This Love ✔️

This Illness

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Monday rolls around and with it comes a runny nose, nausea, a cough and still no word from Bash even though I only sent him two texts but I have a feeling that even if I sent him a hundred texts he wouldn't respond to a single one.

The highlight of my weekend was laying in my bed all day every day creating a lake of snot in my bedroom, well I mean other than losing my virginity. I don't get sick often, which my Mom says is because of her family, but apparently I pissed my British ancestors off because my bedside table is now being used as a grave for used tissues. Either that or my immune system couldn't hold back the cold that I was sleeping in. Naked. Next to Bash. Really hot, perfectly shaped Bash.

Whereas I got my immune system from my Mom, I got my perservience from my Dad, you know being a Jefferson and all. And yes I am a descendent from the third U.S. President, Thomas Jefferson and because of that my Dad's family has a belief system that you have to work hard every day of your life to make your life mean something. As my whatever number of greats grandfather said, "I'm a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it."

I think because of my ancestry and the history that my single family made is one of the reasons why I love history so much, because in some way I was part of it.

But because of the blood that runs in my veins and something my great ancestor once said, I dragged my sick butt to school on Monday.

"You shouldn't be at school, you should be in your bed right now," comments Mary Jane when we meet up in front of my locker before first.

"Or the grave," mutters Ella as she looks at me with distaste.

"I have the greatest friends." I roll my eyes and catch my books before they can fall to the ground.

"Woah." Quinn comes up to us. "What happened to you?" She pokes my cheek curiously then makes a show of wiping her clean finger on my sleeve.

"I'll see you later D," mumbles Mary Jane. She casts Quinn a glare before heading for class, Ella following behind her after she gives her own apologetic smile to Quinn.

"What's up her arse?" Quinn leans against the locker next to mine with a scowl as her fire heated eyes follow my best friends down the hallway.

"What did you do this weekend?" I change the subject and close my locker door, stopping beside her on the wall of lockers.

She leans away from me with a disgusted face and says, "Can you breathe in the other direction?"

I roll my eyes but still turn my face away from her out of politeness. I am sick and all and I really shouldn't be getting to close to others.

"Are you still pissy?"

"Excuse me?" I look over at Quinn who's looking at me intently.

"All last week you seemed pissy about something. Are you still upset about whatever got your knickers in a bunch?"

I raise an eye brow and hold back a laugh. "Did you just say knickers?"

Her lips curve up a bit around her lip piercing. "Aw so you're not still mad, sweet."

"Well I'm glad you're concerned about me," I tease.

"I'm not," she says bluntly and walks off leaving me alone in the hallway.

...

English goes by as slow as it possibly can, I swear someone stopped the clock for a good ten minutes. Mary Jane still seemed upset about having to be in Quinn's presence and she seemed to be blaming that on me with her turned shoulder and sudden need to sit on the other side of the room. But I was too exhausted to care.

I don't know how it happened but I seem to be Quinn's only friend in this school and just because Mary Jane doesn't like her doesn't mean I will stop talking to her. If it really bothers her that much then she can work around her schedule to be my friend.

The bell for science rings and once again I'm too distracted by my own mucus to notice Lucas walk in. Or Mary Jane's cold behavior.

I spend most of the period with my head on the table distantly listening to Ms. Richets lecture. The other half I spend walking to side of the room to get tissues for the river that is my nose.

The bell rings again and I clumsily gather up my books and trudge to art. Quinn meets me at our table and I'm not sitting down for two seconds before Quinn says, "Get out."

I look up at her shocked since my head is lying on the cold surface of the table. "What?"

She points her manicured black nail to the door and orders again in a stronger voice, "Go home."

I look at her bewildered. Is she mad at me? Is she going to kill me?

She rolls her eyes and pushes her stool backwards, then practically yanks me out of my chair. She throws my bag at me and says, "Go home right now or I'll drag you there myself by your hair."

"Miss. Worchester," barks our art teacher. "Please be respectful in my cla-"

Before she can finish her sentence Quinn is pushing me out the door and saying, "Go home, eat some soup and don't come back until you feel better. And if I see your nerd ass her again with so much as a red nose I will give you something to really stay at home for."

"Thanks?" I say confused.

She smiles brightly and says, "You're welcome nerd."