Ch. 18

Brrrriiinnnnngggg!

The early morning silence was shattered by the alarm clock on James's bedside table. Forcing his eyes open, James rolled over and freed his arm from his blankets to switch the ringing machine off. Sitting up, the little boy rubbed at his eyes as sleep fell away from him and his room swam into focus. Pale grey light spilled in through his window and a slight breeze rattled the tree branches outside. Thankfully, James's room was still decently warm and it wasn't so bad getting out of bed and getting dressed. Not like-

James shook his head. No, he'd finally had a night with no bad dreams thanks to Miss Spider's presence and a soothing cup of chamomile tea, but James knew he'd still rather not think about anything that could change that. Especially after...

After what Dylan said.

James sighed as he made his way to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth. He hadn't really wanted to think about much last night, but now he couldn't stop himself from thinking about Dylan. Why had the older boy yelled at James the way he did? And why had he seemed so angry, as though what James had told him was insulting Dylan in some way? James didn't know, but oddly enough, he wasn't sure if he felt angry at the older boy. Oh sure, he was still upset and he couldn't deny that Dylan's words had hurt him, but...

James sighed as he finished brushing his teeth and combing his hair. Strange as it was, James felt more sorry for Dylan than anything. His grandmother being in the hospital for a long time was bad enough, but Dylan never talked about having friends or liking anything other than watching TV. In fact, Dylan hadn't wanted to believe what James had said about Spiker and Sponge because he believed such things only happened on TV. James couldn't imagine only sitting at home all day in front of a screen and never talking to other kids or hearing about their lives or even offering them advice from time to time.

I wonder if my aunts... I don't know.

Never mind them; what about Dylan? James knew he'd have to see the older boy at breakfast, even though he was certain Dylan would put up yet another fight. James paused and listened at Dylan's door; he couldn't tell if Dylan was still asleep or not, but at least there was no screaming.

At least, not yet.

Well, that was likely to change given how James was certain the rest of his family was sure to have heard about what Dylan had said to him last night. Chances were they wouldn't be happy with him this morning and would probably try to force Dylan to apologize at breakfast. And James had a bad feeling that would only lead to more screaming, shouting, and wailing.

And he's going to be here for the next two weeks. Plus, you won't be able to go outside to play this weekend because of the weather. You'll be stuck with him!

James sighed as he retrieved his backpack from his room. He had actually been looking forward to this weekend, as being inside with his family while a blizzard howled outside was actually a rather pleasant thought. But if Dylan was with them and couldn't watch TV, he might decide that yelling at James was a good substitute and the little boy doubted if getting scolded was enough to really stop Dylan at this point.

By chance, James happened to glance up at his shelf before he left. Sure enough, he caught the stuffed otter's dark eye and felt himself smile at the sight of her curled up on the truck's hood. Right, he would be able to finish his project tonight and he could show it to his whole family later. At least that was sure to be fun!

"You're still going to help me, right? Oh don't worry; I'll bring you back to the truck tomorrow after Tessa and I do our presentation. That way, you'll both be home for the blizzard too!"

No response came from either of his toys, but James was certain that the light in his room caught the stuffed otter's eye and the truck's grille just enough for him to sense a smile from both of them.
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The kitchen was awash with warm smells by the time James entered, but he barely had time to set his backpack down before Mrs. Ladybug enfolded him in a tight embrace.

"Oh, James, dear, I'm so sorry about last night."

"It's okay." James leaned into his guardian's arms. "I'm alright now."

"Are you though?" Mrs. Ladybug pulled away from James to meet his eyes. "Dearie, you know you can tell us anything, right?"

"I know. I just..." James averted his eyes a bit, nestling closer to Mrs. Ladybug. "I guess I don't feel like talking much right now."

Mrs. Ladybug sighed, running her fingers through her son's hair. "I understand, love. But I hope you know we're always willing to listen if you want to talk."

"Yes, Mrs. Ladybug."

"Alright then. Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"I imagine you must be, given you didn't eat much last night. Come and eat. I have fresh waffles and bacon, along with some fried potatoes I made from our leftovers and they're nice and hot. And how about some fresh strawberries too?"

"Yes please."

"Here you are. Enjoy."

James settled into his chair to eat, a bit surprised he was the only one at the table so far. He did hear footsteps upstairs and figured it wouldn't be long until the rest of the family- Dylan included- joined him. James tried to ignore the idea of Dylan's glaring face as he ate, but he knew it wouldn't be long before the older boy's anger soon dominated the breakfast table.

"Thank you, my dear Mrs. Ladybug." Mr. Grasshopper's voice reached James's ears as the tall insect strode into the room with his own plate of food. "My boy," he added with a smile, reaching down to ruffle James's hair. "How are you this morning?"

"Good."

Mr. Grasshopper looked as though he were about to say something, but he paused for a moment before nodding and starting to eat. James felt a surge of relief run through him; much as he was glad his family cared about them, he hated seeing them worry. Besides, they'd soon have enough to worry about once...

Once Dylan shows up.

"You have two exams today, do you not, James?"

James looked back up at Mr. Grasshopper, nodding as he swallowed down a piece of strawberry. "Spelling and math. My friends and I went over everything together yesterday."

"Good lad. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully. And I believe you'll have this mysterious project of yours finished today?" Mr. Grasshopper asked with a smile as he sipped from a cup of steaming tea.

