Amanda Jason - Lucky Number Four

“Tell Henry to help Drew himself then, if he thinks I’m not doing a good enough job.”

“I told him to shut up and let you be, and I haven’t heard from him since. He will not let me forget this. I swear, sometimes I just want to be normal.” My mom looks tired, and I feel guilty that I’m adding to her problems.

“I’ll try harder, Mom, but it’s difficult when the object I’m supposed to be helping is absent all the time. Don’t worry, I’ll fix this.” I get up and put my arms around her and she leans back. I kiss the top of her head. “Love you, Mom. Jeff and I have to go. We’ve got an early class tomorrow.” I kiss her cheek and we walk arm in arm back into the living room.

“So Henry didn’t tell? What a relief for you now, but if it’s your job to help Drew, then that’s what needs to happen,” Jeff says, driving back to his apartment.

“Did you see the tabloid when we went grocery shopping yesterday? Did Drew look like he needs help, or is pining for me? No. He looked happy posing with Angela. So no more talk about Drew. I’ll handle my mom if it comes up again.”

“Okay, I’ll butt out. We need to concentrate on graduating anyway, and we have no time for love.”

“Wait. What about Liam? You haven’t done anything stupid, have you?” I turn to look at him and see him smiling in the light from the dash.

“No. We’re taking it slow. It’s a new world for him, and I understand that, so we talk on the phone most nights. He’ll be gone for a month, so we’ll see.”

“I hope he sees what a catch you are. What am I saying? Your ego is big enough already. Scratch that from your memory.” We burst out laughing, and it feels good. I haven’t laughed it what seems like forever.

Valentine’s Day. It’s either a truly wonderful day or it sucks. And mine is at an epic level of suck.

Waking up this morning, I threw up violently, which means I either have the stomach flu or food poisoning. It doesn’t even matter because I don’t have a date or someone to share this “great” holiday with. Not like I could if I did, since I have this whole upchucking thing going on. Jeff brings me a cool washcloth and places it on my forehead, and it makes me feel at least fifty percent better.

“I’ll stop by all your classes and get any work you need to finish. You just stay in bed and drink plenty of fluids. The last thing you need to do is get dehydrated.”

“I will. Jeff, don’t call my mom. I just want to just lay here and die in peace.”

“You’re not going to die. It’s just the flu, and you’re healthy, so you should get over it fast. Is there anything you need before I go, besides another stomach?”

Yep, Mr. Psychic knows what I was going to say.

“No. Just go to class and don’t come home. You have a date tonight, so take your clothes with you and dress at the loft. If I die, I’ll call and let you know.” I give a halfhearted laugh and then shoot out of bed, making it to the porcelain God just in time.

“I don’t think I should leave you,” Jeff says as he holds my hair.

“Get me some Saltines and I’ll nibble on those. I’m sure I’ll feel better soon. Now, go and stop mothering me. Thanks for holding my hair, and I love you, so scoot.”

I make it back to bed, barely, and Jeff brings me three bottles of water and a box of Saltines, blows me a kiss, and leaves after telling me to call him if I need anything.

I look at the clock. It’s been three hours since Jeff left for school, and with the nap, some water, and Saltines, I’m feeling better. Okay, I feel better as long as I don’t move.

I can’t remember the last time I was sick. I just never had the time. Before I fell asleep, I did call work and tell them I was sick, and my boss was in awe that the mighty Pandora Phillips had allowed a bug to bring her down. I’ve never missed a day of work in more than four years. I should get a medal or something for that. She told me to get better and call her when I was up to it.

I turn on the television and the morning shows are full of helpful hints of what to get and do with your love on this special day. Great. I flip channels, and every movie station is showing romantic films, so I turn it off.

Since I’ve changed my number, I’ve had no more missed calls from Drew. I avoid the tabloids so I don’t have to see that he’s moved on. My heart hasn’t healed like I had hoped it would. I type “how long does it take a broken heart to mend” into to Google, but don’t get a definitive answer. I’ll have to wait, I guess, and then one day it may fix itself.

My cell rings and I grab it off the bedside table. It’s Jeff.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” I reply.

“Are you lying to me?”

I roll my eyes as if he can see me.

“Rolling your eyes is not an answer.”

“I’m better—ate a handful of Saltines, drank some water, and thankfully haven’t vomited once since you left. So stop worrying and just enjoy your time with Liam.”

“Okay, but if you need me, I’m only a phone call away. Get some sleep and I’ll call you again in a few hours. Bye, love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

I’m drifting in and out of sleep when the phone rings. This time, it’s my mom.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie.” I hear my dad yelling the same thing in the background. “What exciting plans do you have tonight?”

Should I tell the truth? Hell no. She’ll get in the car and drive here, and that’d be terrible for everyone. I’ll have to lie and hope she buys it.

“Jeff and I are ordering a pizza and then watching romantic comedies all night. What are you and Dad doing?”

“We have dinner reservations. Bridget is out with her friends, and Taylor is going out with—honey, what’s her name again? Skye, that’s it. We haven’t met her yet, but he says she’s nice. And we think Bridget has a crush on someone, but she’s not telling. I wish you’d find a nice guy, not like that jerk you dated for three years. I never liked him. He had beady eyes. Well, you and Jeff have a nice time. While you’re looking for a nice guy, find one for Jeff too. He needs to find happiness. Love you, sweetie.”

That went well. Lie told and believed. So why do I feel dejected? Everyone has a life but me. I can’t even go out looking for anyone with this bug, so I guess I’ll have to wait it out.

What am I saying? I’m still into Drew, and who knows when I’ll get over him.

Depressed now, I switch on the boob tube again and find a movie that isn’t a freaking romance. It’s about the end of the world. Yes, definitely a more fitting choice.

I wake up the next morning with the television is still on. Jeff must not have come home, or he would’ve turned it off.

I get up to go pee and my stomach instantly rebels. I make it to the bathroom with seconds to spare. I’m so over this. I can’t afford to be sick any longer. I need to go back to school and work. I pull myself up from my sitting position on the floor and barely make it to the bed without falling. I cram a Saltine in my mouth and down a sip of water. I’ll just have another nap.