Page 53 of Strange Lad

It’s true. Before Devon and Kelly joined the band, Michael’s brother was around a lot. He’d come to band practices and my family's parties. He tried to help Oli at one point because they both played football. Obviously, Morgan was Varsity, and Oli was not. But once we all left for college, Morgan kind of vanished. Then Kelly and Devon joined our band, and we only saw him occasionally.

Morgan has always been a little weird, though.

“Well, itwashis birthday, too,” I point out.

Devon curls his lip. “Doesn’t mean he had to come. He fucks up Michael’s whole mood, and thenIhave to deal with it.”

“I get it.”

Devon and Michael have always been pretty close. I think Devon feels responsible for him ever since our freshman year of college when Michael showed up one day with a black eye. Michael and Morgan’s dad is a piece of shit.I want to say that they're BFFs like Phoenix and me, but those two can go days without speaking.

“Won’t be the last time I put him on his ass,” he grumbles, then nods at the PC. “It uploaded.”

I squeak in delight, spinning to look. “It’s already got four views! Fuck yeah!”

“Now that you got your love song uploaded, do you think you can record the trackscorrectlythis time?” he asks dryly.

I twist my head over my shoulder and scowl. “That’s rude. I did it right.”

“It’s off. And Phoenix agrees.”

“Bitch.”

He raises his hands while shrugging. “He’s got an ear for it. Besides, Lex has been breathing down my neck. He’s bound to text you sooner or later.”

I huff, roll my eyes, and sag like a wet noodle in the chair. “Fine.”

“Up you go. We’ll start with Strange Lad.”

My throat hurts. My throatneverhurts. It’s my fucking superpower, but after I left the studio, it felt like I swallowed acid. Devon was a monster, making me redo parts over and over again like some demented drill sergeant. And now, I have a sore throat. I hope I’m not getting sick. Just as I pull up to my house, I cough. It’s a dry cough, but it has my hackles rising.

“No,” I whine, hearing the crack in my voice. “Mannn.”

I get out of my car, drag my feet up my walkway, and unlock my front door. When I get inside, another cough explodes out of my mouth. Yup. I’m sick. I’m deathly ill. I’ve got theillness.My mood tanks as I hurry to my bathroom in search of the ancient cough drops I have in there. I grab one, hating everything currently, and pop it in my mouth. Deciding to boil the germs out of me, I flip on the shower.

My abuela would always steam me and then lather me in Vicks. So, that’s what I’m going to do. I swear it’s been likefive yearssince I’ve been sick. Where the fuck did it come from? Who did this to me? I glare at my shower curtain, which saysLive Nudesin bright neon font, and it dawns on me. My cousins. The girls. Those germ-ridden stupid teenagers breathed their funk all over me, and now I’m going to die.

I am not the sort of person who handles this shit well. I’m a big, fat baby. I might cry. Hopping in the shower, I shut the curtain and suck the cough drop. Do I evenownany medicine? I’m sure this thing is expired as all hell, too.

Whimpering, I shower and stay there as long as possible to soak up the hot steam. When I’m out, my nose is dripping, and I feel shaky. I know I’m being overly dramatic, and this is most likely a normal cold, but regardless. The last time I was sick, I made Phoenix stay with me and take care of me. He was happy to do so even though he eventually caught it. Then I took care of him. It was gross for about two weeks. Snot, fevers, and funk.

Phoenix won’t be coming to take care of me now.

Feeling alone and sorry for myself, I go to my bedroom and find the warmest clothes I own. I get dressed, burrow into a thick hoodie, and hobble to my couch.

Should I text Oli? See what he’s up to? Last night was a lot for him. It was a lot for me, too. I honestly thought we’d make out or something, but I could tell he was freaking out. Pumping the brakes had been hard. I want to see where this goes with him so much, but I won’t rush it even though I really want to. I want to do naughty things to him.

Now, though, I’m disgusting. And the last thing I want to do is get him sick.

I’ve been busy with my band stuff today, which explains why he hasn’t reached out. He’s also had his therapy appointment earlier. Depending on how intense they get, Oli can sometimesbe closed off after them. I sniffle loudly, feeling thick snot roll down my throat and gag on it. Gross. Horrible.

Deciding to suck it up, I put in an order for all the drugs I might need and have them delivered. I’ll just be miserable for the next hour or so until it gets here. It’s not like I’m unable to drive, but I’m stubborn and would rather wallow in my illness on my couch. I stare longingly at my kitchen, knowing I have tea in there that would help a lot. Just as I’m lifting to go make some, my phone buzzes.

I glance down and see texts from Phoenix.

It worked.

I brought the guitar.

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