Sorority of Three: Freshman 101 Page 17

  No vomit.

  Please, no vomit.

  Luckily, I was able to wrap myself in my robe and walk back to my room without the nausea overpowering everything else. When I returned to my room, I found a large bottle of orange juice, a banana, and two large vitamin pills. A packet of homeopathic effervescent flu medicine sat on the desk beside them. Doctor Sunny was on the case.

  My hands shook as I clutched the bottle of orange juice, forcing myself to drain the entire bottle over the course of a few minutes. I took bites of banana in between sips. As I chewed, I knew it was pointless to hold out on hope for my date with Trevor. Reluctantly, I picked up the phone, biting down on my lip as I dialed his number.

  “Hey,” he said, sounding chipper, happy, content. That was all about to change. And that realization killed me.

  “Hey,” I croaked out.

  “Oh,” he responded. “You don’t sound too good. Everything okay?”

  “I think I’m sick.”

  “You think?” He sounded confused.

  “I—I’m definitely sick.”

  Silence.

  I knew he’d think I was making this up. That secretly, I had another date lined up with someone else. That I was just stringing him along all this time.

  “I’m so sorry, Trevor, I just…I don’t feel well. I have a fever and chills and my throat is killing me. I don’t want to get you sick.”

  He laughed. “I don’t care about that. I just—”

  “What?”

  “I just miss you. That’s all.”

  My heart broke in two.

  “I miss you too.” And I meant it. I did miss Trevor. Just hearing his voice again soothed me. Even through my anxiety and my sickness, I was soothed just by hearing the baritone of his gentle voice.

  “So…you’re just going to rest then?”

  “Yeah. I took a shower. And now I’m going to lay in bed all day. Sunny’s taking care of me.”

  “Well, what if…um…what if I took care of you? I mean, tonight, for a little while. Give Sunny a break and stuff. I can bring you some dinner and maybe some movies, medicine if you need it.”

  “But you could get sick.”

  “I told you, I don’t care.” His words were confident…and honestly, pretty damn hot. I looked and felt like death, and Trevor wasn’t afraid of that. He was willing to walk head-on into the germ-fest that was 206 Weston Hall.

  “Okay.” I nodded with a smile creeping onto my face for the first time that day. “On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “You pick up some of those surgical mask thingies. I don’t want you to get sick.”

  “Grace, seriously—”

  “Hey,” I interrupted, “that’s my condition. Take it or leave it.”

  “Okay, okay.” He laughed. “I’ll come by around four or five. That way you can get to bed early. But it still gives you time to nap before I get there. Sound good?”

  “Perfect.”

  Despite the burning of my throat, despite the pounding of my head, despite the ridiculous heat seeping through every fever-filled pore of my body, butterflies fluttered in my belly. Trevor was coming over. And we were going to have a kinda-sorta date. Despite my miserable body, I was chipper, and happy, and content. Just like Trevor was when he first picked up the phone.

  • • •

  “Do you seriously think that sweatshirt is going to protect you from my germs?”

  Sunny stood behind me, styling my hair, the neck of her sweatshirt pulled up over her nose.

  “Hey, I’ll risk it,” she said, her voice muffled from behind the thick cotton fabric. “I want you to look nice for him.”

  “Are you Team Trevor?” I asked with a laugh.

  “I’m Team whoever’s best for you. And a guy who’ll risk being sick to be with you, take care of you? That’s a gem. We already know he held your hair while you puked. Hold on to this one, Gracie Lou.”

  I loved when she called me that.

  Sunny had a way about her that was hard to explain. People thought she was annoyingly perfect sometimes, but the truth was, she was genuine. A genuine, kind, caring girl who took care of her sick best friends and dreamed of happily-ever-afters. She was awesome. And I was lucky to have her.

  “What about Ross?” I asked.

  She shrugged, rolling my hair into the heat of my curling iron. “I don’t dislike him or anything. I just…I really like Trevor. That’s all.”

  “I know.” I grabbed a tissue to wipe my nose. It was starting to drip. Lovely. “I like him too…a lot. What am I gonna do, Sun?”

