A Day Off
The loud ringing of my phone alarm cut through my deep sleep, clashing with Bernard's urgent barking. I let out a low groan as I felt the dull pain behind my eyes and the ache in my left thigh. Even my soft coral comforter, which usually felt cozy, now felt heavy and suffocating.
I must have overdone it at practice yesterday, I thought to myself, trying to ignore the discomfort.
With a reluctant swipe, I turned off the annoying alarm and sank back into my bed. A strange silence filled the house, making me wonder why I hadn’t heard Stetson making his usual morning noise. Just as I started to drift off again, the door to my room burst open.
Stetson stood there, leaning against the doorframe with his backpack hanging awkwardly on one shoulder, its unzipped opening spilling out a mess of books and papers. He was spinning his keys on his finger.
“Hey, Sleeping Beau -” he started, but his greeting faltered as he noticed me still under the covers. His playful expression quickly turned into one of concern, which I recognized well. Normally, I’d be the one waiting impatiently by the door, already dressed, waiting for him to get ready. Why hadn’t anyone woken me up?
"Are you okay?" he inquired, his voice now gentle, lacking any hint of teasing.
I mumbled something unclear, my words heavy with sleep. In just two quick steps, he crossed the honey oak floor, his hand softly resting on my forehead. The coolness of his touch was a stark contrast to the warmth coming from my skin.
From his usual place by the bed, Bernard made a small, anxious whimper, his dark eyes focused on me.
"You’re really hot!" Stetson said, his forehead creasing as he felt my forehead. He grabbed his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. "I’m calling Dad - or Pops - whoever picks up first."
I shook my head slightly, which made my head throb even more. "They’re already at work," I mumbled, my words feeling heavy and awkward.
Stetson paused, his fingers fidgeting with his phone. He looked from the phone to me, a silent struggle visible on his face.
"I can skip school," he suggested, his voice full of real worry. Even though having him around made me feel a bit better, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. "No," I said, my voice a bit firmer this time. "You have that Physics test today. You’ve been studying for it all week."
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Okay," he said, but there was still a trace of worry on his face. "I’ll tell Ms. Troyer that you won’t be coming in and I’ll grab your assignments for you." He bent down to pet Bernard, making a soft ruffling noise that broke the stillness of the room. "Just call or text me if you need anything, okay?" After giving me one last concerned look, he turned to leave, leaving the door a bit open. The sound of his footsteps fading away was the last thing I heard before the room fell silent.
The soft light coming through my blinds made it clear that a big part of the day had slipped away. My throat felt dry and scratchy as I squinted at the dim afternoon light. Bernard was missing from his usual spot at the end of the bed, and his absence made the room feel even quieter. Then, I heard a familiar noise coming from the great room: the steady sound of game controllers clicking, mixed with the occasional frustrated sigh. It had to be Stetson and Chandler. A burst of laughter from Chandler, followed by Stetson saying in a playful tone, 'That was unfair, dude!' confirmed my guess. They were totally into a virtual soccer game, probably FIFA 22.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers a bit clumsy. The screen lit up, showing a bunch of missed texts from my friends and several calls from Dad and Pops. They could wait for now. Honestly, just thinking about their worried voices was a lot to handle.
I pushed the heavy blanket off and swung my legs over the bed. A wave of dizziness hit me, so I paused for a moment until it passed before finally standing up. The cool wooden floor felt nice under my bare feet. Each step was a bit of a struggle as I walked down the hallway towards the stairs, drawn in by the familiar sounds of life coming from downstairs.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I could hear the game commentary and the fast clicks of the controllers getting louder. Stetson and Chandler were just like I imagined, lying on the floor in front of the huge TV, their faces lit up by the bright screen. A crumpled bag of salt and vinegar chips was between them like a trophy from a battle, and a sweating soda can was about to leave a ring on the coffee table's nice wood finish.
"Who's winning?" I asked, still feeling sleepy.
My voice caught Chandler's attention, and he looked up at me with his bright blue eyes. "Hey. Nice to see you finally came down," he said with a playful grin.
Stetson, though, was still focused on the game. "Almost scored, wait!" he shouted, his thumbs moving quickly on the controller. He waved at me without even looking up.
I dragged myself over to the nearest loveseat and sank into the comfy, slate blue cushions. The familiar smell of the layered rug, which had a subtle geometric design in rust, navy, and cream, filled the air. Bernard walked around my feet once before plopping down with a soft thud, his dark, almond-shaped eyes looking at me with concern.
Chandler nudged Stetson with his elbow, silently asking a question with his eyes. "Dude," he mouthed, raising his eyebrows.
Stetson finally leaned back with a dramatic sigh, tossing his controller onto the slate-colored sofa next to him. He focused entirely on me, his bright blue eyes, speckled with green, studying me for a moment longer than needed. "Feeling any better?" he asked, his usual upbeat tone mixed with real worry.
I nodded, a real smile finally breaking through the haze. "Yeah," I said quietly. "I just needed some sleep to feel better."
