Page 63 of See Me

Tuesday promptly sits on her pillow next to her head.Meow.

I chew my nail and take in her sickly appearance. “Yes, I see. Good girl.”

I close my hands into fists to test how cold they are. I inch closer to the bed and bend over to gently touch the back of my hand to Ella’s forehead. She’s burning up. Sweat pastes her thin tank top and shorts to her body as it shakes uncontrollably from the fever and chills.

She’s ill, don’t look at her boobs.

She made them jiggle, it’s not my fault.

And that was a full-on debate… with myself.Super

I wish Gram was still here. She always knew what to do when we were sick. Chicken noodle soup, ginger ale, andThe Price is Right. I’m not sure if that’s enough, but it’s a start.

I turn to see Tuesday curled up against Ella’s back. I reach out and shake her shoulder. She flips over and buries her hands under her face. She may look angelic, but I’m not fooled. She’s scary and I’m not waking her up until I have some antidote readily available to explain my presence in her bedroom. “You stay here. I’m gonna go on a quick shopping trip.”

I should probably tell Enzo we won’t be in today.

Me:

Hey, the place is all yours today. Ella and I won’t be in.

Enzo:

I’m going to need some proof of life. I haven’t seen her in days and the last time you two were together it got ugly.

How do I know you don’t have her tied up in some dark basement somewhere?

You have no idea what happened the last time we saw each other.

Me:

Shut up, dickhead. She’s sick.

Enzo:

What does that have to do with you?

Me:

I’m taking care of her.

Enzo:

Taking care of her like the Russian Mafia would “take care” of her, or…

Me:

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Enzo:

My therapist doesn’t have a solid diagnosis yet but rest assured whatever is wrong with me is also wrong with you.

OR maybe it’s the fact that she hates your guts and would never, in this realm, or Narnia, let you take care of her.

Me:

You’re a fucking idiot. Just keep the placeopen.

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