New Kid on the Block *h.s [completed]

Chapter 93

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The incessant beeping of my alarm clock wakes me from my comfortable slumber, and I flail an arm around wildly to try and turn it off. My fingers close around my vibrating phone, and I pull it to my face as my thumb presses down on the lock button to snooze the alarm. I drop my phone back down onto my nightstand with an annoyed slam, immediately bringing my hand to my head.

A wave of nausea washes over me as I sit up, swinging my feet over the side of my bed to rest on the floor. My mouth parts slightly as I feel a bit of bile rise up in the back of my throat, and I lay back down. I bury my head into my pillow, trying to regulate my breaths so I'm not sick all over the carpet.

As my heartbeat returns to normal, I try to swallow to rid my mouth of the foul taste, but I can't due to the large lump of phlegm in the back of my throat. I take a large breath to attempt in breaking it up, but my nose is too stuffed up, and soon enough, my sinuses are aching as well.

I continue to lay in bed as the minutes of my snooze alarm continue to pass by, and only when I hear the persistent beeping, do I sit up again.

The surge of nausea returns, but this time I fight through it and manage to make it on my feet. Granted, I stumble slightly when my vision gives way to a dizzy spell.

I slowly make my way downstairs, holding onto the banister in a death grip to guarantee my safety.

I find my parents in the kitchen, my mom standing at the sink with a coffee mug pressed to her lips, and my dad sitting in one of the stools across from her.

My mom's iPad is open and on the kitchen counter, and my dad seems to be scrolling up and down the screen. I assume they're looking at the news, it's their daily routine.

I walk into the kitchen without a word, sliding into the seat at the breakfast bar next to my dad. I lean my elbows on the countertop, rest my palms against my temples, and mumble, "I'm sick."

"Hi Sick, I'm Dad." The man next to me jokes, pretending to hit an air drum with his fingers.

I sneak a peek at him through my fingers, and stare him down until he looks over at my mom.

"Karen, she must be dying, she didn't even say something sarcastic and mean." He gasps, holding his hand to his mouth.

"Shhh." My mom hushes him, walking around the side of the island to check on me.

She presses the back of her hand against my forehead, checks the sides of my nose, and asks me if the room is spinning. I nod my head in response, closing my eyes to calm my approaching headache before it begins.

"Her forehead is as hot as the inside of an oven, her nose is as red as Rudolph's, and she can't see straight. She definitely has the flu." My mom announces, resting her hands on her hips.

"I told you." I mutter bitterly, pushing my hair back from my face as I feel a hot flash come on.

"Go back to bed, Pipes. We'll call the school and let them know that you won't be there." My dad reassures me, waving me off.

I nod my thanks, dragging myself across the hardwood floors back to the stairs. There, I meet Carter, who has his backpack on his shoulders and his hair freshly styled.

"Are you sick?" He asks when he takes in my ghastly appearance.

"Yes." I rasp, and he winces when he hears how much phlegm is in my voice.

"I'm sorry, Pipes. Get better, I'll see you after karate." He tells me, moving in for a hug.

I step back, and he frowns. "I don't want to make you sick too." I explain and he nods.