Viruses & Romances

"You can go back inside, if you want." Jake said, an apologetic look on his face. I knew he was probably embarrassed for waking me up at this hour, even though I didn't blame him, because it sounded exactly what I would've done, too. And what was even more surprising was that he actually opened up and talked to me about it, which was very un-Jake like. Still, on a sudden urge to do so, I leaned over and hugged him, relaxing at his warmth. Jake hesitated for a minute, and then he put his arms around me, too. I smiled.

"Naw," I said, letting go and looking towards the barn. "I think I'll go get some of my chores done so I have most of the day free. Ace'll-Hey, do you wanna ride with me today?" I asked him, changing my sentence and hoping he would. Not that I was afraid of riding alone, but he hadn't rode with me for a while. I liked his company, even though he mostly just drove me insane.

"Sure," Said the cowboy-in question, "And I'll help you with the chores." He offered, shrugging as we made our way to the barn. I ran my hand over the wall and found the light switch and flipped it on, showering the barn with light and making the horses tilt their ears forward as they heard us come in. I saw a small, black head sticking out and went over and rubbed a sleepy Tempest on the nose, feeling her velvety fur against my fingers.

Secretly, I was kind of relieved. I feel bad, of course, for liking the fact that Jake didn't want to leave, because a while ago he was all for it. I guess that had been the first time I had really considered the idea that Jake would be gone, and he wouldn't be here every early morning, sitting in the kitchen and scarfing down Gram's cooking. And now, he wasn't going.

It didn't erase my curiosity of why he wasn't going, but at least I didn't have to worry about him leaving. Not unless he changed his mind of course, you never really could know what Jake was going to do. Take a few minutes ago, for an example. I never would've expected Jake to throw rocks at my window like he used to when we were still little kids.

"You gonna stand there all morning?" Came the familiar drawl.

I sighed. Jake was back to normal.

With one last stroke of Tempest's nose, I stood up, stretching as I looked at Jake. In the light I could see he was wearing the usual; a western shirt and faded blue jeans, complied by boots. His calm, brown mustang eyes gazed at me from under the Stetson hat, shadowed and hard to read as the rest of his face was.

We got to working on the chores.

It didn't really take that long, with the two of us working to do the usual chores ((Feeding the horses, cleaning their hooves, retrieving eggs)), and pretty soon we were done and heading into the house. "Wyatt and them aren't up yet," Jake observed, as I went over to the fridge and putting them in the rightful place. "Nope," I said, "Cody isn't sleeping through the night yet, so they were probably up all night." I said, remembering the crying that had sometimes woken me up.

Jake nodded. "You want breakfast?" I asked, knowing that the answer would be yes.

He raised his eyebrows. "You know how to cook?"

"Well, uhm, not really." I admitted. "But I do know how to fix some things." I told him, turning around and getting some eggs back from the fridge. "What do you want?" I asked him, turning once more.

As usual, he shrugged, his eyes watching every move I made. I sighed, which I seemed to be doing a lot lately, and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Fine," I huffed. "Don't talk to me." I said. The only reply I got to that was Jake sitting down in a chair, snorting at my reply.

"That's imitating a horse, not talking." I teased him, getting out a skillet and cracking the eggs on the tabletop, breaking the eggs and poured the yoke and the stuff inside of it inside the skillet, doing the same with the others until there were enough eggs for both of us. I paused a minute before putting it on the stove and turning the knob to a certain degree, and then dug around in the fridge for a moment before pulling out sausages in a packet and also putting them in another pan, setting it on the stove.

I turned around and saw Jake watching me intently. For some reason, I blushed, keeping my eyes on the tabletop as I sat down, waiting for the breakfast as I reached over and got some bread out and popped it into the toaster.

We kind of sat in silence for a few minutes. I wanted to ask him why he decided to change his mind about college, but I decided to save it for the ride. He might not want to tell me, and at least riding would give him excuse not to answer.

Suddenly, the toast popped up, and the eggs and bacon were just about done. I got up, got two plates, and put the food on the plates and then set mine down on the table and held Jake's in my hand, grinning.

"Think I can cook now?" I teased him playfully.

"Hmm," He murmured, narrowing his eyes at me. "Depends. I haven't tasted it yet."

I rolled my eyes, setting his plate down on the table. "You're hopeless, Jake Ely." I told him, sitting down in my own chair and picking up the fork that was on the plate. Jake shrugged, because this didn't faze him. "Probably," He said, picking up his fork and stabbing it into the egg.

As soon as he took a bite, he winced, his eyes snapping closed as his hold on the fork tightened.

I froze, and I could have sworn my heart stopped at that moment. The flashback of Jake being like this yesterday, when we were scattering the hay, flashed through my mind.

"Jake? What's wrong?" I asked, and my voice picked up the fear that was I feeling. I didn't know what to do, and I really couldn't move, frozen to the spot. My instincts told me to grab the phone and call an ambulance, but I didn't. Still, I had the urge to do something. Jake was starting to scare me as he sat there for a moment.

"Ow," He muttered finally, after what seemed hours but I knew was only minutes. His grip, which had slowly started to turn his knuckles white, loosened and he set the fork down on the plate and rubbed his temples, opening his eyes and seeing my scared witless look.

"What...what was wrong?" I asked the obvious question. It had something to do with his head, but I didn't know what. And why was it happening to Jake? That was twice in two days…

"I dunno," Jake admitted, resting the side of his head on his hand. "I just, everything got dark and my head started to hurt." He said softly.

"Same thing that happened yesterday?" I asked him.

Jake slowly shook his head, and then thought better of it. "No. Yesterday I was standing, and then got dizzy and slowly, everything got dark for a minute. This time it just…made my vision go kind of blurry and the headache." He said, looking up at me with weary brown eyes.

"Oh."

'That was an intelligent and supportive, wasn't it?' Said a little voice inside my head. I ignored it.

"Jake…have you told your parents?" I blurted, before I thought of it. That was stupid to say, why would he tell his parents when he had just had a big fight with them last night? Still, sometimes I had a habit of talking before thinking. Jake shook his head, and I knew he probably would have come up with a sarcastic reply if he had been feeling better.

"Well…maybe you should. I mean…" I sighed in frustration when Jake shook his head once more. He was the most infuriating, aggravating, cutest, cowboy I had ever known.

Whoa, back up, my mind told me. Did I just think he was the "cutest"? I mean sure, he was cute, but--wait, this is not the time to think about this.

"Jake, you might need to go to the hospital," I argued. "I mean, what if you had something like that when you were out riding? Specially by yourself!"

Jake shrugged, and then glanced back down at his plate, and then picked up the fork and slowly started eating again. I sat there glaring at him for a moment, hoping to mentally stare the sense into his head, but I don't think I have mental abilities, because it didn't seem to work. Or maybe it just doesn't work on stubborn, aggravating cowboys.

I sighed in resign, for now, and then copied him, returning to my breakfast.