Page 32 of Caught A Vibe

I put Rishi’s sister on speaker as I open her medicine cabinet and drawers, determined not to feel like a lech as I search through Penny’s personal bits and bobs for a thermometer. Her rigid organization pays off, and in the third drawer I find one that shoots a laser at the mirror when I push the trigger. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was going to vibrate in my hand or not. Who knows what a sex toy designer keeps in her drawers? Well, I mean besides me who has been snooping all morning. “Bingo.”

“Okay. Now, go take her temperature.”

I open the bathroom door into her room a crack and peek in. She is still sleeping. I tiptoe to the bed and kneel down next to her.

“Amrita, she’s so pale and her breath is rasping in her chest.” I aim the laser pointer thermometer at her forehead and the display flashes red. “It says 103.2. Is that bad?”

“It’s not good.”

“Dash? Is that you?” Penny’s voice creaks as she tries to speak.

“Yes, baby, I’m here. I’m just checking your temperature. It’s high. Do you think you can swallow some pills again?”

“I’ll try.”

She pulls herself up to sitting, but immediately curls over in a coughing fit.

“Here, let me help.” I put my hands under her arms to help lift her and her body is radiating heat. Like a lot. Like, warmer than I’ve ever felt a human be. She leans her head limply against her headboard as I run back into the bathroom for water and pills. Real terror that she might have the virus everyone is afraid of lodges in my chest. I hold her against my side while I help her take the medicine.

“Dash, everything hurts.”

“I know, baby. Finish the water, please,” I coax when I feel her flagging against me, and I curse this mask between us keeping me from kissing her forehead like I need to.

She is asleep before I close the door between us again.

“Dash?”

I realize Amrita is still on the phone, and I grip it like a lifeline. Horror stories I read online last night cycle through my head. People in the hospital. People dying. If this is Coronavirus, even I know enough to know this is bad.

I have never felt so helpless in my life. This amazing woman who was on top of the world a week ago is now teetering on the edge of leaving it, and that would be a tragedy. I can’t let that happen. I don’t realize there are tears on my cheeks until my voice cracks.

“Amrita, I’m so scared. She’s really hot. Like scary hot under her arms. And she keeps coughing. She’s barely eating or drinking at all, and everything hurts. I need to make it stop hurting. I need her to get well. What do I do? Tell me how to fix this. I just found her. I can’t lose her. I won’t.”

Penny

The next few days pass in a blur. I can’t think straight. I keep coughing like crazy, and my chest is on fire. All I want to do is sleep. But every few hours Dash wakes me up to eat something or drink something. He even helps me into and out of the bathroom. It’s annoying as fuck to feel this weak and dependent, but I’m glad he’s still here. I don’t know why he was at my door in the first place, but I figure that’s a conversation for a day when I can actually string coherent thoughts together.

On the third day my fever spikes even higher. I’m on fire one minute and then shaking with cold the next. The hallucinations are really trippy. At one point I am convinced I’m being mummified and someone is trying to extract my brain through my nose. I’m so weak, I don’t even fight it. Maybe it will relieve the throbbing in my skull.

On the seventh day, I open my eyes and the light doesn’t burn. My stomach is empty but so is my head. The crushing pressure is gone, and I am lucid for the first time in a week. I scan the bed for Callie, and it appears she has abandoned ship. I groan and haul myself out of bed, wincing at the stiffness in my joints before making my way to the shower.

I glance in the mirror and the pale, gaunt face looking back at me is startling. I look over my shoulder to see who is in the room with me before I realize I am still alone. This flu has certainly knocked me on my ass.

Hopefully a shower will help wash away some of my sickbed pallor. The warm water flowing over my body feels heavenly, and I want to stay in this steamy cocoon forever. I feel almost human again. But I don’t trust my legs to keep me vertical for much longer. Weakness hits as I try to climb over the side of the tub, and I stumble.

I hit my hip on the edge of the sink on my way down to the floor.

“Fuck! That hurt!”

The hallway door slams open, and there is Dash, seeing me in all my naked glory. His eyes fill with concern instead of lust, and it’s lowering to realize what he’s dealt with this week. Yes, he’s seen me naked before, but this hits different. Sex is the bodily function I amleastembarrassed about. Personal hygiene is a whole other level. I cover myself ineffectually with my arms, and he is quick to drop me a towel.

Bracing for a lecture, I sullenly wrap the terry cloth around my chest and try to stand up again. My lungs wheeze with the effort. How can I possibly be winded? I barely moved. When he tries to help, I know it’s petulant but I jerk my elbow away.

“I didn’t hear you get up. I was taking the garbage out. Can you walk back to your bed, or do you want me to carry you?” is all he says.

“I can walk,” I snap, a complicated cocktail of shame and embarrassment and confusion turning my tone acidic.

“Okay.” He follows half a step behind me, waiting to catch me if I fall again. “Do you want some clean clothes?”

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