Page 29 of Love and Other Chances

No. No, no, no. Brooks doesn’t need to be here right now. Not when my defenses are down. Not when I look like Death’s daughter.

I decide to ignore him and feign absence, but, next thing I know, my phone lights up and rings loudly with a phone call from him.So much for feigning absence.

Slowly rising to my feet, I smooth my hair down as best I can before opening the door a crack. Brooks is standing outside, arms laden with grocery bags.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. Whatever germs have taken up residence in my body apparently shut down my manners. I don’t even open the door fully.

“You’re sick,” Brooks responds, as though that’s enough of an explanation.

“Only a little. I told Joy I’d be fine,” I say.

“Yes, Joy said you told her that,” Brooks replies. “But you forget that I know you, Teegan. You’d never miss a game night unless you were at Death’s door.”

A chill runs through me. Brooks-induced or fever-induced? Jury’s out.

I’m still staring, which is likely unnerving, given the less-than-human state of my eyes.

Brooks raises his arms, holding up the grocery bags. “Let me take care of you, Teegan,” he says, voice quiet and eyes pleading.

“But I’m probably contagious. You’ll get sick too if you come in here,” I reason, even though that’s not therealreason I don’t want to let him in. I don’t trust the decision-making skills of my fever-addled brain under the influence of Brooks’ nearness.

“I’m a teacher. I have an immune system of steel,” Brooks says, voice firm and commanding. “I’m coming in, and I’m taking care of you.”

He pushes his way in the door, and I step back to let him enter. Which might be the beginning of the end for me.

“I didn’t know what your symptoms were, so I got pretty much every medicine and remedy I could think of at the store,” Brooks says, spreading the grocery bags out on the table. “What hurts?”

“What doesn’t hurt?” I quip back, trying to make light of the situation. Brooks gives me a scolding look. “My stomach is fine. But a hammer has taken up residence in my head, and every muscle in my body has joined a picket line. Moving hurts so much.”

Brooks puts the back of his hand to my forehead and swears under his breath. “Sorry, old habits die hard. Especially when I’m stressed. You’re burning up,” he says. “We need to get your fever down.”

He places his hands on my shoulders, and, despite his gentleness, the touch causes pinpricks of pain under my skin. I flinch, and he lightens his touch even more as he guides me back to the couch.

“I’m going to give you ibuprofen first to help with the muscle aches and fever. When’s the last time you ate something?” he asks.

I give an indiscriminate shrug.

“Food first. Or your stomach will join your muscles on the picket line,” he states. “Toast or potato soup?”

“Soup, please,” I answer as I sit down on the couch. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back on the cushion. I hear microwave beeps, and Brooks brings over a small bowl of soup, an electrolyte drink, and two pills. He takes the TV remote and sits down on the love seat perpendicular to the couch.

“You eat. I’ll find something to watch,” he commands. I can’t help the whisper of a smile that crosses my lips before I take a bite.

Brooks confidently navigates the television menus as I eat more of the potato soup. A minute later, he hits play onTrolls.

The spoon in my hand pauses midway to my mouth. I look over at him.

He meets my eyes. “What? You don’t like this movie anymore?”

I was secretly obsessed withTrollsin high school. Except, it wasn’t a secret from Brooks since we had no secrets. I identified with Poppy on a soul level. Her inclination to find the bright side of any circumstance. To turn any situation into an adventure. Her impossible-to-dampen spirit.

That is, until reality smacked her in the face and she temporarily lost her color. Relatable.

I pause for a beat to tamp down the swell in my chest before answering. “No, I still loveTrolls. But no one is supposed to know that a kid movie is my favorite.”

Brooks tilts his head, considering me. “Well, it’s only you and me here. So you don’t have to hide.”

My eyes drop from his. He clears his throat. “You should be okay to take the medicine now as long as you finish the soup.”

---