Love Game

Chapter Twenty-Two - Sick

My stomach was in knots, my body was shaking uncontrollably. Ever since we landed in Denver late last night, I have felt terrible. I went straight to bed once Gabe and I arrived at our apartment, not bothering to say goodnight to him. I feel bad for not at least kissing his cheek as a goodnight kiss. I just didn't want him to get whatever bug I currently had.

I lie there in bed, surrounded by all the pillows and blankets I could find. I would run to the bathroom in the middle of the night to throw up, so I caved and just brought a bucket into my room with me after. I should have gotten a flu shot, but I am terrified of needles.

My forehead was pouring with sweat. I threw all the blankets off me, soon to bring them back up to my chin after I started shivering. I tried to find a comfortable position, but every time I tossed and turned, my stomach also tossed and turned, causing me to reach for the bucket.

I didn't sleep in the same bed as Gabe last night. As I said, I went straight to bed. I didn't change out of my clothes until I woke up in the middle of the night. Now I wore just Gabe's t-shirt, and I was still roasting to death. I had the flu and I was on my period. My stomach wasn't a happy camper.

I put the bucket back on the floor, wiping the corners of my mouth with a piece of tissue. I leaned back into the pillows, sighing to myself in defeat.

I heard a slight knock on my door and I groaned loudly, probably giving Gabe the impression that I didn't want to see him; but I wanted to. I wanted him to take care of me and to hold me, but I didn't want to get him sick.

"Mallory, honey, it's time to go to practice." I hear Gabe's sweet voice whisper behind the cherrywood door.

"Noooooo," I groaned, feeling my stomach turn at the thought of suicide drills.

My door slowly opens and Gabe pokes his head in. His blue eyes grow wide with concern as he rushed to my side. Before I could protest, he pressed the back of his hand to my forehead.

"You are really hot," he whispers, then looking down at the bucket, covering his mouth with his hand. "You're really sick."

I nod weakly at him, resting my head on one of the several pillows as I look up at him. He looks down at me and frowns, soon picking up the bucket.

"I'm going to take care of you today. I'll tell coach either one of us won't be at practice." Gabe says sweetly, trying not to gag when he looks at the bucket.

"I don't want you to get sick," I whisper, feeling my eyelids grow heavy.

"I'd rather get sick than have you get worse," he whispers, placing his cold lips to my burning forehead, then rushing off into the bathroom to dump the bucket.

I curled up into the blankets again and I closed my eyes. I jerked up once a cold, wet washcloth was placed on my forehead; but it sent relief instantly. I felt Gabe's hand stroke my sweating cheek, tracing circles around it.

"Will you be alright while I go to the store and get you some things?" he whispers, continuing to caress my cheek.

I nod slowly and I whimper, feeling no energy to say a simple 'yes' to him. He hums in concern, placing his lips to my cheek.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself," he mumbles.

"I'll be fine. I promise," I croak out, placing my hand on top of his.

Before Gabe had left, he placed the bucket by my bedside. He handed me my phone and a couple bottles of water. He gave me some crackers to nibble on in case I was hungry, which I couldn't even imagine at the moment. He set up my laptop for me and put on Netflix. I thanked him with a smile before he left me to go to the store.