Chris walked out side and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't know what to think. She'd be fine, he thought to himself. She has to be. He looked back at the house that the love of his life was laying down in. His nerves were shot and he was on the edge of crying.
He walked to his truck, still parked at the curb, and got in. He sat there in the driver's seat for a second, not sure where to go. His love was sick. He knew that for sure. But what should he do about it?
He put the car in drive and just drove. It was now mid-day, he wasn't going to go back to school, and he need something to help him think. He drove uptown, to the richer neighborhood. Driving past the huge houses and the green grasses of the golf courses always helped him to think about what really mattered in his life. Which, of course, was Chloe.
She's fine, she's fine. She's got to be. She's never been sick like this before. It had to just be the Flu or something normal like that. Maybe I should call her house, Chris thought. Just to check and see if anything's change. He reached in his pocket and dug out his phone. He opened his contacts and went straight to Chloe's. He closed his phone. She need her rest, he thought.
He decided to drive home and just practice lacrosse some more for the 200th time. Chloe loved it when Chris took a shot and scored. He drove down the solemn street of his residence. He parked in his backyard and shifted the gears into park. He stepped out of his car and closed the door. He reached into the bed of his truck and grabbed his stick and two balls. He tossed them over in front of the brick face of his home and walked over. He picked one ball up in his stick and tossed it against the wall.
The flew back and landed in his pocket. He did this fifty times, walked inside, grabbed and bottle of water to drink, and went back to wall-balling. He continued this cycle for three straight hours. By the time he realized how long he had been practicing, he was drenched in sweat and his mom was outside waiting for him to come in for dinner.
"Sweetie, is everything all right? You're attacking our house pretty hard." She walked down the steps of the porch the grass and walked over to her exasperated son. She placed her hand across the top of his back and rubbed his shoulder soothingly.
"I'm fine, I guess. Chloe's sick and it just scares the shit out of me to think that something might actually happen to her. If she was gone, I have no idea how I would go on."
"I'm sure she'll be alright, just calm down and go inside and rest. You can get up early and go and check up on her. She must have just came down with a head cold. Watch her be up and ready to go when you head t her house tomorrow. Just go in sweetie, please."
"Yes ma'am, you're probably right. Thanks," he said with a smile. He went inside, put his stick away, had a quick dinner, and showered off. The warm water almost melted away his stress and fear. Almost.
He got out and dried off. He slipped into a baggy pair of sweatpants and pulled on a stark-white tank. He fell into bed and pulled the covers on top of him. It felt weird not having her in his arms as he fell into the deep chasm of sleep. He had hoped that sleep would be a place where his subconscious would bring him wonderful dreams of his beautiful life with the love of his life.
He was plagued throughout the night with nightmares of losing Chloe Makenzi Rose.
