Chapter 4

Aria's POV

The next few weeks passed by in a rush. What with doing homework, going out with the girls or sneaking off to Ezra's apartment, I was kept busy. My relationship with Ezra was even better; we truly are soul mates. We hadn't slept together again, but it was like we understood each-other better now. We were stronger.

I was in school on Monday, on my way to my third hour Math class. I smiled at Hanna as I passed her in the hall, when a wave of nausea hit me out of the blue. I clamped my teeth together, forcing my mouth to stay shut as I tore down the hall to the girls' bathroom. I reached a stall just in time to violently throw up.

"Aria?" I heard the bathroom door open and close, and Hanna's voice calling out to me. "Aria, are you in here?"

I tried to ignore her, taking deep breaths and focusing on the cool, refreshing breeze coming through the open window.

"There you are!" She exclaimed, as she found me crouched on the floor of a stall hunched over the toilet bowl. "Oh my God, you look awful! No offence," She was quick to add.

I closed my eyes and groaned. I felt terrible, and just wanted my bed. Hanna sat down on the dirty floor beside me.

"Hey, it's okay," She crooned, as she rubbed soothing circles on my back. "It's okay, you're alright sweetie."

We sat for another five minutes, until I started to feel well enough to get up again. I put my hand down to push myself off the floor, when the nausea swept over me again. As I leaned forward and emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet once more, Hanna gathered up my hair and held it out of my face.

"Go away," I mumbled weakly. "You don't need to see this."

Hanna chuckled, but it wasn't a happy sound.

"I'm used to dealing with a bit of sick, remember? Besides, anything's worth missing chemistry," She added brightly.

I smiled. That was so Hanna. We sat for a few more minutes in silence, and Hanna braided my hair. Her cool hands were soothing; I loved the feeling of people playing with my hair.

"What do you think brought this on?" She questioned me, as she secured the braid with a bobble.

"I think I ate something," I explained. "Mike made pancakes for breakfast." I added as an afterthought.

She laughed, and the sound was comforting. "That explains it"

"I think I'm good now," I said uncertainly.

She stood up and placed her hands under my arms, helping me to my feet in a similar manner to how someone would lift a new-born. I hesitated, gauging the state I was in, before turning slowly to look at my reflection in the long line of mirrors. I groaned when I saw the state of me, and pulled at face at myself. Hanna giggled. My hair wasn't too bad, the braid Hanna had done was lovely, but my face was covered in sweat and I was an odd, unflattering shade of green.

"Attractive," Hanna teased me, with a smirk on her face.

I burst into tears. The tears caught me off guard; I wasn't expecting them. I watched my reflection as the salty droplets ran down my face and splashed onto my t-shirt and the floor. My heavy black mascara and eye-liner made thick black tracks down my face, and my foundation washed away. Hanna stared at me in shock.

"I- I didn't mean it," She rushed. "You look fine, honestly."

I shook my head.

"Don't worry, it wasn't you," I assured her.

The frown lines on her faced relaxed.

"I don't know what brought it on, I just feel horrible. I want my bed," I told her, sounding like a small child.

She laughed. "Come on; let's get you to the nurse. But first let me clean you up a bit. You really do look awful now!"

I slumped against the sink as Hanna took out a packet of wet-wipes and cleaned my face. Without the makeup, I looked as ill as I felt; and I was not a pretty sight. She rummaged through my purse to find my makeup bag, and carefully reapplied it.

"There, you look beautiful!"

I looked in the mirror, surprised at the person facing me. I looked almost normal; Hanna had done a good job. She wrapped me in a careful embrace, and kissed my cheek lightly. I smiled back, grateful that I have such good friends. Hanna linked her arm through mine and helped me stumble down the hall to the nurses' office.

We walked through the door as another kid was leaving. The nurse looked up when she heard mine and Hanna's heels echoing off the tiled floor.

"What's the matter with you, honey?" She asked in a concerned, motherly nature.

I shrugged. I guess I must have still looked pretty grim, seeing as she knew it was me who was sick; not Hanna.

"She was sick," Hanna explained. "A lot."

"Thanks for bringing her," She told Hanna. "You can go back to class now."

"Oh, but shouldn't I stay with her? I think it would be comforting," Hanna tried.

The nurse just raised her eyebrows at her, in a "You can't fool me' sort of way. Hanna sighed.

"Fine, I guess chem's almost over anyway. Get better soon sweetie." She told me, giving me a hug and a peck on the forehead.

"Thanks Han, I'll text you later."

I lay in bed watching a movie on my laptop. I was feeling far better - pretty much normal, but mom insisted that I stay in bed and not eat or drink anything but dry toast and water. She loved it when Mike or I got sick; she loved babying us. I tuned off the movie and shut down the internet, seeing as I wasn't really paying attention to it anyway. I spent a few minutes flicking through pictures of me and the girls which they keep nagging me to put on Facebook, but I never get round to it. Then I got to pictures of me and Ezra that we had taken a few weeks back. I smiled at how happy we both looked, and clicked on one to make it my computer wallpaper, but quickly thought better of it. Although it was my laptop, mom used it sometimes. She didn't go through my things so she wouldn't find the pictures, but she would see my wallpaper when she signed on.

I reached for my phone and to send a text to Ezra.

Missing u beautiful; hope to see u this weekend. Got any plans? XO

I went back to my laptop and opened up the latest piece of writing I'd been working on. Ezra had inspired me to pursue writing, insisting that I had a natural talent, and I was actually feeling quite good about this one. Ezra had looked over it and given me ideas, and it was coming along quite well. He was so encouraging; tell me I should do whatever I wanted to do, be what I wanted to be. It was great to have that kind of motivation in my life. I submersed myself in my writing, and was surprised when mom came up and told me it was eight already.

"How are you feeling baby?" She checked.

"I told you, I'm fine mom."

"Well, if you're sure. We left you some dinner, it's pasta bake."

"I'll be right down," I promised, closing up my laptop. The thought of food made my stomach growl, and I hopped out of bed and down the stairs.