by Abbi Glines
Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply. Tried to will all these symptoms away. Then opened my eyes and stood straighter with a fight that died the moment the kitchen began to spin. I had to grab the counter again. I definitely felt off.
“Good morning. Are you going to start in the kitchen today . . . honey?” Mom was instantly beside me, although I couldn’t see her because I was having to keep my eyes closed from the spinning. My stomach wasn’t handling it well, and my head was now hurting so bad I winced with each pound.
“You’re burning up. Come to the sofa.” Mom’s arm was around me, and I let her lead me to the living room, which was closer than my bedroom. I sank down onto the sofa and curled my knees up under my chin. I heard a whimper. I thought it was me.
The pain in my head was battling with the now raw throat I had, not to mention every time I tried to open my eyes, the spinning was there. I had to be still, pray that it ended soon.
“Sit up.” Mom was beside me, pulling me into her arms. “You have to take this to get your fever down. You also need to drink some liquids. When did this start?”
Too many words. I managed to open my mouth and swallow the pill, although it was painful. The cold water felt good to my throat, but it still hurt when I swallowed.
“Have you been like this all night?”
I shook my head and lay back down. A cold cloth was placed on my forehead. And my body began to tremble from chills. My mom had a blanket over me before the first shiver ended. “Can you tell me what hurts?” she asked.
I loved her, but I needed her to stop asking me things. Talking was too much.
“All of it,” I whispered, and shivered again.
“Okay, I’ll wait, but if this doesn’t bring your fever down and help enough in a few hours, we are going to the doctor.”
I wasn’t sure how we would do that when I couldn’t get off the sofa. The world slowly faded, along with my mother’s talking.
The next time I heard anything, it was the vacuum cleaner coming from the hallway. I opened my eyes and waited for the pounding headache. It was duller now. My throat still hurt terribly. I reached for the cup of water beside me, and the ice had melted. I took a drink, hoping it would help. It didn’t.
I started to move, and my entire body felt too weak. I sank back down and closed my eyes. The pounding was returning, and my body was aching now. Closing my eyes, I gave in to the darkness and faded out again.
My mother’s voice telling someone I had woken up very ill and hadn’t been able to do more than sleep all day was what I heard when I woke again. I almost closed my eyes and ignored it when I remembered Nash. We had a date today. I had forgotten. I tried to move and sit up when I heard Mom say something else. Then the door closed. I couldn’t get all the way up. I gave up and sighed in frustration.
Mom walked into the room, and I stared up at her. I wanted to ask, but it hurt to talk.
“That was Nash. He was here to pick you up. I told him you were sick. He said to tell you he hoped you felt better soon. How do you feel?” she asked as she knelt in front of me and put her hand on my forehead. “Your fever was down, but you’re hot again. I’m getting you another aspirin—then we’re going to the after-hours clinic. This could be the flu.”
“I can’t get up,” I moaned, closing my eyes. The idea of going to the bathroom was difficult, much less walking out to the car and going to the doctor.
“We could end up in the emergency room tonight if I don’t take you now.”
She wasn’t kidding. If I didn’t get better, she’d haul me to the ER in the middle of the night. The idea of sitting around all night feeling like this in a waiting room gave me the strength to sit up. “Can you bring me a bra? I am wearing this,” I said in a hoarse whisper. Anything more was too painful.
“Sure. Stay right there. Try and drink more. I got you some fresh water.”
I nodded and took a sip as she hurried out of the room. The Gryffindor tank top and cut-off sweatpants I had slept in would have to do for this outing. I didn’t normally go places with shorts this short, but right now I just didn’t care.
Mom came back with my bra and helped me get it on. “Do you want me to brush your hair?” she asked.
“I don’t care,” I replied. I wanted to lie here in my misery.
She ran her hand over it. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”
I let her help me up because I couldn’t do anything myself. The walk to the car felt like the longest distance in my life. I had to stop several times and lean on her. She patted my head and reassured me it wasn’t much farther.
