I sighed and leaned forward, resting my elbow on the counter, tilting my head into my hand, and pressing my palm into the side of my face. I knocked my other fist into the top of the counter lightly a few times. The sound reminded me of a beat Mike used to play on his drums; I grimaced and flattened out my hand. My fingers mindlessly bounced up and down—I was finding it impossible to be still.

“You literally look like you’re dying of boredom,” someone chuckled. My eyes lazily looked up to discover the source of the voice I didn’t know, and I huffed in response as a way of agreement. I stood up out of my hunched position and ran my fingers through my hair. Not forgetting my manners (and job responsibilities), I spoke to the bouncy, spiky-haired, sparkling-eyed, lopsided-smiling guy: “Can I help you find anything?” I asked.

“Nah, just shoppin’,” he shrugged his shoulders. I gave him a thumbs up and sighed, leaning against the counter again. Instead of making beats with my hands, I toyed my lanyard nametag in between my fingers, suddenly interested in the way the two plastic slides on the lamination met. I picked at the sides, stopping when I realized I was going to end up pulling the nametag apart. Slightly frustrated and even more bored, I sat up again, dropping the nametag, the plastic bouncing off my chest once.

I was working alone today. Tony offered to take my shift, but I denied. I had to get back to working eventually, and Tony has covered enough for me. He needed a break; I, on the other hand, needed a distraction.

Bree died two weeks ago. I didn't think I’d get over it any time soon—the events constantly replayed in my head when I was asleep—but I wasn’t in complete mourning anymore. The first few days were hard—when a huge part of your life is ripped from your soul, it takes its toll. But Alyssa held my hand, like she said she would, and helped me get through the worst of it. Now, I was left with the sad, lingering thoughts of how things could be different. Granted, a lot of things could be different, but none of them were changeable. I had to deal with it, and, so far, I was dealing with it reasonably well. I relapsed two weeks ago, but I haven’t hurt myself once. Taking a blade to my wrist would be the equivalent of me personally taking a blade to Alyssa’s wrist, and the thought of doing that to her sickened me to my core.

So, here I was, boring myself to a figurative death in the local Vans store, nobody really coming or going because most of the people who shopped here were still in school—including Alyssa, who I wished didn’t have to go to that hell of a school anyway. Tony and I tried to talk her into independent study, but she was afraid that would make her look cowardly, which I guess I understood. We just didn’t want to stand by and watch the people that surrounded her destroy her—although, she was doing pretty well, right now, too. Alyssa was strong. And Alyssa being strong made me strong, too.

“Hey?” I shook my head out of my thoughts and gazed back at the same energetic and too-happy-for-his-own-good guy.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Can you ring me up?” he laughed, holding up a pile of course.

“Oh, of course,” I shook my head with a polite smile. “You were on a mission,” I said, holding up the pile of clothes that he had gathered in a short amount of time.

“Yeah, I just needed to get a few basic clothes for my buddy,” he said. “I’m sick of him wearing mine,” he mumbled as an afterthought. I laughed shortly.

“Oh, he can’t shop himself?” I asked mindlessly as I scanned each item and folded them before placing them into a bag.

“He’s not good in public yet,” he shrugged his shoulders.

I couldn’t contain my curiosity. “Yet? What are you, Frankenstein?” I asked. He let out a hearty laugh, obviously not offended by my remark.

“I guess you could call me that,” he said. I looked at him funny but the light in his eyes told me he wasn’t any harm.

“Alright, well that’ll be two-thirty-two,” I laughed.

“Sure,” he mumbled, taking out his wallet. He handed me a Visa and I quickly swiped it, printed out his recipe, and handed it to him along with a pin. He signed it messily and slid it back over to me.

“Thank you,” I said, picking it up and handing him his copy. “Have a good day,” I said routinely.

“Yeah, you too…” his eyes narrowed and his head leaned forward, his neck extending. Then, his eyes widened and he tilted his head to the side. I followed his stare to my chest, and I immediately clasped my hand over my nametag out of instinct.

“Uh?”

“Vic Fuentes,” he said. “Hm.”

“The one and only,” I muttered, and then I raised my eyebrow, looking at him questioningly.

“Oh, shit, sorry, dude,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and bounced back and forth from his toes to his heels.

“That’s alright…” I mocked him and squinted down at his recipe. “Jamie,” I said.

He laughed. “It’s actually Jaime. Pronounced Hi-Me,” he said proudly.

