Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)
Page 83
“I’ve heard horror stories about that guy. Thank God we steered clear of him,” Melissa said before we parted ways. “Make sure you go back to bed after class,” she added sternly.
“Yes, Mom,” I teased, feeling slightly better now that I was moving around.
“Good girl, and if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll bring you some soup tonight.”
“From Mia’s Diner?” I asked hopefully.
“You’ll have to wait and see. Now go before you make both of us late,” she said, shooing me off.
Heeding her warning, I increased my pace, although my body wasn’t happy about it, but at least I reached biology with two minutes to spare. Five minutes later, I was wishing I’d just stayed in bed. To add insult to injury, I discovered that Professor Philips wouldn’t be teaching today when one of the research assistants who had previously covered her class came strolling in. The worst part was he had a heavy foreign accent that no one seemed to be able to understand. You could hear multiple grumbles throughout the room as he hooked up his laptop to the overhead screen at the front of the classroom. The best you could do was write down as much information as possible from his PowerPoint presentation and hope that Professor Philips would cover the topic again on another day. I did my best to keep up, but the minutes trickled by at an alarmingly slow rate as I imagined my warm bed back in my room.
“What a joke,” Stan, one of my friends, said as we walked out of the building together after class. “I know he’s speaking English, but I’ll be damned if I understood five words of what he said in there.”
“Tell me about it,” I said. “I got ‘Hello, class,’ but everything after that sounded like gibberish.”
“Do you want to go grab some coffee? I have an inordinate amount of time left before my next class.”
“Can’t. I think I’m fighting off some kind of bug. It was all I could do to drag my ass out of bed for this joke of a class.”
“That sucks. I hope you feel better,” he said, backing away before he could catch any of my germs.
I told him thanks, although I was tempted to lick his face or something, the big baby. The walk back to my dorm seemed endless as the last of my energy surplus melted away. By the time I stumbled back to my room, I didn’t even bother to remove my clothes. Before I succumbed to sleep, I sent Justin a text telling him I was sick and that I would call him later when I woke. He replied quickly, telling me to rest and drink plenty of fluids.
Later turned into the next morning as I woke up after nearly twenty hours of sleep. I felt marginally better and relieved that the queasy stomach that had been plaguing me for the last week or so seemed to have disappeared.
“Look who’s finally awake,” Melissa said, placing a hand on my forehead. “How do you feel?”
“A little better. My stomach isn’t as bad.” I checked my phone to see several text messages and missed calls from Justin.
“I already told him you weren’t feeling well and that you were crashing,” Melissa said when she saw my reaction to my phone.
“Thanks. I’ll call him in a few minutes. I need to get moving.”
Tuesdays and Thursdays were the two days that I worked at the daycare since I had no classes. Melissa tried to talk me into calling in sick so I wouldn’t expose the kids to my germs.
“How do you think I got those germs?” I pointed out, pulling on my last clean pair of pants, which happened to be another pair of yoga pants. I badly needed a trip to the laundry.
“I guess you’re right. Maybe that’s why you’ve been so sickly these last few weeks.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s days, not weeks,” I chastised, pulling on my boots. >“What did she say?”
“She said it was my decision to make.”
“She didn’t say it was too soon? That we were making a mistake?” I asked, admitting my own fears.
“I know you think it’s fast, but by summer you’ll feel differently,” he reassured me, patting my leg.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked. I already had butterflies filling my belly and it was months away.
“Because, after the last few weeks together, I know I want that all the time. I like having you with me.”
“What if you get sick of me? What if I get sick of you?”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge if it happens. Have you gotten sick of me these past few weeks?”
“Well, no, but that’s because we’re like in the honeymoon stage,” I answered, regretting my words instantly.
“Honeymoon? Who’s rushing things now?” he teased.