Once we finally made it to the car, I collapsed in the passenger seat and moaned. Mom laid my seat back, and I curled back up into the fetal position and prayed I didn’t die before we got there. I wasn’t positive this was the best idea. All my symptoms were in full-on attack now that I had moved.
Mom cranked the car, and the AC was cold. It cooled my forehead and made me shiver at the same time.
“They can give you a shot, hopefully, that will help fast,” Mom said, trying to make me feel better about this. “Staying home isn’t going to get you better. You’ve got to be checked out, honey.”
I couldn’t even nod my head to let her know I understood. All my energy was gone from the walk out here.
“Last night must have gone good since you had a date again today with Nash. When you’re better, I look forward to hearing all about it. I’m sure he had a tough night not getting to play. I’m glad you went.”
I fell asleep while Mom chatted on about Nash, football, and dates. I think at one point she was talking about brownies, but I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t stay awake, and her talking was exhausting. Just before I was completely gone, I heard her say something about a unicorn wall. I had no idea what she was talking about. I had missed part of that conversation.
When the car stopped, I opened my eyes and knew there was no way I was going to be able to stand up. I closed my eyes again and hoped she would just leave me in here.
Was This Part of His Vlog Shit?
CHAPTER 24
NASH
There were places I could be. Things I could do. But I wasn’t in the mood for my friends. Instead, I sat on a wooden picnic table in the park away from the screaming kids and their mothers and stared out at the town while I drank the soda I’d gotten from the Stop and Go across the street.
I’d woken up looking forward to spending the day with Tallulah. But she was sick. Her mother actually looked worried and stressed out as she told me about it, so I believed her. Tallulah hadn’t been trying to get out of our date, which was good. Sucked that she was sick, though.
“What’s the story with your leg?” a male voice asked me, and I shifted my eyes from the center-of-town caution light to the guy who had quietly walked up on me, or I’d just been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed. The blond hair was the only reason I recognized him from last night. He’d been the crazy-ass pot smoker I’d passed on my way to the field house.
“Excuse me?” I was annoyed. This guy was rude.
He looked unconcerned by my glare and pointed to my leg. “The leg, your limp—you stood on the sidelines all night. What’s the story?”
Was he for fucking real? “Who the hell are you?” I asked him instead.
He smirked and shook his head. “I’ve only spoken to two people in this town, and neither of you know who I am. I thought I was going to hate it here. I still may. But this being anonymous thing is nice. I’d forgotten what that was like.”
This was one cocky bastard. “Why would we know who you are? You’re not from around here. That’s for damn sure.”
He gave one single nod. “I’m one of the lucky ones. Not born in Mayberry hell.”
He was a douche. I looked back at the traffic light and took a drink of my soda. Maybe if I ignored him he’d go away.
“Not going to tell me about that leg? Fine. I’ll ask your girl.”
That got my attention. “What?”
He seemed pleased with my reaction. “The hot loner blonde who watched you all night. We spoke. I don’t think she cares for me either. You southern folks are supposed to be all nice and friendly. I’m not finding that so here. The West Coast has gotten a bad rap. We’re fucking friendly compared to this bunch.”
He’d talked to Tallulah. She hadn’t said anything.
“What do you want?” I asked him, not in the mood to defend southern hospitality.
He leaned against the tree beside him. “You’ve got a story. Possibly the only interesting thing other than your girl that I have seen in this town. I like stories. It’s my thing. Human interest. Entertainment. That kind of shit.”
The word entertainment was what brought last night’s overheard conversation back to me. I’d forgotten, since it hadn’t been important. I hadn’t cared. But it was all clicking into place now. Pam hadn’t been wrong after all.
“You’re the YouTube vlogger guy.” As I said it, a slow smile spread across his face.
“Surprising. I wouldn’t have guessed you watched vlogs.”
“I don’t. But girls in this town do. You were spotted last night.”