“Oh,” I said simply. “Well, have a good day Jamie—er, Jaime,” I said.

“Yeah, thanks. You too Vic,” he waved and darted off in the opposite direction.

“Jaime!” I called.

“What?” he turned around sharply, looking on edge, as if he had to go somewhere important, like he had news to share that couldn’t wait to be told.

“You forgot something?” I grabbed the handles of his bag and lifted it up, raising my eyebrow at him again. He face-palmed.

“Right,” he breathed, walking back swiftly. “Thanks a lot,” he grinned, taking the bag.

“Don’t sweat it,” I said slowly. He shot me a toothy grin and turned around quickly, disappearing without another trace. I sighed and shook my head at the strange yet somehow entertaining encounter—eh, at least I wasn’t too bored anymore.

The next person working the counter walked in, indicating my shift was nearly over. He gave me a friendly nod, but that was it. As he went to the back to do whatever he needed to do, my phone rang. I technically wasn’t supposed to be on the phone during my shift, but it was the end and our boss wasn’t in, so I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed it from under the counter. It was Alyssa.

“Lissy?” I answered the phone, confused because it was only one in the afternoon. School wasn’t over until three.

“Hey, are you busy?” she asked.

“I’m at work. Shouldn’t you be in class?” I asked.

“It’s my free period,” she said.

“Oh, okay. Is everything okay, Lissy?” I asked.

“Yeah… I’m not feeling well,” she mumbled.

“Should I come get you?” I asked worriedly, wondering exactly how she meant that.

“Could you?” she asked hopefully. Before she even asked, I found that I was already making my way to my car—I had already grabbed my things and waved off to the next guy, who nodded again, not looking too bothered that I was leaving a little early.

“Of course, Alyssa. I’m on my way now,” I said calmly. Luckily the mall center the Vans store was located in was pretty close to her high school, and I got there in less than five minutes. She was already waiting at her usual spot and reached the passenger door before I even got a chance to unlock it.

“Hey,” I said softly when she climbed in. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I murmured, unbuckling myself so I could turn and face her. I reached out to her face and stroked her cheek.

“You do feel warm,” I mumbled.

“I feel freezing,” she countered.

“You’re definitely sick,” I determined. “C’mon, let’s take you home,” I said gently, restarting the car. I saw her shiver from my peripheral. I reached across the console for her hand and held it in mine, rubbing my thumb across her skin to warm her up a little. She attempted to weakly smile, but then grimaced as another shiver overtook her body.

“Your house, or my apartment?” I asked. She furrowed her eyebrows.

“My house. I don’t want to infect yours,” she said. I nodded and continued to drive. When we got there, I parked the car at the curb and rushed to her side, opening the door for her and kneeling by her sitting form when she didn’t get out right away. Her face had paled and her body was on fire yet also covered in chill bumps.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I whispered softly, reaching across to undo her seatbelt.

“My legs feel like jell-o. Carry me?” she asked quietly.

“Sure,” I said, brushing back her hair from her hot face before I gently picked her up, bridal style. She turned her head into my chest and had her arms clasped at her own, closing her eyes. I leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead before I closed the car door, locked it, and walked carefully inside.

I walked her up the stairs and laid her down in her bed, propping her up a little so she wasn’t completely horizontal.

“What can I get you?” I kneeled next to her again, continuing to brush her hair with my fingertips. Now that she was in a comfortable environment, she seemed to be getting sicker and sicker by the second.

She sighed, her breath ragged. “I caught a damn bug,” she muttered. “I hate those.”

I chuckled softly. “Yeah, they suck. Do you need a… a bucket or something… just in case you, y’know?”

“I don’t think I’m going to throw up,” she said.

“Okay. I’ll get you some Sprite, and do you have a thermometer? I want to take your temperature,” I said. She nodded.

“It’s in the cabinet directly to the right of the sink. You might have to look around for it, there’s a lot of shit in there,” she said quietly.

“Okay. Anything else you need?” I asked, standing up. She shook her head. “Alright, be right back,” I said, caressing the back of her head before I turned away.

I darted down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking for the thermometer, first. It was right where she said it was going to be, and I didn’t have to go on a mad search for it. I also grabbed a Sprite from the fridge and filled a plastic cup with ice-cubes to pour the Sprite into. Sprite—or any carbonated drink—was very good at settling stomachs. While I was down there I also snagged a rag, which I dampened with cool water. I walked back up the stairs and made a stop at one of the hallway closets, pulling out her favorite fuzzy blanket, and then I returned to her room. She smiled happily at me when I entered and closed the door behind me.

