Page 30 of Alex
“Feellike it.” His face scrunches. “I stink.”
“Noworse than usual. Give the pills time to work and I’ll help you get cleanedup.”
“Youaren’t washing my cock, so stop thinking about it.” His smirk and smartassremark make me smile. He must be feeling a little better.
“I’lljust supervise. Don’t let my presence throw you off. It’s yours and you canwash it as fast as you want to.”
Thistime he laughs out loud.
Ian
Forthree days, my world consists of trying not to puke, smoking weed, and television.And Alex. He’s always right there with a cool cloth, a joint, or a drink ofwater. The fourth morning I finally wake without that churning feeling in mystomach. My throat is raw and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, but itlooks like the worst is over. I will never do that shit again.
Mythoughts go to that little boy I met at the clinic who has probably gonethrough months of this. I don’t know how they handle it. That first night, ifsomeone had offered to smother me with my pillow, I’d have gladly accepted.Right now, I actually feel hungry. Alex must be in his room, and I don’t wantto bother him. He has babysat me for days. Besides, all I want is some toastand I’m sure I can handle that.
“Hey,”Alex greets. “What are you doing?” He’s sitting at the kitchen table eating abowl of cereal. My stomach growls at the sight of it. Have I ever been thishungry?
“Makingsome toast.”
Hisadam’s apple bobs as he gulps down the remaining milk in the cereal bowl. “I’llmake it. Go rest.”
Hegives me a look as I open my mouth to argue. My knees shake worse the longerI’m standing and it strikes me how weak I am. “Thanks,” I murmur, and head tothe bathroom. By the time I piss, brush my teeth, and change into a cleanshirt, I’m dead on my feet. This is fucking ridiculous. I’ve been up fifteenminutes.
Abowl of oatmeal, two slices of toast and a banana are waiting for me on thecoffee table when I return. “Do you want to smoke first?” Alex asks.
“No,I don’t feel sick. I think it’s over.”
“Let’shope so.” He sits beside me and turns the T.V. to some morning talk show. Ihardly pay attention. All my focus is on eating without wolfing it down like Iwant to. Alex keeps glancing at me like I might explode into flames.
“I’mgood, don’t worry. I think I’ll play my game for a while. You don’t have tostay with me.”
Henods. “If you still feel okay by this afternoon, I might go out for a bit. Runa few errands.”
Ionly manage to play my video game for an hour or so before my eyes grow heavyagain. “I’m going to take a nap,” I tell Alex, heading to my bed. The couch isreally getting old.
Alexplaces my cell on my nightstand. “I’m going to go. Call me if you start gettingsick.”
“Okay.”The smell of my clean sheets and feel of the soft comforter make me want toburrow in and never come out.
“Imean it,” Alex warns.
“Iwill, but I swear, I feel better. Just really tired.” The door barely closesbehind him before I’m pulled into sleep.
Thering of my cell wakes me a few hours later. It’s my friend Cam, but I don’tfeel like talking to him. Instead I send a text.
-Downwith the flu. Call you in a few days.-
-Fluor Syphilis?-
-Fuckoff loser-
-Wrapit next time. Ttyl-
SinceI feel a little stronger, I make my way to the shower. Muscles I wasn’t evenaware existed scream in protest, but the hot water helps a bit. By the time Idry off and dress, I’m ready to fall into bed again, but the growl of mystomach points me toward the kitchen. Alex is bent over the oven, removing apan.
“Holyshit. You cooked?” I taunt. “Should I grab a fire extinguisher?”
“Iheated,” he corrects. “I stopped by Striking Back and of course Ms. Den hadmade too much pot roast.” A smile stretches across his face. It lights up hiseyes in a way I’ve never noticed before and for some reason it reminds me ofthe night he kissed me. It was just a quick joking kiss, but I haven’t beenable to forget about it, much less the hand job he gave me later. I’ve triednot to think about it, about why I let him touch me, and most of all, why Ienjoyed it.
