Chicken Soup for the Soul
Utter crap.
That was an appropriate way to describe how Eva felt right then. Her nose was stuffy and her throat felt like she'd swallowed a bowl of steaming hot soup, but the steaming hot soup was actually molten lava disguised as steaming hot soup cause that's what it felt like every time she took a sip of water or even just swallowed air. Her head was pounding, her ears were ringing and she felt too exhausted to decide whether she was too cold and needed the blanket or too hot and she just wanted to lie splayed out on the mattress in just her underwear.
She'd just messaged Noora to tell her that she didn't have to rush over, that she'd be fine by herself until school let out. Plus she knew Noora was seriously testing her attendance record what with her skipping school to go rendezvous with William after they made up during Eva's party.
The rest of the girls had messaged her as well when they noticed that she wasn't in school and Eva couldn't hide the fond, warm feeling that came over her when she realized just how much they cared. It wasn't that she didn't know it already, they were friends after all, but there was just something heartwarming in knowing that your presence mattered that much to another person. It wasn't a feeling that Eva was used to, or at least it was a feeling of isolation and insignificance that Eva had grown used to.
Her mom was away at work, which really wasn't surprising and Eva knew that if she called her mom to tell her that she was sick, that she'd probably come home to take care of her, but Eva didn't want to trouble her that way, after all she wasn't a child anymore and she'd grown used to taking care of herself. She would just power through the way she always did, although in that moment she wasn't sure whether the knock at her window was indeed something occurring in real life or just a figment of her fever frazzled mind.
"Go'way," she moaned at her hallucination, hoping it would get the hint and just leave her to wallow pathetically in her own gross perspiration, doing a near perfect impersonation of an angry drenched cat.
She must have dozed off after exerting the exhaustive effort into shooing whatever or whoever it was away, because the next thing she realized the gutter window over her bed was open and there was the sound of pots and pans clattering and the footsteps of someone shuffling around in her kitchen upstairs.
The thought that a burglar had somehow creeped into her house through her window while she was sleeping made the small hairs on Eva's arm stand on end and the rational part of her brain said that she should maybe call the cops, or her mom, or Noora – someone. But the much more predominant, irrational part of her brain was thinking that there wasn't anything upstairs that couldn't be replaced, she just hoped the burglar would just keep it down because the incessant shuffling around was making her pounding headache turn into a thundering headache.
Eva thought she must have either dozed off again or her headache actually managed to knock her unconscious because the next thing she realized, her room was overwhelmed by the smell of chicken soup that only made her already chronic feeling of nausea double in intensity and there was a person standing at the foot of her bed.
"You look terrible," said the voice and it managed to rip a disgruntled groan from Eva's throat. Of all the people in the world she didn't want to have seeing her looking like a soggy bag of hair, he was the absolute top of that list.
"Go'away, Chris," she moaned, turning around grumpily and pulling the blanket up over her head, hiding herself from view.
That lasted all of ten seconds because all of a sudden, it was like she'd opened a portal into hell because that's how it felt being completely submerged under her blanket.
She flung it off her and crawled out into the open air pathetically, not even caring what sight Chris was going to see once she emerged. But Chris wasn't at the foot of her bed anymore. She released a sigh of relief, but there was a small part of her that felt strangely disappointed by his absence.
But her disappointment lasted only about a minute because Chris returned from wherever he'd disappeared off to, this time with a small towel flung over his shoulder and a bowl of water cradled in his hands.
"You should have called, Eva," he said.
Eva wasn't looking at him, burrowing her shame and her face reddened by the fever in her sweat soaked pillow. She felt the mattress dip slightly and a cool hand reaching over to brush her disheveled hair out of her face, combing it to the side and over one shoulder, allowing the cool hair to hit the back of her neck. Eva nearly let out a moan because of how good that felt.
"Didn't want to bother anyone," she said, peering out from between the crook of her arm to stare at him with one eye. "'Sides… you might have been with your new girlfriend," she said teasingly, though it held a note of bitterness that obviously came through to Chris.
"Yeah…" he said, a small regretful smile tugging at his lips, "Not my finest moment. Though, you and that curly hipster looked a bit too cozy for two people who were just friends," he said and this time it was Eva's turn to pretend to find the headboard of her bed a lot more interesting that it really was.