Chandler stretched his legs out, crossing his ankles. "Well," he said slowly, looking at me with that warm gaze that always made my stomach flutter. "Now the fun can really start."
Bernard abruptly leaped to his feet, his fluffy white tail thrashing against the dark wood of the coffee table in a whirlwind of enthusiasm. A sharp, jubilant bark pierced through the fading sounds of the video game, prompting me to direct my attention toward the kitchen, a silent inquiry forming in my mind. Had Stetson finally succeeded in scoring?
Before I could fully comprehend the change in the room's ambiance, Stetson let out a dramatic groan, tossing his controller onto the slate-colored sofa. "No way!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his tousled dirty blonde hair. "That last shot was definitely in!"
Chandler reclined against the sofa, stretching his arms lazily behind his head. A self-satisfied grin spread across his freckled face. "Oh, was it?" he drawled, his cerulean blue eyes glinting with mischief. With a theatrical shrug, he added, "It seems the scoreboard disagrees, my friend."
I let out a soft laugh as I finally woke up. Just as Stetson was about to start one of his long excuses, Bernard barked loudly, running in circles by the kitchen entrance. Then, I caught a whiff of something delicious - a mix of gooey cheese and strong garlic. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t had a real meal all day.
Pops came in from the mudroom, his light hair shining in the afternoon sun. He was carrying two big pizza boxes stacked on top of two smaller ones. "Dinner's here!" he said cheerfully.
Bernard whined softly, scratching at the kitchen counter. I got up from the loveseat, my legs a bit wobbly as I headed toward the yummy smells. Stetson and Chandler followed me, with Stetson rolling his shoulder like he was trying to loosen up.
Pops set the boxes down on the granite island, dramatically lifting the lids. "Buffalo Chicken," he announced, tapping the first box, which is my favorite. "Deluxe, with extra olives," he said, pushing the second box toward Chandler. "And for the dynamic duo," he pointed to the smaller boxes, "cheesy stuffed bread.
I grabbed some paper plates and napkins, along with the familiar bottle of Ranch dressing. Stetson's arm brushed against mine as he reached for the cold sodas in the fridge, and I felt a comfortable closeness between us.
"Are you feeling any better, sunshine?" Pops asked, his bright green eyes showing concern. I nodded, and my stomach let out a low growl, almost like it was answering for me. He smiled and gently ruffled my hair before swiping a shiny black olive from Chandler's pizza.
"Unbelievable," Chandler said, shaking his head in playful disbelief. "You can't even trust a guy with his own pizza!"
Stetson chuckled as he took a slice of the buffalo chicken.
When I took the first bite of the spicy, tangy chicken mixed with creamy cheese, I felt an amazing rush of happiness. The noise of their playful arguing turned into a soothing background sound.
Bernard laid his chin on my knee, looking up at me with his big, dark eyes that seemed to ask for something.
I couldn't help but smile a little. "No way, pal," I said gently, already grabbing another piece.
I felt a wave of happiness wash over me after finishing my second buffalo chicken piece and a cheesy breadstick. The earlier discomfort was replaced by a nice sense of fullness. I tossed my crumpled paper plate and napkin into the trash can nearby and settled back onto the cool leather barstool, watching Stetson, Pops, and Chandler finish the last slices of pizza.
With his usual energy, Stetson pushed away from the island and dashed into the great room. Moments later, he came back, tossing my forgotten homework packet right onto my lap. We shared a silent moment of understanding, a mix of playful teasing and genuine care.
"You should really start on that," Pops said softly, his bright green eyes sparkling with gold flecks as he began cleaning the white marble island. The air filled with the fresh, zesty scent of lemon cleaner.
"Need some help with that?" Chandler said, his bright blue eyes locking onto mine, a comforting warmth shining through. Normally, I handled my school assignments on my own, and my grades showed how independent I was. But the time I had missed due to this annoying sickness made me feel lost, and his offer felt like a real rescue. "Sure," I replied softly, the response coming out surprisingly smoothly. "That would really help."
The cozy feeling of Chandler being there wrapped around me as we entered the big room. Stetson, already partway up the stairs, shouted something about Call of Duty before vanishing from sight. "If you need anything, just shout," Pops told Chandler and me before heading to his office.
Chandler started to spread my messy papers across the dark coffee table. The light smell of lemon cleaner was still in the air, mixing nicely with the leftover scent of garlic and cheese. I pulled out my heavy textbooks from my backpack. "Which school adventure should we tackle first?" he asked, a fun sparkle in his bright blue eyes.
"Algebra II," I groaned, running my fingers through my hair. "That section on quadratic functions seems like it's in some ancient language."
Chandler let out a soft laugh. "Okay then," he said with a smile, his laid-back vibe shining through. "Let’s dive into quadratic equations. Get ready to uncover their secrets."
An hour later, I finally finished the last page of the Algebra II chapter. My eyes felt so heavy, and each blink took longer than the last. I mentally sighed at the thought of two more subjects to tackle, Physics and US Government, which felt like climbing a small mountain. But with Chandler’s calm focus next to me, I felt reassured and knew I had to keep pushing forward.