Comeback (15 page)

“He is,” Khloe said. She held an eyelash curler over her right eye.

“Zack better be. All the time to my BFF. Or I will do more than send him an emoticon with a black eye.”

We giggled together. I smoothed the Covergirl foundation, blending it along my jawline. It covered my freckles—something I wasn't used to seeing. I curled my lashes, starting
to feel a little better, and applied a light coat of brown mascara on my upper lashes. The ginger ale had helped the nausea, and the Tylenol had finally started to work.

I smiled to myself. Maybe I had caught it just in time. I peered in the mirror, looking
very
closely at my face. Why hadn't the foundation covered the red? It didn't even look as though I'd applied blush. It looked like I'd spent a weekend at the Hamptons without sunblock.

I fumbled through my makeup, grabbing a cover-up stick. I rubbed the heavy makeup on my cheeks.

There.

Redness gone!

I'd have to come up with an excuse for why I was wearing so much (too much) makeup, but at least I'd covered the fever. Just to be safe, I patted powder on my cheeks. Clear gloss, and makeup was done.

Staying at my desk, I ran a brush through my hair, deciding to let it stay loose and wavy tonight.

I turned my chair and went to my closet. “Makeup done,” I said. “Now clothes. You know it's code that you've got to help me choose.”

“Of course,” Khloe said. “And I'm not setting one foot outside the door without fashion advice from Lauren Towers.”

I looked through my shirts, ignoring that the fact that
everything
started hurting the second I'd stood.

“I'm flattered,” I said. “You know the way to my heart.” Grinning, I turned to her, a hand over my chest.

Khloe smiled, and I turned back to my clothes.

“Um . . . Laur?”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Did you totally change your makeup routine?” Khloe asked. “I didn't pay attention to how you did yours tonight. Did I miss a huge EBT?”

I kept my gaze on my clothes, pretending to be concentrating on a shirt. “You didn't miss anything at all. I added extra cover-up because I had some really gross breakouts that came out of nowhere. Perf timing, right?”

“Ugh, I hate when that happens. I always break out at the ‘ideal'—
not
—moments. Thank whoever invented Clearasil! An invention that has saved countless people from going into hiding when a monster pimple popped up.”

I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. My eyes watered nonstop, and I swallowed saliva. And kept swallowing. I took a huge breath through my nose and sat on the chair next to my closet, forcing myself to focus on the shirts I'd picked. By “picked,” I meant grabbed before another bout of nausea hit.

“I can't wait to hear what you think about the Chinese place,” Khloe said. “It's about time we got Chinese on campus. Cold noodles with sesame sauce, kung pao chicken, and orange chicken are my ultimate faves.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and blew a big breath through my mouth. Hot and cold swept over my body, almost at the same time. Just the
mention
of that food—I couldn't even think about the specifics—had me five seconds away from running into the bathroom. The ginger ale that had tasted good moments earlier rose in my throat. I sat absolutely still. Our room felt like a boat on rough waters and I was seasick.

“Lauren.”

The tone of Khloe's voice made me open my eyes. Slowly.

“Need help with something?” I managed to get out, trying to keep my voice casual.

“I really do,” Khloe said. “I'm trying to figure out why my roomie looks like she's about to throw up and isn't telling me.”

My shoulders slumped. I leaned forward, the shirts falling, and clutched my stomach.

Khloe was kneeling beside my chair in an instant, a hand on my arm. “Laur, what's going on? Please tell me so I can help.”

“Nauseous,” was all I could say.

“You're doing the right thing. Keep your head down and stay still.” Khloe switched from date mode to in-total-control mode in a millisecond. “If you feel like the room's spinning or you're dizzy, shut your eyes, too.”

“'Kay,” I whispered. White spots swam in front of my closed eyes.

“Do
not
move. I'm going to the bathroom to get a cold washcloth. I'll be right back.”

I heard Khloe's bare feet hurry across the floor, and she muttered at the water to come out faster.

She knelt back beside me. I still had my eyes closed, but I felt her knee brush my foot. She put a cozy blanket over my now shivering shoulders, and I wrapped it over my arms and across my chest. I heard the mini-fridge door open, and a soda can popped open. Khloe brought over a ginger ale with a straw and PeptoBismol tablets.

I lifted my head slightly, opened my eyes, and took small sips and chewed the tablets. Khloe stayed beside me while I waited to see if the medicine would help. After a few minutes, the nausea lessened enough for me to talk.

“Thank you. I'm so sorry, Khloe. I—”

“Shhh. Not right now.” Khloe's brown eyes were wide with concern. “Just listen to me. If you're able to sit up
all the way, and you can keep your eyes closed if it helps, I'll put a cool washcloth on your forehead. It'll help with the nausea.”

I stayed bent over, taking a breath.

“You're going to be fine, Laur. Promise. Lots of things could have made you feel sick all of a sudden. You skipped lunch, so you might be really, really hungry. Or if you had a snack, maybe it upset your stomach. It might be something that goes away just like
that
.”

I slowly raised my head. Khloe was going to find out about my fever the second she touched my forehead.

“Good job,” she said, her voice soothing. “Does anything else feel wrong?” She held the pink washcloth, ready to apply it to my forehead.

