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Nathaniel’s arms, hands, and face burned.
Lola Malcolm cackled in his ear.
Someone gripped his shoulder too tight. “Oh, my son,” Nathan said. “I do hope you’re ready to die.”
Neil Josten woke up. The world tilted as he fought his way out of the covers of the bed and ran to the bathroom.
He vomited into the toilet before he could close the door.
Neil was more or less himself once he flushed the toilet, but the beginnings of a migraine squeezed at his temples and behind his eyes. He struggled to haul himself up using the counter.
He avoided the mirror and scooped a handful of water from the tap in his mouth to rinse out the taste, spitting it back out before nausea could consume him again.
He left the bathroom and eyed the bedroom. Blankets were strewn all over the floor but he couldn’t bring himself to pick them up. In fact, he could barely lift his hand to turn on any of the lights.
Kevin was sound asleep in his bed, snoring softly into his pillow. Andrew didn’t make noises in his sleep but Neil knew, even in his sick, sleep-muddled mind that he would have woken up right as Neil woke up from the nightmare.
The nightmare that was still ever-present in his mind. He could see his father’s eyes waiting for him every time he blinked.
Neil clenched his fist and willed his legs to move. The microwave in the kitchen read 4:26 . No use going back to sleep, he thought. Or even trying.
He went to his desk to get his things together for the school day, lifting his backpack from the floor and onto his desk chair.
The room spun around and tilted sideways.
Neil collapsed to the ground.
Neil woke up later to bright light and something cool over his forehead. He painstakingly opened his eyes.
It was daytime. He was on the couch on his back and he was covered in a blanket. The dorm was unusually quiet.
Andrew tutted next to him. “Can’t go one week without something happening.”
“I’m fine,” Neil said slowly. Talking was difficult at the moment, but he was glad Andrew was there when he woke up. “Where is everyone?”
“Class.”
“Shit. I need to go to class. Why aren’t you?”
Andrew put his arm in front of Neil’s chest and slowly pressed down so Neil would lay flat again, his hazel eyes a storm. “You’re sick. I’m making sure you don’t die. Here.”
Andrew put a glass of water to Neil’s lips and Neil sipped like he’d never had something to drink in his life. The cool water soothed his aching throat.
“Thanks,” Neil said.
“Shut up,” Andrew replied and went to the kitchenette. Neil heard water run then shut off, a cabinet open then close, and then rattling.
Andrew came back a moment later with a wet cloth and a bottle of aspirin. He took the old cloth off Neil’s forehead and gave him a pill. Once Neil took it, he put the new cloth on.
Neil relaxed into the cooling sensation against his headache and rearranged the blankets around him so that he was more comfortable.
“Yes or no?” Andrew asked.
“Yes.”
Neil closed his eyes when Andrew smoothed back his sweaty bangs with his hand. Neil exhaled slowly and fell back asleep, feeling completely safe.