  “You’re gonna hang out with Trevor, watch a movie, and enjoy yourself. Stop worrying, at least for tonight, okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Your hair looks pretty good. Let’s work on the makeup.”

  “Don’t overdo it, okay? I don’t want him thinking I primped for this. I’m supposed to be sick.” A sneeze ripped through my nose, burning my throat.

  “Bless you. And you are sick, dork. Believe me, I’m not a miracle worker. There’s only so much I can do to disguise you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” If my eyes didn’t sting so hard when I blinked, I would have narrowed them at Sunny, just to get my sarcastic point across.

  Sunny, still encased behind her protective sweatshirt, dusted powder over my nose and dabbed gloss on my puffy lips.

  “You don’t need blush,” she muttered, “the fever has that taken care of.”

  “Eyes?”

  “Yeah, they could use a little something to brighten them up.”

  “Thanks for doing this.” I placed my hand on her elbow, pursing my lips to keep myself from getting emotional. Whenever I was sick, I got weepy. It was just par for the course.

  “Of course. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. You know that.”

  “I do now,” I said with a laugh. Sunny’s cheeks puffed up and I knew she was smiling behind her protective gear. She applied eye shadow to my swollen lids.

  “Perfect.” She took a step back and carefully inspected my face. “Trevor won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

  “Ugh.” I groaned. “There’s no way he’s getting near me. I’m making him buy surgical masks.”

  “Are you kidding?” Sunny grimaced. “Gracie—”

  “What?” I asked in defiance. But I knew exactly what her tone was: disappointment. She knew I had my guard up, and even though she wanted me to bring it down, I was clutching it desperately. It was easy to blame germs, but the masks were more than that. They were my defense mechanism rearing its ugly head, just like I did with Ross in the restaurant. I was a self-saboteur and as much as I tried to deny it, Sunny knew me better.

  “The guy told you, he doesn’t care if you get him sick. Why would you put anything between you…like, on purpose?”

  “Because I’m afraid. Like really afraid. Sunny, I’ve hardly dated my entire life. And now I have these two great guys and I’m freaking the hell out. I don’t know what to do.” My voice screeched and I clutched my throat. God, that hurt.

  “Shh,” Sunny said, standing behind me, both of us looking at our reflection in the mirror above my desk. Her fingers smoothed my hair down to the tips. “I know, honey. But you said yourself, there are two great guys who like you. If you don’t give one of them a chance, you’ll regret it. You have to break your patterns or you’re not gonna be happy, ya know?”

  Tears filled my eyes and I clenched my teeth, willing the tears to dry up. Trevor would be here any minute and I didn’t want him to see me upset. I had enough weighing on my mind without him worrying about my mental stability.

  “I know. I’m trying.”

  Sunny kissed the top of my head and placed both her hands on my shoulders. “You look beautiful. I know you feel awful, but try to have a little fun when he gets here, okay?”

  “I will. Thanks again, for everything.”

  “Of course.”

  She grabbed her Diet Coke and walked to th
e door, giving me a wave as she turned to leave, her slippers clapping against the tile of our hallway. “Hey, Trevor,” she said loudly, obviously giving me a heads-up. I wiped my cheeks, sweeping the tiniest bit of moisture that sat just below my eyes.

  No more tears, Grace.

  Trevor’s fingers rapped lightly on the wood of my door. “Hey, Grace.”

  “Hey,” I said, forcing myself to stand. I held on to the back of the chair for support.

  “Oh man, you don’t look so good.” He blushed. “I mean, no…that’s not what I mean. I mean, you look sick. B-but still pretty,” he stammered.

  It was cute. I could feel my cheeks growing hotter than they already were.

  “I know what you mean, don’t worry.” I smiled. “Did you, um…did you get the masks?”

  “Oh crap,” he said, clenching his teeth. “I left them on my bed. Do you want me to go back to my dorm?”

  “No, it’s all right. Just…I don’t know, keep your distance…or something.”

  “I did remember to bring this,” he said, digging into the paper bag in his hands. “Soup from the deli down the block. It’s really good.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “It smells delicious.”

