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Chapter 67

You and me got a whole lot of history

– One Direction, History

. . . .

When we finally get out of the shower, our entire bodies are pruned completely. The mirror is glazed over with dew and the air is extremely humid, making my throat clench up and my forehead prickle. Harry hands me a towel then proceeds to dry himself off.

"Ow, fuck." He holds the towel to his chest and rubs his temples.

"What's the matter?"

"My head is killing me."

"I'll get you some aspirin."

I open the cabinet and rummage past the countless bottles of hair gel, contact lens solution, and children's medicine. I finally find the white bottle off to the side and hand him a capsule along with a plastic cup of water.

"Thank you."

I slip on my clothes, and when I turn around to walk into the room, Harry's slipped under the covers with a damp washcloth draped over his eyes. I sit down beside him and drop the pill into his palm. I watch as he swallows down the pill and water.

For the rest of the day, Harry spends it in bed resting, still with the blistering headache. Meanwhile, I stay out in the living room or outside with Lilly to avoid his agitation and pain from getting worse. We had kicked a ball back and forth, then followed up with a short walk around the neighbourhood. As we did that, she told me a lot about her grandparents on Emma's side as well as her old friends and her local football team she played on.

We walk back home at around five o'clock, and when I open the bedroom door, the room's empty. The curtain is shut, the bed is untidy, and the bathroom door is open with Harry doubled over with his head in the toilet, spilling his lunch into the bowl. All that's clothing his clammy, sweaty body are his shorts and some socks.

"You're alright."

I'm unsure how to console him right now, so I kneel down beside him while running a washcloth under cold water in the sink. While he's still hurling whatever's left in his stomach into the toilet bowl, I rub the towel up and down his back. Little groans and whimpers push at his swollen lips. Having emptied everything he could, he flushes then, thankfully, shuts the lid without having me see the contents inside.

"When did it start?" I ask him.

He stands to his feet, prepares his toothbrush with toothpaste and water then brushes the acid taste out of his mouth. "I was sleeping then ran to the bathroom. It happened about ten minutes ago."

"What do you think it is?"

He spits the pale blue foam from his mouth and rinses off his toothbrush, then says, "I'm pretty sure it's food poisoning. I've been sweating a lot along with nausea and headache."

"What did you eat that gave you food poisoning?"

"Mum ordered some take away at this new place in town, and she got some fish. I'm assuming that's it because I haven't eaten much since then. Thankfully, Lilly doesn't like fish." He holds his stomach and crawls back into bed with his cold washcloth.

"I'll get you some water."

When I come back with a bottle filled to the rim with ice cubes and water, he holds out his arm, but when I hand his bottle to him, he shakes his head and says, "Lay with me."

After several seconds of laying with him, he speaks through the silence, "I can't be sick. I have my interview and our dinner with your family."

My heart sinks in relief, and I feel awful that we have to cancel the dinner because of Harry's food poisoning. Although, I'd rather be sitting at an awkward dinner with my family finding out about the age difference with Harry beside me and healthy than laying beside him while he has a raging headache and is just getting done being hunched over the toilet seat.

"Everything will be okay."

. . . .

Everything was not okay. Harry ran out of bed every five to ten, sometimes even twenty, minutes to run into the bathroom. I had gone on numerous trips to the kitchen to refill his water bottle, which I didn't mind.

I hate seeing Harry in such a vulnerable, miserable state—physically and mentally. It's truly heartbreaking having to sit there with nothing to do but watch the one you love in pain and there's next to nothing that you can do about it.

I had apologized numerous times about not being able to do anything and all he said was to rub his back. He likes it when I do that; he said it relaxes him.

Things finally calmed down at around ten-thirty at night and he's under the blankets with the AC kicked on full blast, yet he's still sweating tremendously. I, on the other hand, resorted to wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants.

The next day goes the same way and he continues the cycle of running back and forth to the toilet and the bed. Harry's stepdad, Robin, texted Harry that Anne, too, had gotten food poisoning. So, it's definitely the fish they ordered.

"Will you talk to me?" Harry kisses the back of my hand as I force the water bottle into his so he can hydrate.

"About what?"

"I don't know...What about your childhood?"

"Well, every year at the beginning of June starting at the age of, I believe, five my mum and dad always took me to the petting zoo. Afterward, they always took me to these beautiful fields. They were huge rolling hills looking out over miles upon miles of nothing but scenery. When it rained, it was beautiful. When the sky was blue with no clouds in the sky, it was absolutely gorgeous. It was mine and my mum's favorite place in the entire world. It's one of the last outings we did together before she and my dad broke up.

Moments of silence pass of him sipping at his water and adjusting the position of his pillows until I finally speak up by asking, "What was your childhood like?"

"Well, it was always just me, Gem, mum, and my dad. I was born in '88. I was eight when I broke my arm when I fell off my bike, then later when I was eleven, I broke my leg by falling down the stairs at my school. I had a stuffed penguin that I took everywhere up until the age of twelve and until I moved out of my mum's it sat on my bedside table, and I never let anyone touch him."

"I did party a little bit when I was around your age. I never did drugs or anything, but I did drink here and there," he says. "During my first year of university, I just barely scraped by with B's and C's. I joined a journalism club with the school's newspaper, and in that class, I met Emma who was the Chief Editor. Between breaks, we would sneak off into the copy and supply room to fool around, and one time we got caught by our professor. She forced us to be in separate editing times, but a short time after that we started dating even though I swear she hated me for almost ruining her position, but I persisted with dates and flowers,"

"Of course, four years later we graduated and conceived Lilly. That's when our relationship wrecked, but I got a beautiful baby girl nine months later."

"But, fortunately for me, I met a gorgeous, smart, funny, wonderful girl six years later in my last period of the day on August 30th, 2017."

I grin at him like a child looks at a toy store and say, "You have the day we met memorized?"

"Of course I do. Besides, it's not that difficult to remember since it's the day school started."

"So," I begin, "About this penguin..."

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh. It's not like you've never had a favorite stuffed animal."

"I didn't need them; I had real friends."

He sarcastically laughs and playfully squeezes me tightly in his arms. "Keyword, my love, had. Now you have me to deal with."

"Highlight of my life."

"I'm sure it is.

. . . .

Hope you liked the chapter!

— Re-uploaded on March 2, 2021