“Okay, it only takes a second and then ten minutes to process. It can differentiate between Flu A, B, and COVID,” he tells me. I hear him opening the test swab. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” I mutter.
“Coming in. Please, do not punch me,” he jokes, but he holds down my hands with his opposite hand anyway.
Josh is right, it only takes a second and he is careful as he swirls the swab in each nostril.
“All done,” he says.
I peer at him through slitted eyes and watch him swirl the swab in a solution and squeeze a drop into the testing cassette. Gratefulness blooms in my chest once again, and after he sets the cassette on my nightstand, he sets his cellphone timer for ten minutes.
“Thank you,” I murmur, letting my fingertips just graze his forearm.
“Don’t mention it,” Josh says, his lips twitching. “You’d do the same for me.”
“Um…I don’t really think I would.” I let out a pathetic giggle. “I hate germs.”
Josh mocks offense. “What? You would leave me in here to suffer?” He frowns, folding his arms across his chest.
“I don’t know about suffer.” I drop his hand and tug the blanket up higher. “I’d leave stuff at your door.”
“Pshh,” Josh scoffs. “Some girlfriend you are.”
He looks at me then and our gazes lock.Girlfriend.Neither of us acknowledges it but there’s an emotion written on his face that I can’t read. Embarrassment? Hope? Do people call each other boyfriend/girlfriend at our ages? It hangs in the air between us for what feels like an eternity.
Josh clears his throat just as his phone timer goes off, bringing us back to reality and away from topics we haven’t discussed yet. “It’s time. The moment of truth.” He leans over and picks up the test, reading it quickly. “Flu A,” he says, standing. “That’s a relief. Nothing to do but rest and fluids.”
“Okay,” I breathe, suddenly ready to close my eyes.
“Shout for me if you need me, okay?” Josh moves toward the door. If I wasn’t so unwell, I’d be worried about whatever it is he isn’t saying. Josh is the type of man who will stay—who will be there even when things are hard. I can see that now. He had no choice at sixteen, but he does now, and he’s here. But I can’t escape the feeling that there are things he needs to say.
“You mean you didn’t get me a little bell?” I tease, curling onto my side.
“Ha-ha.” Josh turns back. “If you don’t mind…I’m going to sleep on the couch until you’re better.”
At this, a sadness envelops me, and I have the sudden irrational fear that I am losing him. Tears sting my eyes again. I’m just having a regular old pity party over here.
“Really?” I ask, not even bothering to hide the desperation in my voice.
Josh chuckles. “I’ll be right out there. You can sleep with the door open.” He rests his hand on the door handle. “For now, I want you to sleep.”
I don’t reply—I only sniffle and bat at my eyes that are completely betraying me.
Josh sees it because he moves swiftly back toward me until he’s standing next to me. He plants a soft kiss on the crown of my head. “I’ll be right outside,” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. For now, I allow myself to be reassured by that.
“Sleep now,” Josh says, stroking my hair. And then he’s gone.
26
JOSH
For the next few days, Melanie is in and out of sleep. She doesn’t move from the bedroom, except to use the bathroom and then she falls back into bed. On day four, her fever breaks. She’s so relieved she calls for me.
“I’m so sweaty,” she says from the bed.
I’m lingering in the doorway, eyeing her carefully. “That usually means your fever has broken. Did you take any meds yet today?”