  And it did. The rich smell of the broth was heavy in the air, and I felt my belly respond with a small growl. I hadn’t eaten anything since Sunny’s banana that morning. I was hungry.

  Trevor passed me a small Styrofoam bowl, filled to the brim with chicken noodle soup, a plastic spoon peeking out from the container.

  “Here, sit,” he said, gesturing for me to get back in bed. “I also picked up some movies.”

  “Awesome.” I pulled the covers over my lap and dipped the spoon into the broth. “What’d ya get?”

  “Man of Steel, Iron Man 3, and Batman Returns.”

  Superheroes. My stomach fluttered and I glanced at the picture frame on my desk.

  “Oh.” He cleared his throat as he rocked back and forth from one foot to the other. “And um…The Notebook.”

  “You got The Notebook for me?”

  “Have you seen it?” he asked and I shook my head. “It’s supposed to be really good. My older sister told me…well, she told me girls like it.”

  “Thanks, Trev.”

  “So…should we watch it?”

  “Maybe later. How about Man of Steel?”

  “Really?” His lips curled into a smile.

  “You know how I feel about superheroes. The DVD player is on Marie’s desk.”

  “Got it,” he said, fishing the disc from his bag. “You’re always surprising me, Grace. Seriously. I thought for sure we’d be watching the tearjerker. I was bracing myself.”

  “Well, the night is young,” I joked, knowing I’d probably pass out within the hour.

  Trevor chuckled. “Sure it is.”

  “Um…Superman is hot,” I said a little later from beneath the covers, just as Superman and Lois Lane shared their first kiss.

  “That’s Henry Cavill. Haven’t you heard of him?”

  “Nope, but he has my full attention now.”

  Trevor laughed. “Is that your type?”

  I knew the question was harmless. And I knew Trevor wasn’t fishing for information; that wasn’t his style. Maybe I was all hopped up on chicken soup, maybe the fever was making me delirious, but at that moment I felt brave. I felt like I was unstoppable. Like Superman had given me some of his bravery.

  “No…I like tall guys with pretty eyes. The kind of guy who brings me soup when I feel like death.”

  Trevor smiled. And maybe it was just the fever talking, but it was the kindest, gentlest, sweetest smile I’d ever seen. And right then, I knew my decision. I wanted to be with the boy who brought me soup and movies and was willing to sit through the chick flick of the century just to be near me. The boy who gave me butterflies with the sweet tone of his voice. The boy who was willing to be sick for days, just to spend a few hours with me. He’d made the decision easy. And even though I truly didn’t want him to catch my sickness, I just had to kiss him. Right then, right there.

  I sat up, pushing the covers away, taking his hand in mine.

  “May I kiss you?” I asked, holding my hand over my mouth, trying to shield him from my airborne germs.

  “I’m supposed to ask you that.” Trevor’s cheeks turned red and his hand squeezed mine.

  “Germs,” I said with a shrug.

  “Oh. I think you already know my answer.” He raised both eyebrows as if to challenge me.

  And instead of backing down, instead of sabotaging myself, I inched closer to the lips of the boy I had chosen. My lips brushed his gently, and he placed his hand on the small of my back, supporting me. His other hand brushed my hair from my eyes. It was a simple kiss, an innocent kiss, but one that held so much meaning. The room started to spin and my hands gripped the mattress.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I—I’m a little woozy.”

  “Here.” Trevor gathered my pillows and stacked them against his lap. “Lay down.”

  “Okay.”

  My head sank into the pillow and Trevor stroked my hair, running his fingers through each strand. The room came back into focus and my pulsed slowed. Within minutes, I was so relaxed and in that in-between state of sleep where you were kind of awake, yet not really coherent. It was bliss. My head stopped pounding, my stomach stopped rolling, and all my nerves stood to attention at the sensations of Trevor’s fingers threading through my hair.

  “Grace,” Trevor said.

  “Hmm?” I managed to reply.

  “I like you.” He paused, for how long, I wasn’t sure. Could have been seconds or minutes considering my state of consciousness. “I really like you.”

