When James woke up the first thing he noticed was that the living room was dark, except for the dim light of the lamp in the corner. The television was turning off and there was no sun in the sky.
He stretched, sitting up carefully as not to irritate his aching muscles. He wondered what time is was and how long he'd been asleep. He was grateful that he didn't have to wake up in his own home, but he didn't want to overstay his welcome at the Mitchell's home.
"Hey, James," James jumped at the whispered greeting from across the room. It was then that he noticed Logan sitting in the chair by the lamp, reading a book.
"Oh, hey. Sorry," James winced at how groggy and hoarse his voice sounded.
"Don't apologize. You've nothing to be sorry for," Logan told him softly. The room was so quiet it was almost eerie.
"Well, sorry for just crashing on your couch," James said as he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.
"You were tired. It's okay, really. You needed to sleep."
"How long was I out?" James asked through a yawn.
"Since we got home from school, which was around ten. It's ten at night now," Logan told him as he shut his book closed and placed it on the side table where the lamp stood.
James could tell by his voice that he was worried about him. James was hit with a wave of guilt. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to be worrying about him. Between school, hockey, homework, and everything else that went on in their lives they didn't need to worry about him on top of it all. He'd been doing just fine on his own, so there was no reason to drag his friends into the hellhole that was his life.
"Seriously James, are you sure their isn't something you aren't telling me? You just don't seem right," Logan asked him softly, not wanted to push him.
"Logan, chill. I told you, I'm fine," James tried to tell him but he could tell by the look on Logan's face that he wasn't buying it.
"You are not fine! You've been so out of it lately! You're being really quiet, you're always tired, you're lacking your usual confidence and you're shying away from everyone! Seriously dude, I just want to know what's wrong so I can help. You're just not being yourself lately."
Even in the dimly light room, James could see the concern in his best friend's eyes. He hated that lost, hopeless look on his face. He really wanted to know what was bothering him. He really just wanted to help. It was times like these that made James want to break down and cry. It broke his heart that his friends wanted the truth so badly and that was something he could never give them. But how much longer would they believe his lies?
"Logan, please, I-" James was cut off by a sneeze.
"Bless you," Logan said.
"Thanks. But Logan, really-," another sneeze. Then another. Then another. Before James could stop what was happening he was thrown into a full blown sneeze attack.
Logan grabbed some tissues and brought them over to James, his forehead wrinkled in concern. He began fussing over his sneezing friend immediately, hands on his cheeks and forehead, looking at his eyes and skin for anything out of the ordinary.
"What was that? Buddy, I think you have a fever," Logan said as he pressed the back of his hand to James' cheek once more, "is that what's been going on? Have you been feeling sick?"
James hadn't been feeling sick at all until that moment. Actually, he didn't even feel sick then, just increasingly tired. Even if he did just wake up, he was exhausted already. He knew he'd have to play along though. It was just another lie, another little game he played to keep his secret safe.
Hating to have to tell yet another lie, James nodded his head. He grabbed a tissue from Logan and dramatically blew his nose into it.
"Let me get the thermometer," Logan said before disappearing into the bathroom.
James laid his head back down on the couch. He really just wanted to go back to sleep. He was still just so tired. He knew Logan would be back any second with a thermometer though, ready to doctor his and coddle him as much as he felt necessary. James didn't bother closing his eyes. He knew that if he did there was no way Logan would be able to wake him up again anytime soon, and that would just start more problems.
Logan came back into the living room, armed with the thermometer, a bottle of medicine and a glass of water.
"Alright, open up," Logan told him as he stuck the thermometer in his mouth.
James complied and remained still and quiet as they waited for the thermometer to beep. James felt his eyes start to droop with all the peace in the room, and Logan's hand on his back wasn't helping.
Thankfully, the thermometer sounded before he could obtain the luxury of sleep. Logan pulled it from his mouth and checked the reading.
"Man, why didn't you tell me you felt sick?" Logan questioned. He sounded a bit offended that his friend wouldn't come to him with a health issue.
"I don't feel sick," James told him honestly.
"James, your temperature is 101 degrees. I know you must not be feeling well. Why didn't you just say something?" Logan asked him.
"I don't know. I'm tired," James told him, not bothering to come up with lie to answer his question. He was too tired to think, so he opted to just avoid the complete truth.
"Well, you should get some rest. Take some pills first, though. They'll help bring down the fever."
James held his hand out to Logan, who shook out two little red pills into his palm and handed him the glass of water. James took a swig of the water and popped the pills in his mouth, swallowing them with ease.
"Well, I better get going," James said as he pulled himself off the couch, ready to grab his coat and shoes.
"James, it's below zero! You are not walking," Logan said firmly.
James scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. He knew his friend meant business. He hated to ask, but he had to if Logan wasn't letting him walk home.
"Well…will you please, um…drive me home, Logie?" James asked, shyly. He hated to make Logan go out of his way for him. It was unnecessary and rude, he thought.
"There's a snow emergency. All cars have to be off the road," Logan informed him, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring hard at him.
James stared back, unsure of what to say.
"Come on, you need to get to bed. Go lay down in one of the guest bedrooms. I'll call your dad and let him know you're staying here tonight."
"No!" James shouted, "I mean, it's fine, I'll just go home, really Logan. I don't want to over stay my welcome."
"Don't be stupid. You, Kendall and Carlos are always welcome here. My parents love you guys. They won't mind and you know I won't mind. You're staying. Now up to bed," Logan ordered, shooing him toward the hallway that contained two of the three guest bedrooms.
"Fine, but don't call my dad," James told him. Maybe he was imagining things but he could have sworn he heard a pleading tone in his own voice. He was hoping Logan didn't hear the same as he did. However, the suspicious look on his face told James differently.
"I mean…I'll just text him. He's working. He can't answer a call," James tried to assure him.
"Uh, okay. Anyways, I'm sure there isn't going to be school tomorrow but go rest up anyways. You know the guys will be here bright and early," Logan said as he stretched his arms over his head.
"Yeah, okay," James nodded his head before heading down the hallways to the green guest bedroom, his favorite because it had a big screen TV, a king sized bed and really cool pictures on the walls.
Logan headed down the opposite hall where his bedroom was located. Before he had reached his down he was stopped by a small voice.
"Logie?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," James said in a promising voice, sounding as if he was truly glad for his friend's hospitality.
Logan wrote it off as James being overtired and smiled at him, "You're welcome. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Both boys headed to bed without another word. Logan was glad that he had James there with him so he could keep an eye on him. James was just thankful that he had a safe, warm bed to rest in that night. He could sleep, if only one night, without having to worry about that monster he called his father.