I reached for the washcloth and swiped it across my cheeks. One at a time.

“Omigosh, Lauren!” Khloe said, touching my blanket-covered arm. “You have a fever! It looks like a bad one. Oh, no.”

“Please let me apologize this time. Khlo, I felt sick all day. I thought if I ignored it, then it would go away. I really thought I was sore from riding when I took the Tylenol this morning, but I kept feeling worse and worse.”

“You should have left class and gone to the nurse,” Khloe said. Her tone wasn't judgmental, just sad.

“I couldn't. I didn't want to even think about the possibility that I was, okay,
am
sick. I can't be sick now. There's so much going on. I can't miss one day at the stable, and I was so excited about tonight for both of us. I'm ruining it now.”

“No,” Khloe's voice was firm. “You're not. Did you choose to get sick?
No.
I get why you didn't want to believe it. But you're sick, Laur.”

She put a hand to my forehead. “Oh. I'll get Christina after we get you into bed. You must feel awful. Poor LT.” She took the washcloth from my hand and pressed it lightly to my forehead.

“That feels really good,” I said, tilting my head back a little. “I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I really thought I could make it through a date with Drew and sleep off whatever this is. That's why I'm wearing ten pounds of foundation. I'm
really
sorry I lied to you about that. I hoped I could cover the redness from the fever.”

Khloe was quiet for a minute. “I'm most upset that you have clear skin without the hint of a breakout in sight. When I apply concealer, it's to cover
real
zits! I hate you a little for that.”

I laughed a little, even though it hurt my stomach. “You're being so wonderful about this.”

Khloe stuck out her bottom lip. “I don't like it when my best friends are sick.”

“Oh, Khlo! You need to leave! Zack! Your date!” I uncovered an arm and took the washcloth. “Tell him it's my fault you're late. I'm just going to crawl into bed and sleep.”

“Wow, your fever must be insanely high. There's no way I'm leaving you alone while you're sick.”

“Khloe,” I said. Nausea bubbled in my stomach. “You have to go. You were so excited.”

“I was. But guess what? There's a Friday night
every
week. I'd be worrying about you the entire time. Please don't feel bad or like it's your fault. I
want
to stay and help take care of you in any way I can.”

“You're—you're amazing. I—”

I dropped the washcloth, covered my mouth with my hand, and ran for the bathroom. The blanket fell off me during my dash to make it. I got on my knees in front of the toilet and had barely lifted the lid and seat before throwing up.

“Coming in,” Khloe said softly.

She gathered my hair and put it in a loose ponytail.
She sat on the bathtub edge, a hand on my back. “You poor thing. It's going to be okay. I'm right here unless you tell me to go.”

I shook my head from the toilet. Khloe gave me a handful of toilet paper. I'd just finished wiping my mouth when I started throwing up again.

WHILE I CURLED INTO A BALL ON THE BATHROOM
floor after the umpteenth time of throwing up, Khloe went to get her phone.

“I'm texting Lexa to get Christina,” she said. “No way I'm leaving even just to go down the hallway.”

I nodded, pressing my hot cheek against the cool tile. I'd never felt this sick. Ever. Not even when I'd gotten food poisoning a few summers ago from mayonnaise on sandwiches at a picnic.

Someone knocked on our door and then opened it.

“Oh, no, Lauren,” Christina said, coming into the bathroom. “Aw, sweetie.” She sat beside me and lightly rubbed my back. “We're going to get you feeling better. I'm so sorry you're sick.”

“Thank you for coming over,” I said, my voice barely audible.

I shut my eyes again, feeling like I was going to throw up.

Khloe told Christina everything that had happened since we'd been in the room together and mentioned the parts I'd told Khloe about how I'd felt during the day. I listened to them, feeling as though I was drifting in and out of a fog.

“I don't want Lauren sleeping on the bathroom floor,” Christina said to Khloe. “Let's get her into bed. Don't try to move her until I get a bowl to put beside her in case she gets sick again.”

“I'll be right back, Laur,” Christina said.

I fell asleep on the floor before she returned.

WHEN I WOKE UP, IT WAS STILL DARK EXCEPT
for Khloe's unicorn night-light. She was propped up in her bed, a magazine on her chest, sound asleep.

The alarm clock read 4:44 a.m. I tried to remember the haze of last night. Christina and Khloe had helped me into bed, covering me with cool sheets and adding an extra blanket on top of my comforter.

Christina had put a red plastic bowl next to me. I'd heard her tell Khloe that she would be in every couple of hours to check on me, but if Khloe needed anything to call her no matter what time.

Khloe.

She had gone above and beyond a BFF. All night she'd given me sips of water and ginger ale, rinsed out my
bowl if I'd gotten sick, and changed the washcloth on my forehead.

“I'll stay up all night with you, Laur,” she'd told me despite my weak protests.

The last time I'd looked at the clock had been sometime after two in the morning, so my bestie hadn't had much sleep at all.

I vaguely remembered Christina coming in and out and taking my temperature every so often.

I wanted to tell Khloe to snuggle under her own covers and get comfortable, but I also didn't want to wake her. But before I could decide what to do, I fell asleep again.