.”
“Okay.” He got to his feet and brought over a pillow. Was he going to smother me? I was still a bit loopy, as someone had called me earlier. “You’re supposed to keep your leg propped up. We put you on the bed, but we didn’t feel comfortable…” He cleared his throat. “If you can move the covers, and lay flat, I’ll put pillows under your leg.”
I could do that. I tugged at them and then kicked them off with my good leg. Aaron leaned across the end of the bed, his face serious. He’d been on my bed once before. “Does it look gross?” I asked as he gently grasped my calf and lifted it.
“They cleaned and bandaged it at the health center.” He put a pillow lengthwise under my leg, and then another one under my ankle. “How does that feel?”
His hands on my bare skin felt good. But I didn’t tell him that because maybe that wasn’t what he meant.
Aaron arranged the covers back over me and sat down at the desk. One of his textbooks was next to him. “Okay if I stay for a while?”
“Sure.”
I closed my eyes.
But then I opened them again when the door across the hall opened. Raymond stepped out and did a double-take when he saw me. “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” I said sleepily.