He sighed and nodded. “Probably shouldn’t have gone to the game. But then Monday they’ll see me. Can’t hide at motherfucking school.”
School? He was going to go to our school? Here in Lawton? “Let me get this straight,” I said, finally interested in something this guy had to say. “You are some famous YouTube guy from LA, and you’re in Lawton, Alabama, to go to school?” None of that made sense. These guys got sponsors and shit. They were supposed to be loaded. Why would he be moving from LA to Alabama? Was this part of his vlog shit?
“When your mother catches your father fucking your little brother’s college-age nanny in the pool, then shit happens. It was stay with the dick that is my father in LA, or go with my mother to the town she grew up in so she could be near her parents to deal with life. I couldn’t let Lil Jo leave town without me. Mom is a big girl, and she can handle it. Lil Jo is only five. He needs me. So here the fuck I am,” he finished with his hands held out. “Now what’s your story? You got mine.”
He was here because of his family. Did he even realize how hard it was going to be on him once the rest of Lawton found out? He wasn’t going to have a normal life here. They wouldn’t let him. This was not LA. Celebrities weren’t walking the streets daily.
“They’ll never leave you alone. You won’t be able to go anywhere without drawing attention,” I told him.
He shrugged. “Maybe. Will make for some good vlog action in the beginning I guess. I figure it’ll wear off.”
Seeing as I had never watched a vlog, I wasn’t sure what he videoed exactly. “How’s that work? Your vlog shit. What is it you video?”
He shifted and pulled something out of his pocket, then tossed it in the air and caught it as if it were a ball. “This is one of the many cameras I use.” It was small. Like a little box almost. He then reached into his back pocket and pulled out something else that, when he unfolded it, was a stick. “This is a stabilizer,” he explained. Then he attached the camera to the stick and held it out.
“No school yet. Still trying to figure this place out. There is seriously nothing here. I take back what I said about hell. There’s got to be more action there. Not fair to compare the two.” He was talking to the camera. Then it was directed at me. “This guy won’t tell me shit. It’s the one from last night on the sidelines. He’s got a story. Just haven’t figured it out yet.”
I glared up at the small, offending camera. “Get that thing off me,” I grumbled.
“He’s got a stellar personality, too.”
“He doesn’t want the damn camera in his face,” I said instead.
“Just tell us why you limp. I told you about my dad banging the nanny. The least you could do is tell me why you limp.”
Was that camera on? “Are you recording this? You just said the shit about your dad,” I pointed out. I knew he had millions of viewers.
He chuckled. “Hell yeah, I’m recording it. They know. I already explained why I was leaving LA. Watch my damn vlog. This shit gets edited. What we’re doing now would be boring as hell without some edits. But every time I can tell the world about my douchebag dad, I will.”
I shook my head. “You’re seriously fucked up.”
“You’ve not seen anything,” he told me. “Come with me. I’ll show you fucked up.”
If I sat and thought about it too long, I’d say no. I didn’t really like this guy. But I didn’t think about it. Instead, I stood up. “Okay. Show me.”
I’m Still Not Convinced It Was Legal
CHAPTER 25
TALLULAH
The flu lasted three more days. I was weak and out of it. Nash texted a few times, checking on me, and I replied, but it hadn’t been anything too detailed. Today, however, I was better. I took a shower and ate some toast and fruit. I felt like living again.
I dreaded the schoolwork I had missed. I would spend the rest of the week trying to catch up. I had almost texted Nash to tell him I was coming back to school this morning but then wasn’t sure if I should. Would he care? Our connection seemed so distant now. Not having seen or talked to him since Friday night, I felt weird. Unsure.
Walking into school, I saw a buzz in the hallway, and girls were more silly than normal. When I caught a glimpse of the guy from the football game Friday night, it came back to me. I’d forgotten. He must have been the YouTube guy after all. Why was he here? In Lawton of all places.
“You’re back,” Nash said, coming up beside me.
I was suddenly nervous. “Yeah, I started feeling more like me last night.”