“Hey,” I said, walking to her side. “Open,” I ordered, and she opened her mouth while I turned the thermometer on before popping it into her mouth. She grinned and closed her mouth, looking around aimlessly as it recorded her temperature. While she did that, I poured the Sprite into the cup put it onto her bedside table.

The thermometer beeped after a few minutes, and I chuckled at Alyssa when she went cross-eyed to try and read what it said.

“Aw,” I frowned. “A hundred and two point three,” I said, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “You have a fever, my dear,” I informed her, and she grimaced.

“Joy,” she muttered.

“Hey, at least you don’t have to go to school,” I reminded her, and she nodded in agreement. I put the thermometer aside. “Here, let’s sit you up,” I murmured. I put a few comfortable pillows behind her and she scooted back to sit up more. It was always better to sit up than lay down when you were sick. She shivered a few times, and her limbs were tense. I pulled the covers out from under her—she had been sitting on top of her made bed—and pulled them up to her waist. Then, I grabbed the fuzzy blanket from the floor and draped it over her, and she smiled happily at it, pulling it up to her shoulders. “You’re Sprite is right here,” I motioned to the side table, “when you want to drink it. Make sure you stay hydrated,” I said, and she nodded. “And, I know you’re probably freezing, but I’m putting this on your forehead to help your fever,” I said, holding up the rag. She nodded, and I tenderly brushed back her hair, placing the folded towel at her hairline.

“Thanks, Vic,” she said.

“Of course,” I said warmly. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead before I turned away to the door, snickering to myself as I did so.

“What? You’re not staying?” she asked, sounding almost surprised. I chuckled.

“Kidding, darling,” I murmured. I walked back to her, but, before I reached her, I turned to turn her TV on. I popped in Finding Nemo, which was her favorite, and walked to the other side of her bed, sliding in next to her. I swung an arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently, letting her get comfortable against me.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said. “I have you, anyway,” she blushed. I rolled my eyes. “More importantly, though…” she paused, looking at me significantly. “…I have Finding Nemo,” she said, turning her head back to the TV screen, not able to hide a smirk.

“Gee, thanks,” I laughed, rolling my eyes again. She giggled, her eyes not leaving the screen. God forbid she missed the crucial opening scene. I smiled dumbly at her and quickly pecked her cheek. She sighed in content and snuggled closer to me, her eyes distracted at the movie.

I smiled at her again, my heart throbbing a little. Even though she was going to be fine in a day or two, I felt bad that she was sick. It just went to show that no matter what happened—like a death, Bree as an example—was a part of life that unfortunately we had no control over. Life went on—I still had to work, I still had to pay bills, I still had to care for my sick girlfriend—no matter if we were ready or not—and I definitely wasn’t ready. But, still, I would be here for Alyssa, because life made her sick so we had to deal with it.

I held her close, appreciating every little thing about her because she was the one who made me feel a little more ready each day to continue my brutal battle with life.

Notes

Guuuyyyyssss this has 102 subscribers and 60 votes! :') I've never gotten that many before and that makes my heart go KABOOM! Thank you to everyone who's subscribed <3
And 50 chapters yowza I've never gotten to that many chapters before, either. On microsoft word this is nearly 400 pages with reasonable spacing. holy guacamole

Thanks for everyone's support in this... Without you guys I wouldn't be writing up a storm over here! I'm trying to update a lot, and I've found a lot of free time lately, so... voila, another chapter. Hope you enjoy! It's kind of fillery, showing daily life and nothing too dramatic and Lissy-Vic fluffiness even though she’s sick he’s just being cute and sweet and ugh (oh and I couldn’t resist throwing in a random Jaime heehee yayy. he's just random, like, a.. what do you call those things?? a cameo. yeah, he was just a cameo), but something good happens next chapter (wink wink in the most literally sense), and something even better happens the chapter after that. But by "even better" I don't mean happy, necessarily. Or do I??????? idk.


okay bai

wait no

not bye

Can all 102 of you read jesslovesptv 's story A Flair For The Dramatic for me? It's really good so far and very different and deserves more reads, definitely! I think you'll like it :) Because I know I do. So do it.

Okay bye now