"Yes." James returned his guardian's smile. "I'll show it to you later. I just want to wait until everyone's together later so I can show you all."

"I am very much looking forward to it, dear boy. I'll be thinking about it all day and I have no doubt whatever it is you've come up with will exceed my expectations."

"Oh, Mrs. Ladybug!" Centipede's amused voice called from the living room. "Mind comin' in here? I think you gotta patient." The sound of the couch cushions rustling as someone was set atop them punctuated this statement.

"Oh?" Mrs. Ladybug hurried into the living room. "Dylan? What in the world?"

"I don't feel well," the older boy answered. "I need to stay home."

James's brow furrowed at Dylan's voice. While it was true he wasn't shouting or whining, Dylan didn't exactly sound like he was sick. If anything, it sounded more like he was pretending to be sick. But... no, he couldn't be doing that.

I don't know. It sounds like something he'd do.

"Hmmm, you don't have a fever," Mrs. Ladybug was saying. "What's troubling you, exactly, Dylan?"

"I don't feel well," Dylan moaned again.

"Do you feel sick to your stomach? Does your throat hurt?"

"Yes."

"Which, Dylan?"

"Everything." This was followed by a not-very-convincing cough. "And my head hurts too. I feel really bad."

"You don't say," Centipede said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

Mr. Grasshopper sighed, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and standing up. "I'd best see what's going on. You stay and finish your breakfast, James. If what Dylan is saying is true, I shan't want you falling ill."

James obeyed, chewing his last bites of bacon and potatoes he listened to the conversation unfolding in the next room.

"Feeling a tad under the weather, young man?"

"I feel really sick!"

"Oh really?"

"I do!" This was followed by another round of dry coughing. "And I can't get up. I feel dizzy."

"That might be the start of the flu," Mrs. Ladybug mused. "Tell me, Dylan, are you hungry at all?"

"Not for any of that food."

"And how do you know that, if you don't know what's being served for breakfast?" Mr. Grasshopper asked.

"I just do." The last word held Dylan's trademark whine. "I'll throw up if you try and make me eat it."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake."

"To be fair, you didn't want the grilled cheese last night either," Centipede was saying now.

"No. I started feeling sick then."

"What? Why didn't you say anything?" Mrs. Ladybug asked.

"'Cause you were just gonna yell at me." Despite not being able to see Dylan's face, James could easily picture the older boy's face set in a self-pitying pout.

There was a pause from the living room. After about a minute or so, Mr. Grasshopper spoke up.

"Very well, Dylan. If you truly do not feel well, you may stay home from school."

"I don't feel well. I need to just stay home and watch TV and-"

"Yeah, we get it."

"At the very least, I'm going to bring you some orange juice and crackers. Try to eat those and then... we'll go from there." Mrs. Ladybug sighed as she headed back into the kitchen.

James picked up his own glass of orange juice, sipping the last of the sweet liquid as he felt his mind race. Did... did his family really think Dylan was sick? No, no they had to know he was faking. They had to! Mrs. Ladybug even said Dylan didn't have a fever and she was a doctor. And... James froze as he set his glass back down. Wait, Dylan had said he started feeling sick last night, but hadn't told anyone because he was afraid of being scolded. Was... was Dylan faking being sick not just to stay home from school, but because he was trying to get out of trouble?

"Looks like it's just you and me this morning, kid." Centipede strode into the kitchen while flipping a few pieces of bacon into his mouth. "Angel had to do some paperwork late last night, so she's sleepin' in, but at least she's off today. Heh, lucky her."

"Indeed. You'll alert her to the situation before your shift at the hospital, Mrs. Ladybug?"

"Oh yes. And you're escorting Glowworm home tonight, Centipede?"

"You know it!"

"Good. I'll do another shopping run before I come home just to make sure we have what we need for the weekend, but we should all be fine."

"Sounds good to me. Well, Jimmy-boy, ready to go?" Centipede winked at James.

"Yes. Be right there."

James quickly collected his breakfast dishes and hurried to deposit them in the kitchen sink. Mrs. Ladybug was fixing a try for Dylan, but she paused to hand James his lunch.

"I made chicken salad from the last of the roast we had on Tuesday and I must say, it came out quite well."

"Thanks, Mrs. Ladybug." James paused for a moment, then added,

"I hope Dylan feels better."

"Oh, I'm certain he will," Mrs. Ladybug answered with a knowing smile. "Don't you worry about Dylan, James dear. I promise we'll take care of everything. Oh, but may I ask you for a favor, dear?"

"Sure."

Mrs. Ladybug smiled again. "Before you leave school today, would you kindly stop by Dylan's classroom and pick up his homework, along with any other missing assignments? I'll call the school today and see if they'll allow Dylan to turn them in on Monday. After all, he'll have plenty of time to work on them this weekend."

James felt a grin of his own steal across his face. He nodded and accepted one last hug from Mrs. Ladybug before heading off to get ready for school. As he pulled on his winter coat, however, James caught Dylan's eye from where the older boy was laying on the couch, still in pajamas and wrapped in his quilt. The older boy's pudgy face split into a grin and he stuck his tongue out at James before turning away and burrowing into the couch as though he could barely lift his head. James picked up his backpack and followed Centipede out into the chilly morning, doing his hardest to ignore Dylan's sneering.

After all, James doubted Dylan would have much to laugh about once he saw how much homework he'd have to do this weekend.