“Good.” He grinned. He seemed happy. The moody guy from last week at school was gone. This was the Nash I remembered. “I missed you.”
I was missed. I couldn’t remember one time that I had missed school over the years when someone had told me they missed me. “Really?” I asked, then felt my cheeks heat at the pathetic way that simple question sounded.
“Tallulah, glad you’re back. Wasn’t the same in class without you.” Mr. Dace was smiling as he stopped in front of us. His gaze was on me, though. He wasn’t focused on Nash at all.
“Thanks. I had the flu,” I explained quickly.
His eyes looked concerned. “That sucks. You take your time with the makeup work. Don’t overwork yourself.”
I nodded, thinking there was no way I was going to take my time.
He finally cut his eyes toward Nash, then nodded once—“Nash”—before he walked on down the hallway.
“I really hate that guy,” Nash muttered.
“Mr. Dace?” I asked, surprised. I didn’t think anyone could hate Mr. Dace. I knew he hadn’t wanted to be at that field party anyway the night Mr. Dace had broken it up. There was no reason for him to hate Mr. Dace.
He lifted both his eyebrows as if that was an understood thing. I was going to ask him why when someone else joined us.
“Looks like the girlfriend is back from the dead,” the guy from the football game said as he came up beside Nash and put his arm around his shoulders as if they were friends. Nash didn’t shrug him off or look surprised.
“Tallulah, this is Haegan. Haegan, this is Tallulah. I know the two of you have spoken before, but here’s your official introduction.”
I frowned and looked from Haegan to Nash. “You know him?” I asked, confused.
“Missed a lot those days you were down sick,” Haegan said.
Nash looked apologetic. “Turns out Haegan was the YouTuber that Pam saw that night. She hadn’t been wrong.”
Haegan Baylor the vlogger? Really?
“Walk me to class, Haegan,” Blakely said, not even caring that Haegan was standing with Nash.
Haegan rolled his eyes and appeared to ignore her.
“He promised to walk me. Didn’t you, Haegan?” another cheerleader said, pushing closer.
“No he didn’t. He hasn�
��t said he’d walk anyone,” Pam announced with authority, like she was his stage manager.
Other girls began to crowd around us, and I started to feel claustrophobic. I needed out of this herd of crazy. My eyes met Nash’s, and he shrugged like this was normal. Had he been dealing with this all week?
“I’ll walk all of you. If you’re going in that direction.” Haegan pointed the opposite way from my classroom. Relief was instant.
When he started walking, the girls followed him like the insane clingy creeps they were. Nash and I were soon left alone again. He glanced toward the departing crowd then back at me. “He’s not that bad. He deals with the fame well.”
I hadn’t said anything negative. I didn’t know Haegan. It was the crowd he drew I hadn’t been thrilled about. “How did you meet him?” I asked, realizing I had missed a lot this week.
“Saturday, when you got sick, I ended up at the park alone. Sitting off in the woods on a picnic table, staring at nothing. He showed up. Pushy as hell. Wouldn’t go away. But you know”—he paused, then gave me a slow smile—“he’s not bad. He’s not football. He has a life that has nothing to do with all that. It’s a good change for me.”
That made sense. Haegan was a friend who wouldn’t remind Nash of all he’d lost. “I’m glad you met him, then.”
Nash gave me a small smirk. “I was on his latest vlog. It posts tonight. I didn’t want to do it, but he insisted. Wasn’t so bad. Was kind of fun. I’m still not convinced it was legal.”
At the word legal I grew concerned, but Nash was smiling like it was the best thing ever, so I didn’t say anything. Maybe he had been kidding. “I’ll have to watch it,” I said, hoping it wasn’t going to get Nash in any trouble.
“Come to Haegan’s with me tonight. He’s posting it, and he wants me to come over and see what all he does when a vlog goes live. I wasn’t sure you’d be back so I said yes. I’d rather spend time with you. If you don’t want to go, we can do something else.”