Love Songs

Chapter Thirteen

Jessica - Sunday, 12:00pm.

Allie and I both woke up sick. She woke up feverish and aching, throwing up twice before noon. I woke up still devoured by the secret I was keeping from her, with self-inflicted fingernail scrapes all over my abdomen. 

Of course, Allie's ailments were the ones that took precedence. I got her a bucket and stuffed her with water and acetaminophen; then she banished me from our room so I didn't get whatever she had, and seeing the logic in it I agreed.

"I feel bad," I told her, though I was already putting on shoes and picking up a book to head down to the common room with.

"Don't," she said, sounding stuffy. "Just take your phone in case I need you." 

"Are you sure?" I pressed before walking out. 

"Yeah," she said. "Go."

Shrugging, I decided it was okay to leave her. "Okay," I finally said. "Bye."

I ran into Matthew in the hallway, who was already showered and dressed while I was still in sweatpants with my hair tied up. 

"Where are you going?" I asked, considering he was approaching my direction.

"I was going to your room, to see what you guys were up to," he said. "But you beat me to it."

"Allie's sick," I explained. "I can't stay in there."

"So you left her?" 

"She told me to," I tried rationalizing. 

"She probably didn't mean it," he speculated, sympathetically.

"She did," I urged. "I've seen Allie sick plenty of times. She mostly just gets pissed off and wants to be alone."

"Should I check on her?"

"No, Really, it's fine. Go to the common room with me," I offered. "I have nowhere else to go."

Relenting, he changed directions. "Fine," he said. "Maybe you can help me with my homework."

"Homework?" I repeated. "What homework?" 

Entering, we sat down and he placed a book he'd been holding on the table. I hadn't noticed it until now.

"My theater instructor is making us read Shakespeare," he complained. "I don't get a word of it."

"What do you have to do?" I asked, picking up his book. 

"Highlight important passages or something," he said apathetically. "Which isn't easy when the book is in another language."

I smiled, leafing through the pages. "This isn't a book, it's a play," I corrected. "And it's actually a pretty good one."

"How do you know?" 

"I read part of it in school my freshman year," I explained. "It's cute." He was reading Shakespeare's Much Ado about Nothing. It was about romance, deception, and friendship. Mostly, or at least to me, it was about a couple that always argued, but that secretly loved each other deep down...but I didn't bring that part up. Not to Matthew.

"Good," he said. "Do you remember any quotes?"

I thought back, trying to recall anything that jumped out at me. Having a sudden epiphany, I pulled one out of my memory, not even realizing that I'd remembered it.

"Silence is but the perfectest herald of joy," I recited. "I were but little happy if I could say how much." 

"What?" he asked, shaking his head.

I flipped through the book fruitlessly for a few moments before finding the page and dog-earing it. "It's Claudio," I recalled, scanning the page, the literature coming back to me. "What he means is that he's so happy that he's speechless. And that if you were actually truly happy, you wouldn't be able to verbalize it well enough."

He narrowed his eyes, as if in thought, then reclined in front of me. 

"That's pretty deep," he evaluated. "What else do you have for me?" 

"I don't remember much else," I said. "But you should read it. It's good." I continued to look through it myself, remembering how I'd actually enjoyed it back then.

"What's good?" A voice said behind me, reaching two long arms around and taking the book from me. It was Shay's voice. I knew it too well to be surprised.

"Some stupid Shakespeare something," Matthew dismissed, clearly not brought to tears by my quote.

Shay sat down next to me, beginning to go through the pages like I had. "I read this," she recalled.

"In school?" Matthew asked.

She shook her head. "No," she said. "Just on my own."

He kind of gave her a strange look, because having only known Shay for a week, she didn't jump out at you as an avid recreational reader. Especially of Shakespeare. 

"Ew," Matthew said. "Why?"

"I guess I just liked the story back then. It gave me hope."

"What do you mean?"

She waved her hand, dismissing the idea. "I hear my sister kicked you out," she said, turning to me, changing the topic at record speed.

"I'm worried about her," I confided. "She told me to leave, but she was really sick."

"You know how she is," Shay shrugged. "She gets a cold and gets pissy for the rest of the week."

"True," I admitted.

"I'll check on her in a few," Matthew offered.

Shay smiled a knowing smile. "Wouldn't you like that, Matthew," she teased.

"Shut up," he admonished. "I'm just being helpful."

"Hey," she said. "What kind of help? That's my sister you're talking about," she protected, half-kidding.

"That's not what I meant!"

He was just giving Shay the kind of reaction she loved to get, so I really don't know why he continued like that.

"Sure," she said.

"Shay," he whined, taking his book back. "Can you find me something to highlight?"

She relented, looking over his shoulder as he flipped, defeatedly. 

"Find the scene where Benedick admits his love for Beatrice," she instructed. He searched for a while before she took the book from his hands and began to look herself.

"Here," she said after a while. "This is the best part."

"I do love nothing in the world so well as you," Matthew read out loud. "Is not that strange?" He looked back up at Shay. "What?"

"He's saying he never expected to love her," she decoded. "But now he does."

"Why did he change his mind?"

"Well, he really liked her all along. That's why he was such a jerk all the time. They made it seem like they were just fighting, but really, it was something else."

He rubbed his forehead. "I'll never get this."

Shay smiled sympathetically. "Matthew, go check on my sister," she said. "She mentioned wanting to see you."

"Really?" he asked, shutting the book immediately and trying, though failing, to hide his excitement.

"Yeah," she said. "I think she wants you to keep her company. If she tries to send you away, though, just tell her I said to stay. She needs someone to be there."

"Okay." he said, getting up to go, completely obsequious to her call, whether real or fabled.

He was gone in seconds.

"Did Allie really want to see him?"

Shay smiled, laying down on the couch opposite me.

"No."