“A bit, but mostly just a bit cold.” He shrugged. “It’s okay, I’ll just take some paracetamol. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.” Then he sneezed twice and made a pathetic little whining sound. I sighed and shook my head, wondering if we still had any cold and flu tablets left over from the last time one of us had been ill.
Simon sneezed again, making a noise like a deflated squeaky toy.
Somehow, I didn’t think he’d be feeling better by tomorrow.
Part Four: Ice Cream
Simon
Everything hurt and I was dying.
Okay, maybe that was a touch over-dramatic, but it was how I felt. My whole body ached, including parts of me I couldn’t usually feel or didn’t usually notice, like my ears. I was bunged up and my head felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton wool, while my lungs protested every ten-minutes and made me sound like I was about to hack up my internal organs. Meanwhile, my body couldn’t seem to decide on a temperature. One minute I was dripping with sweat and boiling in my own skin, and the next I felt like I’d been forced into a freezer. And to top it all off, I felt like I was five seconds away from throwing up, so I couldn’t even indulge in my usual treatment for being ill—copious amounts of chocolate ice cream.
I sighed, sounding like an old squeaky toy, and sniffed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this poorly, and now I couldn’t even remember what it felt like not to feel ill.
I just wanted ice cream and cuddles and to not feel like my body was at war with itself.
Rolling over in bed, I reached for my phone, the low-screen lighting making my eyes ache. I’d been in bed for two days, alternating between sleeping and binge watching all the serial killer documentaries Netflix had to offer. It was nearly six on Monday evening and a tiny flame of happiness flared in my chest when I realised that Taylor would be home soon.
He’d been taking care of me ever since I’d come back from the gym on Saturday afternoon and complained about feeling ill. He’d forced me to take some cold and flu tablets while plying me with some toast before making me go to bed. I’d tried to insist I didn’t feel that bad, but it hadn’t worked. Mostly because I’d started coughing while trying to tell him I was fine, and then my nose had started running.
Taylor had just given me a firm look that had me climbing under the covers and doing what I was told.
He’d checked in on me on Sunday, bringing me small snacks and juice and more pills. Although I’d nearly died of laughter when he’d first appeared, wearing one of those paper face masks across his nose and mouth and armed with a bottle of hand-sanitizer. I’d started giggling and that was all it took for me to start coughing up my lungs. Taylor had given me a very unimpressed glare and thrust a bottle of cough medicine under my nose.
Still, it was so sweet of him to take such good care of me, but I couldn’t work out why he was doing it. I mean I knew we were friends and fuck buddies, but that didn’t mean he had to spend his weekend looking after me. And it was pretty clear he’d spent a good deal of time raiding Boots for medicine and then Tesco for snacks and drinks. Plus, he’d bought name brand medicines instead of just the generic stuff, even though there really wasn’t much difference except a huge price hike.
He’d never done this when I’d been ill before.
Last time, he’d bought me some cold and flu pills and made sure I was still alive every so often, but there was definitely a marked difference in treatment this time around.
A small part of me wondered whether it might mean something had changed, but I didn’t dare to hope that might be the case. Especially because my own feelings for Taylor were now so strong I was pretty sure you could see them from the International Space Station.
I’d known from the start that hooking up with him as friends was probably a bad idea, but I’d gone along with it anyway because I’d thought sex would be enough for my heart, and I’d be able to get a handle on my feelings. I’d tried to convince myself it wouldn’t be hard to bury all my emotions and pretend I didn’t have feelings for Taylor.
That had been a lie.
The biggest fucking lie I’d ever told.
It wasn’t easy at all. In fact, I hadn’t really tried. Because the truth was that I was in love with Taylor, and there was nothing I could do to change that.
I had no idea what I was doing or if I could even tell him. Something seemed to have changed between us in the past couple of months, but I had no idea what it was or what it meant. All I knew was that something was different. I just had to hope that it was a good thing.
A knock sounded at the door, and I rolled over in bed, trying to find the words to say come in, but all that came out was a funny squeaky noise followed by a sniff.
“Are you still alive?” Taylor’s blond head appeared around the door, lit by the hallway light. The curtains in my room were still pulled, turning it into my very own plague den.
“I think so,” I said, my voice raspy from disuse. I didn’t think I’d actually spoken all day.
“Good! I tried texting you at lunch, but you didn’t respond, and I figured you were probably asleep,” Taylor said, edging into my room and
