10
Avery came back to functionality and general awareness like he was swimming backward up a garden hose. Man, what a bad one. He’d felt the migraine coming on just after lunch and let Uncle Theo know he was heading home. By the time he reached his car, the auras started. Before he’d gotten home and out of the daylight, the orbs in his vision were so intense he could barely get his apartment door open.
Somewhere along the way, he’d thrown up. He could taste it in the back of his throat. Hopefully, he’d made it to the bathroom this time. But he’d also managed to take one of the fast-acting pills and keep it down, if the bitter residue crushed between his molars was any indication.
The pain in his head was gone, though, mostly, which left him with the general sensation of having been hit by a school bus and then stepped on by every member of the Power Sound of the South. He was warm, though. Comfortable. His cheek was resting on...not his pillow. Something too firm for that. And something heavy was draped over his midsection.
He opened his eyes. On the TV, two actors carried out a scene. He flinched at the flashing lights, but the migraine had settled and did not rear back to life.
Avery blinked, taking stock. Coming back was always a slow process. But honestly, given how he’d been prepared for his eyeballs to burst and his ears to start bleeding at any moment not that long ago, he felt pretty okay.
Except then he realized he couldn’t hear a word the actors were saying.
Not a single thing. Their lips were moving, and Avery could hear none of it.
“Oh my God!” He pushed himself up, flailing and rolling.
“Whoa!”
“Oh my God!” He flopped over, tumbling to the floor. He was scrambling back to his feet in a second.
“Avery?”
“I can’t—” He put his hands over his ears. “I can’t—”
“What’s going on?”
“I can’t hear them. I can’t hear!” He turned and—
Linc stood there in his SFD T-shirt. His eyes were wide and scared, his hands out like he was ready to tackle Avery if needed.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Avery pointed at the screen, gasping. “I can’t—I can’t hear what they’re saying.” The doctors said he shouldn’t be worried about side effects with his migraines, but they didn’t know. They’d never felt the pressure. Never heard the ringing that said the bomb in his brain was about to detonate at any second.
“I can’t—I can’t—” He was hyperventilating.
“Hey. Hey. It’s okay.” Linc wrapped his big arms around Avery and held him close.
“I can’t hear.” Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes.
The shoulder under his cheek rumbled with laughter, and Linc’s fingers tunneled into the hair at the nape of Avery’s neck, massaging at the bottom of his skull.
“Can you hear me?” From this angle, Linc’s voice was deeper than usual.
Avery blinked. “What?”
“You can hear me, right?”
“I—” He pushed himself up so he could see Linc’s face. “Yes.”
“So...” Linc smiled widely. “Is it possible you’re okay and I muted the TV?”
Avery gasped. “I—you—” He glanced at the TV where the actors were still mouthing their lines. “But why would you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want to wake you up?”
Avery slumped back onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God.”
