There was a light tap on the door as it eased open. I sat up tall, instantly aware of how heavy my head felt now that it wasn't resting on the wall behind me. I flattened my palms on the cold tile floor I was sitting on, ready to push myself up to my feet.
"Hey." Chase moved into the room and closed the door behind him. "Don't move."
"I'm okay," I tried to assure him, but I was sure that the messy bun holding my hair away from my pale face proved otherwise. I didn't fight him, though. I just slumped back into the corner where I had been sitting alone for the past ten minutes.
The second I slid Maggie's plate in front of her, I had excused myself, asking Chase to point out the bathroom once more. He nodded over his shoulder, mumbling something about the third door on the left after I turned right at the end of the hallway. When his eyes met mine, though, he hurried over to me and slipped his arm around my waist.
"Are you okay?" he had asked, "You look sick."
"Gee. Thanks." I tried to smile as I said this, hoping to take the attention off of how sick I probably did look. His eyes stayed on me as he eased me down the hallway, making that right turn he mentioned something about. I knew he was worried, especially when he hesitated in front of the door as I closed it slowly in front of him.
In the bathroom, I quickly yanked the hair tie from my wrist, twisting my hair into a giant bun on the top of my head. I moved to sit on the floor beside the toilet, resting my back against the wall as I lifted the seat up just in case.
Only a couple minutes later, Chase knocked on the door to check in. I stood carefully, taking a second to find my balance before moving across the small room to turn the doorknob. He urged me to sit back down as he slipped in and closed the door behind himself. I promised him at least three times that I was okay, just a little nauseous. It took him a few minutes of staring at me for him to accept that I was going to be fine. When he finally left, I told him he could leave the door open a little if it'd make him feel better. That's exactly what he did.
Now, he was kneeling on the cold floor beside me. He pressed his palm to my forehead before shaking his head.
"You don't feel warm," he informed me.
"I'm not sick."
"Then what's going on?"
"It's a long story." I shook my head now. "Don't worry, I promise."
"Have you thrown up?" I shook my head again before leaning back to rest it on the wall once more. "Do you want to lay down for a little bit?"
"Just give me another minute and I'll be fine."
"Does this happen a lot?" When I lifted my head and opened my eyes, I realized how concerned he looked.
"Just a couple times. It's been a while since the last time."
"What usually helps you feel better?" Luke, I answered in my head. Out loud, I said that it will pass on its own. "You just look so pale. Like you saw a ghost, or something. You don't have to tell me what's going on, but..." he trailed off.
"Not here," I sighed. "Not like this."
"So it was bad?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't do anything, did I?"
"No," I lied. It wasn't his fault that the thought of anything sexual made me sick to my stomach. Nothing had even happened with Dave, but the thought of what could have was more than enough to freak me out every time I thought about it.
"Why don't we get you upstairs? You can just lay in my bed for a little bit. Would that help?"
"Okay," I agreed, even though I knew it wouldn't make a difference.
Chase grabbed my arm, easing me to my feet. He pressed the back of my hand against my forehead once more. "Just checking," he insisted when I grunted at this.
I followed behind him as he climbed the stairs two at a time, something I had learned he almost always did for no reason other than 'it's fun'. My pace quickened as I felt my cheeks heating up as they regained color.
In Chase's room, I settled cross-legged on his bed, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, I held my hand out toward him, inviting him closer. He leaned down to kiss the top of my head. His protectiveness and worry made me feel safe and loved in the same way that Luke did. That comforted me even more, knowing that if it was Chase that had walked in during the Dave situation, he would have likely acted the same way as Luke did.
"Chase." I squeezed his hand, knowing that I needed to be entirely honest with him.
"One second," he promised as he turned to glance over his shoulder where we could faintly hear his sister calling out from him from the kitchen below. "What's up, Mags?" he called out loudly.
I couldn't make out the words she was saying, but it was obvious that she was saying full sentences. "Go," I urged him. "I'll be right here when you're done."
"You're sure?" He raised his eyebrows.
When I nodded, he smiled thankfully and ducked out of the room, the sound of his footsteps fading. I fell backwards, stretching out onto my back, as my eyes fluttered closed and I focused on my breathing. The thought of telling Chase about everything started to make my heart beat faster again. He was only gone for what seemed to be a minute when I heard the television flicker on from downstairs followed by the sound of the stairs creaking as someone moved up them.
"Carson?" I opened my eyes, sitting up slowly. I felt sick again, just from the thought of telling Chase all of the little details. "You're pale again. What happened?"
"Nothing. I just don't like talking about any of this."
Chase rushed across the room, kicking the door closed behind him. He slipped into the empty spot beside me, and he moved to rest his hand reassuringly on my knee. "You don't have to tell me."
"I do have to tell you. It's something you should know."
"Carson."
"It's something about me that I want you to know," I corrected myself. And then, like a sink that had just been turned on, I was spilling out every detail of that day, including but not limited to Luke rescuing me. As this part of the story slipped from my lips, I felt Chase's body tense up slightly, but his face didn't show this emotion at all. He kept his eyes focused on me, filled with worry and sympathy, and as soon as I stopped talking, he asked if he could hug me. I, of course, leaned forward, throwing my arms around his torso in response, thankful that he asked first but even more thankful that he offered.
YOU ARE READING
Impavid
Teen FictionMeet Carson. She's finishing up her junior year of high school and looking forward to a summer camp she didn't plan to attend. Enter Luke, the new kid who moves in across the street, who just seems to turn Carson's entire life upside down. From the...