  “Me too.” My words came out in a whisper.

  “It’s probably weird for me to ask you this right now. But I have to. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

  That was all it took to jolt me awake. Happiness coursed through my veins and butterflies swarmed my belly. I sat up, blinking my eyes repeatedly, staring at Trevor, a smile forming on my lips.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” he asked, reaching back to stroke my hair.

  “Yes.” I nodded decisively, knowing this was what I wanted, what my fluttering heart wanted, what the butterflies wanted.

  I wanted Trevor.

  No one else.

  “Cool.” Trevor attempted to sound casual, like it was no big deal, but I could feel the excitement radiating between us as he leaned in to place one more innocent kiss on my swollen lips.

  “Cool.”

  I returned my head to the pillows and Trevor continued to stroke my hair. The shaking of his hands slowed and eventually disappeared. I smiled in the realization that he’d probably been waiting to ask me that for hours, maybe even days. I drifted off to sleep.

  Yes, I was sick as a dog, but I was happy, I was content. And that was all because of a boy named Trevor. My boyfriend, Trevor.

  Chapter 23

  The Game of Chicken

  Sunny

  March, the first Friday

  For two years now, my mother had told me that I had an “unhealthy relationship with technology.” I’d always rolled my eyes at my hippy mother, believing that her anti-tech beliefs were rooted in the fact that she could barely operate a microwave—which we weren’t allowed to have—let alone a smartphone.

  Today, I was ready to admit my mother was absolutely right. I had an unhealthy obsession with my cell phone. When I wasn’t in class, my eyes were fixed on the screen—checking Facebook, reading texts from Sawyer and the girls, answering e-mails, and updating my Instagram photos. On the way back to the dorm after classes today, I took a picture of a flower in bloom, completely shocked at the first signs of spring.

  Sawyer and I were engaged in a game of “chicken” over our relationship statuses on social media. According to Facebook, we were both “Single” even though we both knew we were “In a Relationship.” I wanted him to change it fi
rst, and was kind of waiting to see if that would happen.

  Claudia said I was being ridiculous and that guys needed to have change slapped in their faces before they’d do anything about it. But I disagreed. Sawyer was different. If he wanted me as his girlfriend, he’d make it happen. He’d tell the world. And I was willing to wait that out.

  My obsession with my cell phone backfired in a way I hadn’t expected. And it all started when I was walking home today. I was so involved with my latest text message from Sawyer, that I smacked right into someone else who was walking down the sidewalk of the quad…someone I just happened to know.

  “Oh shit, sorry,” a voice said, and I looked up to see the beautiful Danny Waterson. He looked as good as ever. “Sunny Mac?”

  “Hey, Danny.”

  “Hey.” He looked me up and down in a way he hadn’t before. Did I look different? “Why haven’t you called me? I thought we were going to go out sometime.”

  This was a surprise to me. Based on our previous meeting in the computer lab, I had no idea that Danny had hoped to spend any time with me whatsoever.

  “Things have been crazy. But you know, the phone works both ways,” I said, flirting back with him.

  It was always fun to flirt with Danny; I was finally no longer tempted to see the flirtation develop into anything else. I had Sawyer now, and as great as Danny looked, it just didn’t matter to me. His eyes were sparkling, his hair was shining, and I couldn’t have cared less. I marveled at this change in my emotions.

  “Where do you live again?” he asked.

  “Weston Hall.”

  “Oh yeah. I’m gonna come by, I promise.”

  “Okay, sounds good.”

  “So, what’s new?”

  “Um…” I glanced around, not at all sure what to discuss with Danny. “Nothing much. Second semester is kicking my butt a little.”

  “Nah, you’re smart. Always were. You’ll be fine,” he said, and then he smiled. His features were chiseled and as handsome as ever.

  But I didn’t care. Like, at all.

  “Thanks. Well, sorry for walking into you like that. I’d better go. Meeting my friends for dinner.”

  “See ya.” For some reason, Danny looked disappointed that I was leaving our conversation so soon. His brow creased and he shrugged his shoulders.