"I was coming down with something," she said, "I wasn't in my right mind."
Chris chuckled at that. "Sure, Eva."
"Guess we're just not cut out for this boyfriend-girlfriend thing," she said. It was just fact, but it didn't help the tinge of sadness she couldn't help creeping into her voice.
Chris was silent for a while which made Eva think that he'd left. She turned her face to look at him and found him already staring right at her.
"You know, I was actually thinking about that," he said with a small, sly grin, "Boyfriend and girlfriends – it's just such an overrated term."
"Uh – okay?" said Eva bewildered. Her brows slightly furrowed.
"Hear me out, Eva. Imagine this," he said, having put aside the cloth and the bowl and his hands making a rainbow shape in the air in front of him as he said; "Soulmates."
"Wh – What now?" spluttered Eva. "Are you drunk, Chris?"
"I'm serious. The girlfriend thing didn't work out cause… well – 'cause it didn't for reasons absolutely beyond our control, and yet here we are, where we always seem to find ourselves. You and me. Chris and Eva. You: disheveled and half-dressed and me: looking impeccable as always," he said with a grin, quickly ducking out of the way of the pillow Eva had just flung at his head, "I mean… it's fate, plain and simple."
"If by fate you mean it's you just being a nuisance, then I completely agree. Speaking of which, how did you know I was sick anyway?"
"Noora told William," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "And William messaged me: 'Your girlfriend's home sick. Go take her soup, dickhead.' – I might be paraphrasing there, or I might not be," he said, clicking his tongue.
Eva didn't know whether to roll her eyes or laugh. She opted for neither because all of a sudden the room started spinning again and any sudden movement might cause her to projectile vomit the food she didn't eat that day all over Chris. That was an appealing thought though. But she just groaned and buried her face in her pillow.
The cool hand rubbing circular motions on her back felt heavenly and helped ease the nausea and the taste of bile that had risen up to her throat. She hoped it would never stop.
"Better?" Chris's voice asked and Eva could only nod through her pathetic moaning.
She felt him shuffling around on the mattress beside her; his hand didn't stop massaging her back even when she felt him rising up from the bed and when he finally eased himself into reclining position beside her; only stopping to switch hands.
Eva dared a peek through the room still felt like it was on some sort of slow motion roller coaster but the sight of Chris smiling down at her made her feel a little less shitty that she did a minute before. When the spinning slowed down enough, Eva reached over, extending an arm across Chris's stomach and pulling her sweat soaked, repulsive self to rest on his torso, the coolness of his chest was like a balm on her own burning skin.
"Sorry for getting you all gross," she muttered, closing her eyes to absorb the comforting feeling of Chris's presence beside her.
"I accept you and all your grossness," he said and that elicited a soft chuckle from her. His hand was combing through her hair, brushing it back from her forehead and the other continuing to massage her back comfortingly. "Just sleep, Eva," he said.
And Eva did just that.
She didn't know how long she slept, but she woke up confused and disorientated after what felt like years, but her cheek was still plastered on Chris's strong cool chest and his fingers were still carding through her hair; the only difference was that the sky outside her window was now dark and her room smelled like more than one variety of chicken soup. At least the smell didn't make her sick like it did earlier.
"You friends came by," said Chris when he noticed her stirring in his arms.
Eva adjusted herself so that she was resting on his shoulder and was able to look up and meet his eyes. "They did?"
"Yeah, and they brought soup," he motioned to her side table by the wall and indeed, sitting stacked one on top of the other, were four different plastic containers filled with four different kinds of chicken soup.
Eva felt a warm tingling feeling blossom inside her gut and it had nothing to do with the soup.
"What did they say?" she asked, looking back up at Chris.
"Not much, they didn't want to wake you. Instead they said that they'll come over tomorrow to see you and to get well soon. Also to call them in case you need anything," he said. "And Chris said to tell you that having lots of sex is a proven cure for the flu."
That part made Eva laugh out loud. "Which Chris actually said that bit?" she asked.
Chris grinned one of his Cheshire cat grins. "Depends on whether it would provoke a loving tap or a smack in the teeth."
"Get back to me on that tomorrow," she said, curling deeper into his embrace, "And don't even think of going anywhere tonight."
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he said.
Eva had the best sleep that she'd had in years that night.
The end.