January 6th, 2009
Gaara told her that she had slept right on into the night, as she was running a comb through her hair. Staring blankly at herself in the mirror, she looked behind her in it to see Gaara leaning against the door frame.
"Well, I still feel
kinda off, but I'm going to go to school anyway. No point in wasting
the day just because I feel off."
Gaara rolled his eyes.
"You just had a fever
of 102, and you think you can go to school the very next day? Might I
remind you I found you on this bathroom floor?"
Hasame gave
him a disapproving look.
"No, you don't need
to remind me, mother."
He shot her a glare, "But I still need to go to school. I have
no idea what I missed, and I have no one to ask what happened the
first two periods. So I gotta find out myself."
She looked so
pale. Paler than normal. Sickly pale, minus the blush across her nose
and upper cheeks. Her eyes looked deepset due to the purpleish,
blueish tinge they had to them due to the illness. Her lips were
chapped beyond belief as she had breathed through her mouth the
entire day and night of sleeping.
"If I don't feel good, I'll just go to the sick room."
"You could come here. Just tell me and I'll be here."
Hasame sighed and rested her elbows on the countertop, pressing her forehead against the glass. It was cool against her still warm forehead.
"I can't, because I would have to call home, get someone to pick me up, then grab the bottle and come here, which is all impossible, as both my parents are at work and they travel almost an hour away in opposite directions from the school. Very inconvenient, if you ask me, but I don't complain."
Gaara's mouth thinned to a firm line as he stared at Hasame's reflection in the mirror. Deciding he couldn't win this one, he sighed and tilted his head back to touch the wall.
"Fine. But take care of yourself. You look pretty bad, so don't do anything exuberant."
Hasame grinned, wanting to laugh but didn't have the energy.
"Please, all I do is sit and write. Hardly exuberant, I would say."
"That doesn't take away from the fact of the matter that you're still ill."
"Yes, yes."
Hasame grabbed the back pack from her feet and turned to look at her friend. He didn't look very happy at the prospect of her going to school. Oh well.
"I'll be fine. Trust
me."
He let her through, but muttered, "That's what I'm
concerned about."
The day passed
uneventfully. First period, she was barely conscious. It was such a
slow class, and the teacher didn't make it any easier by turning off
the bright flourescent lights. He had a dull voice, so the constant
droning for and hour and ten minutes was not helping.
It was
around the very end of second period that she was feeling bad
again.
Walking to the place where she normally had lunch with her
friends, she sat on the window sill, curled up still in her winter
coat and put her forehead on the glass. Her dizzy state was returning
and her vision was swimming again.
