Page 15 of Fixation
Lights out.
“I’m up! I’m up!” Except I’m not really up.
I’m curled into a ball under the covers.
It’s light outside, unlike before. Gray light. Maybe dawn?
Did I sleep throughout the night?
“No, you passed out.”
Oh, crap. I’m talking to myself.
I’m shaking, and it’s bad enough that my muscles ache with the effort.
My NyQuil. I have to get it.
Everything goes black and I?—
“I’m up!” And I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.
The sun rises higher in the sky. A tiny bit. Maybe I haven’t been out for long this time.
“I should call someone. Get help,” I croak, talking to myself again.
The fire inside my eyes is relentless.
But the room is freezing.
Maybe Darla would know what to do?
“Friends forever,” I whisper the promise we gave and kept to each other.
She’d come in a heartbeat. And then what would she do? Give me NyQuil?
Would it help?
Don’t think so.
This is serious.
This flu is something else. I’ve never had it this bad.
I should call an ambulance. After my business took off, I got the best insurance plan available. I’m covered for everything.
Thanks to Dad. He’s the one who pushed to have an A-lister wear my jewelry in his latest film. That move launched my career. Turned me from a small business owner to a successful CEO. A young millionaire.
Ambulance. Right.
Ugh. Calling someone, anyone, feels more complicated than ordering an Uber.
My teeth click as I mutter, “The app’s icon is right there.” It hurts, talking to myself. “It’s right there. On the screen. Easy p-p-p-peasy.”
What the hell am I saying?
I need to get to the hospital.
The phone is too far, though.
