Page 97 of Secret Puck
We spend the late afternoon and evening watching TV. Just when I think things are taking a turn for the better, one of us gets sick again. We reek. The whole apartment probably does, but I’ve lost the ability to smell it.
Ginny continues to text, but I don’t respond. Nobody needs to be around this. I miss her though. Weird to admit to myself how much I’ve gotten used to having her around. That even though I’m freaked about her loving me, I still want her.
I’ve had girls that I hung out with, not exactly friends but ones that were part of my circle of friends, and girls I’ve hooked up with for a month or two, but I’ve never had one that ticks both those boxes. I’m delirious enough I think about calling her and telling her that, but something tells me I’d fumble up the message.Thanks for letting me do you, and also for being cool enough I want to be with you even when we’re not naked. Let’s keep things like they are. Cool?
Shakespeare, I am not.
As I lie there, alternating sweating and then shivering, I think about her and what I’m going to say when she tells me she loves me. That’s what she wants to talk to me about, right? Is she expecting me to say it back? And if I don’t, what does it really change? Nothing? Everything?
My mom was quick to tell me she loved me, still is. And, yeah, I believe she means it, and even meant it then when she barely knew what day of the week it was, but it always felt like the wordsI love youcame as a substitute forI’m going to do right by you.
Things with Ginny are amazing, and I don’t want this pure and good thing we have to become an excuse to hurt one another when we could do better.
Fuck, I don’t even know if I’m making sense. My head is fuzzy and my stomach aches.
I wake up sometime later that night, stuck to the recliner. Mav must have thrown a blanket over me and gone to bed because he’s not here and I’m tucked in like a child.
The next forty-eight hours is much the same. I wake up Thursday morning finally feeling like I might be able to get up, but my entire body hurts. I’m laying here staring up at the ceiling when I notice Ginny on the couch.
“You’re alive.”
“Barely.”
She sits up. “I tried to text a few times to check on you.”
“My phone died. I wasn’t in much shape to talk anyway.”
“Do you want me to stay with you? I brought some more soup and Jell-O. It’s in the kitchen.” She jabs a thumb in that direction. “Do you want some?”
“You didn’t need to do that. I’m fine. I just want to lie here for a minute before I go to practice.”
“You’re going to practice? Can’t you take another day off?”
“Could, but I’ve played in worse shape. I’ll be fine.” We’ve got Vermont this weekend and I don’t want to miss it.
She smiles and it hits me in the gut. Either that or I’m gonna be sick again.
“Okay, well, I’m going back to my dorm before class. Call me later?”
She looks uncertain and I hate that. Hate it but can’t seem to bring myself to reassure her. I also don’t want to get much closer in case I’m still contagious.
“Yeah, of course, I’ll call you later tonight. I have a feeling after practice I’m going to need a nap.”
“Okay.” She steps back and gives me one of those sweet, Ginny smiles. “Feel better.”
35
Ginny
December
I’m sittingat the bar at The Hideout waiting for my friends and brother. Reagan’s the first to show.
“Hey.” I stand to hug her. “Where’s Dakota?”
“She wasn’t done studying for her biology test. She said to tell you she was sorry and that she’d make it up to you.”
“Well, boo. I was hoping she’d come. Adam’s running late and the rest of the guys didn’t feel like going out. It feels like everyone is bailing.” Monday night was a bust after Maverick and Heath got sick, but I was hoping tonight we could all finally hang out.
