Page 58 of Class Clown

We were silent while he finished brushing and then started a braid at the base of my skull and worked it down until it stopped low on my back. Every time his fingers brushed my back a tingle would rush up to meetit. The energy around us was blazing by the time he finished. Never before had braiding felt like an intimate act. I’d had my hair braided by countless friends, and I’d done the same for them. But Nico’s strong hands, fumbling a little with inexperience, were a very different story.

How on earth was the silent and humorless Nico of my past standing here braiding my hair after playing nursemaid for days? I couldn’t say for sure that I knew him well yet, but I could acknowledge that Cole was right – he was our friend. My friend.

He laid the finished braid over my shoulder and I ran chilled fingertips over it. “Thank you. Seems like I have a lot to thank you for.”

He leaned over my shoulder to put the brush on the table. “You’d have done the same.”

As a nurse, yes, I would have. But Nico wasn’t a nurse, and he wasn’t my brother. He’d barely started to be my friend. It was not the same at all.

“I think I’ll head back to bed for a bit.” I stood up and his hand was immediately at my bare elbow. My eyes whooshed closed at the contact and I sucked in a short breath.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping so close I could feel the warmth of him along my side.

I swallowed. “I’m okay.”

I turned and he released me as I shuffled to my bed. I was grateful that he watched from where he’d stood at the table. I pushed my bed sheet curtain aside and crawled back into my nest. Man, this nest needed to be washed, but I batted the thought away and covered myself completely.

I flopped down in the chair behind my desk in the health center on Wednesday morning and wiped at my forehead. Thankfully my fever was gone and my cough and congestion were much better, but that did not mean I felt great. I was wrung out and ready for a nap, and all I’d done was shower, get ready, and get to work. But I was here. Something Kristy cheered about as soon as she walked in the room and saw me sitting there.

“You’re back!” she cried as she rushed in the doorway and to my side, her eyes bright and her pony tail swishing. “I missed you somuch. Cole said you were really sick.” She wrinkled her nose as she took me in. “You still look sick. Are you contagious?”

I smiled and sat up straight. “Not one hundred percent better, but functional and ready to get out of that cabin.”

She threw me a knowing grin. “Couldn’t have been all bad, with Nico as your nurse.”

I smiled back at her. “Yeah, that’s a skill a woman can really enjoy.”

She flushed slightly, picturing it in her mind, as we got to work making sure supplies were ready and the room had a nice thorough scrubbing. She’d done a pretty good job of keeping it clean, but my standards were high when it came to maintaining a germ-free environment.

About an hour into our morning there was a knock on the door and a counselor came in with a small boy, probably in the eight to nine age range. He was sobbing and holding his arm close to his chest in a way that made me wonder if he’d broken a bone and was cradling it.

“Hi, buddy,” I said warmly as I walked toward him. I crouched down to his level and looked him in the eye. “What’s your name?”

“Milo,” he answered on a whimper.

“What’s going on?” I asked gently.

“I’m going to dieeeee . . .” He looked at the floor and really wailed, his blond hair falling over his eyes.

I looked up at his counselor with big eyes and he shook his head. “I’m not sure what’s going on. He came to me during free time and told me he needed a doctor. Wouldn’t tell me why.”

I put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Milo, why don’t you come sit on my exam table so we can see what’s happening, okay?”

He sniffled, wiped his running nose with one hand, and followed me the few steps to the table, where he climbed up with no problem, using both of his arms for support. So, no arm issues. While he settled himself on the table I did a quick visual exam, and still couldn’t see anything going on. His clothing was clean, his skin looked clear, no head injuries were obvious.

“Is something hurting?” I asked.

“Not yet, but it will be,” he cried.

“What do you think will start hurting?”

“My brain, and probably my mouth,” he replied.

I once again looked to his counselor, noting that his name tag said Austin, and he shrugged. He was as stumped as I was, his browns drawnover blue eyes. A glance at Kristy showed me she was also confused, but really intrigued. Same, lady, same.

“Can you tell me more about what’s going on?” I asked, biting my lip in thought.

Milo nodded. “Last night I woke up and there was a big, fuzzy rat laying on me. I thought he was so cute that I started petting him. But he didn’t like to be petted, so he ran away and I was sad. But this morning I told the other kids that I petted a rat, and they said I’m going to die of rabies. And rabies starts by making your brain go bad, and then you get white stuff in your mouth and you go crazy, and you can’t think right.”

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