RoomHate

“What the hell is going on down here?”

She ran toward him and threw herself into his arms. “Baby! I got understudy for the role of Veronica in The Phenomenals!”

“Are you kidding? Holy shit. That’s fucking awesome!” He lifted her up in the air and spun her around.

Feeling awkward and like a third wheel, I cleared my throat and said, “Congratulations, Jade. I’m so happy for you!”

Justin finally put her down. “When does this all go down?”

“They want me in New York in a couple of days.”

He looked frazzled. “Aw, shit. Alright…um…I wish I hadn’t committed to that gig at Sandy’s. I would have just gone back with you.”

“It’s okay. It’s only a couple more weeks that you promised him, right? It’ll go by fast.”

“Yeah.”

Jade smiled. “Be nice to Amelia.”

***

From the moment Jade left, Justin made even more of an effort to stay in his room during the day and also ignored me at the restaurant. He never performed She Likes To Watch again.

Aside from my intentionally joining him in the kitchen when I knew he was having his coffee, there was no other interaction. It seemed that Jade’s departure was causing even more distance between us. It went on like that for a few days until the one afternoon that everything changed.

I’d just gotten home from an afternoon shift at Sandy’s when what sounded like wretched hurling coming from upstairs caught my attention. Without thinking it through, I ran up the steps to find Justin keeled over with his face inside the toilet.

“Oh my God, are you throwing up?”

“Nah. I’m giving cunnilingus to the toilet. What the fuck do you think?”

“Did you eat something bad?”

He shook his head before another volcano of puke erupted within him. Looking away, I shut my eyes until he was finished.

“Can I get you any—”

“Just go, Amelia.” He flushed the toilet.

There was something about a person being sick and helpless that made you see the child in them. Despite Justin’s trying to act tough, he seemed virtually helpless in that moment.

“Are you sure I can’t get you—”

“Leave!” My body shook as he screamed.

As another round of vomiting commenced, I reluctantly went back downstairs.

After several minutes, I could hear him returning to his bedroom. I stayed downstairs for about an hour. Things were unusually quiet. On a normal day, he’d be moving around in his room, so I knew he’d either fallen asleep or was lying down. Being the paranoid person that I was, I started to imagine that maybe he’d passed out from dehydration. He hadn’t come down to get a drink of water. Given all that he’d thrown up, that was dangerous.

I sucked it up and marched up the stairs. Lightly knocking on his door, I didn’t bother to wait for him to respond before entering. “Justin?”

He was lying on his side, his head against the pillow, and his eyes were open. He just stared at me blankly, but his eyes seemed glassy.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

Without seeking permission, I approached and placed my hand on his forehead. It felt hot to the touch. “You’re burning up. We need to take your temperature.”

I ran to the bathroom and fished through the medicine cabinet for a thermometer before returning to Justin.

“Put this in your mouth.”

He chuckled. “That’s normally my line.”

Rolling my eyes, I demanded, “Just do it.” I was slightly relieved that he was actually joking around with me.

Amazingly, he didn’t fight me on taking his temperature. The thermometer beeped, and it showed that he had a significant fever.

“It’s one-hundred and two point five. Were you supposed to play tonight?”

“Mmm hmm,” he moaned.

“I’m calling Salvatore, telling him you can’t make it.”

“Don’t. I might see how I feel in an hour.”

“There is no way you are going to be able to perform like this.”

“I’ll call him in an hour,” he insisted.

Justin’s phone buzzed, and he reached over to check it before placing it back on the nightstand.

“Was that Jade?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she know you’re sick?”

“Yes.”

“Does she have rehearsals tonight?”

“No.”

“Is she coming?”

“No. Why would she come all the way here because I have a fever?”

I didn’t have an answer. I just knew that if my boyfriend were this sick, I would want to be with him. Maybe he’d downplayed it.

“What can I get you?”

“Nothing. Privacy. That’s what you can get me.”

“I’m getting you something to drink. I don’t care what you say. You’ll get dehydrated.”

“Make it a stiff one if you’re gonna continue playing nurse,” he yelled after me.

I went downstairs and returned with a bottle of water and a small towel.

Handing him the bottle and two Tylenol, I said, “Here. Drink up.” Justin swallowed the pills and took a sip before eyeing the wash cloth.

“What the hell are you going to do with that thing?”

“It’s a wet cloth.” I placed it on his forehead. “It will bring down the fever.”