"Upstairs." I say almost as quietly.
"Of course its upstairs. God forbid it be in a closet downstairs where I wouldn't have to traipse through all your stuff without you."
I giggle and cough at the same time as he disappears upstairs. I hear muttered curses and thumping. If I didn't feel like death on a stick, this would be hilarious. As it was, I find it reason enough to keep myself from blacking out.
Not a minute later, he is downstairs with a giant comforter and clothes, which he unceremoniously throws at me. I Glare at him, but it lacks its usual intensity. I duck under the comforter, pull of my bathing suit and pull on the clothes he got me. Gym shorts and a t-shirt. I am fairly certain these were laying on my bed when I left the house this morning. Thank God for small favors.
When I let the covers fall below my chin, I find him bustling around the kitchenette. He is fixing me something to eat. I feel suddenly uncomfortable and exposed. I do not know this boy, but he is in my home, caring for me at my most vulnerable moment.
I clear my throat, which has suddenly become very dry. I reach up to fix my wet hair into a ponytail, only to find that I lost my hairband in the surf. Unsurprising, really.
"You know, I think you can go. I'll be fine now that I'm home. I just pushed myself too hard. My little sister should be back soon."
He looks at me with raised eyebrows and an amused smile. "You just want to get rid of me because you're afraid of depending on anyone."
I think about denying it, but do not. It is true. Instead I say, "I just don't think that you're obligated to look after me. I'm grateful, don't get me wrong, but I don't even know you."
"Of course its upstairs. God forbid it be in a closet downstairs where I wouldn't have to traipse through all your stuff without you."
I giggle and cough at the same time as he disappears upstairs. I hear muttered curses and thumping. If I didn't feel like death on a stick, this would be hilarious. As it was, I find it reason enough to keep myself from blacking out.
Not a minute later, he is downstairs with a giant comforter and clothes, which he unceremoniously throws at me. I Glare at him, but it lacks its usual intensity. I duck under the comforter, pull of my bathing suit and pull on the clothes he got me. Gym shorts and a t-shirt. I am fairly certain these were laying on my bed when I left the house this morning. Thank God for small favors.
When I let the covers fall below my chin, I find him bustling around the kitchenette. He is fixing me something to eat. I feel suddenly uncomfortable and exposed. I do not know this boy, but he is in my home, caring for me at my most vulnerable moment.
I clear my throat, which has suddenly become very dry. I reach up to fix my wet hair into a ponytail, only to find that I lost my hairband in the surf. Unsurprising, really.
"You know, I think you can go. I'll be fine now that I'm home. I just pushed myself too hard. My little sister should be back soon."
He looks at me with raised eyebrows and an amused smile. "You just want to get rid of me because you're afraid of depending on anyone."
I think about denying it, but do not. It is true. Instead I say, "I just don't think that you're obligated to look after me. I'm grateful, don't get me wrong, but I don't even know you."
