“I found a person.”

“Why hello Tea, how are you? Fine thanks. And you?” Tea says. 

“Right. Hello. All of that.”

“See? Not so hard. We’ll make a fully functional human of you yet. So, tell me all about your person. What’s their name? Where did you meet?”

“Jesse. We met in the dorm.”

“Ooh! I told you to go to the mingle. Tea for the win!”

“Not there. In the hallway the next morning. I dropped books on his head.”

Tea laughs. “Not a great start, maybe. But whatever. What’s he like?”

“He’s short. He’s Filipino. And he is a dance major. He doesn’t think I’m an ass.”

Tea coughs. “Well, that’s a good start. Although it doesn’t say much for his intelligence.”

“Hanging up now,” I say.

Tea laughs. “Kidding. What else?”

“I don’t know. He has friends who are good to him. He smiles a lot. He’s not interested in science or math. But that’s okay. I’m surrounded by people who like science and math, and I don’t really like any of them. Including Chem. Especially Chem. 

“Her name is Finesse, by the way. She’s black. That is not why I don’t like her. And it isn’t because she smells like dryer lint either. I don’t like her because she likes it when people feel bad.” Finesse isn’t quite a bully, but she comes close.

“Jesse never makes people feel bad. He knows how to talk to everyone in a way that makes them feel welcome. Although he is weirdly affectionate, and I think he has to touch people when he talks to them.”

“How’s that going for you,” Tea asks, barely holding back yet more laughter. “All that touchy feely stuff driving you crazy?”

Before I can answer, there is a knock on the door. Jesse. It must be lunch time. “Sorry, gotta go,” I tell Tea before pocketing my phone. 

I must’ve stood up too fast because the room spins.

“You coming to lunch?” Jesse asks when I open the door.

Up until that moment, I was fully planning on following him to the cafeteria, but now the world is still tilting and the words that come out of my mouth instead are: “Not hungry.”

Jesse pouts. “So I have to eat by myself?”

I scoff. “I doubt you’ll be by yourself. You are never in danger of being alone.” Even if his tight circle isn’t there, Jesse always finds people.

“Wait, did you say you’re not hungry?” Jesse does a belated double-take. “What’s wrong with you!” He feels my forehead. His hand feels wonderfully cool against my skin.

“You’re burning up.”

“I do feel a bit…” I sway on my feet. I swear five minutes earlier I felt fine. Now I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Headache, fever, weak as hell…

Jesse looks worried. “Wait here. No, lie down.” He walks me over to my bed. 

“I’m not tired,” I say. But I am. I’m exhausted. It came on so suddenly I didn’t realize.

“Of course you’re not tired.” Jesse says. “Don’t be an infant. Now lie down.” He’s kind of scary in this nurturing mode of his. “Good. Under the covers.” Fierce.

“Are you kidding? Under the covers?” I feel like it’s a hundred degrees in the room already.

“You have a fever. You need to sweat it out,” he says.

“I don’t think that’s true.” I shake my head. “ That can’t be right.”

“Tell that to my Filipino grandmother. Better yet, don’t. You might not survive the lecture. Stay here. I’m going to find a thermometer and some medicine. Unless you have either of those things lying around?”

I shake my head. I don’t usually get sick. 

“Keys so I can get back in?” Jesse says.

I point at the dresser. Before he leaves, he tucks the blankets around me so I am in my own sweltering cocoon. I try to shake the covers off once he leaves, but I can’t figure out how to escape, and only become more tightly entangled. 

I think I drift off for a bit because It seems like Jesse is back in no time at all. He looks very serious as he opens the white bag from the pharmacy and takes out the thermometer. “Open.” He sticks it under my tongue. 

At the sound of the beep I read my temperature at 102.

“Here. Sit up.” Jesse puts some pillows behind me—stealing from Matt’s unused bed. He hands me a steaming mug of something. The smell burns in my nostrils. 

“What is this?”

“Hot honey and ginger.” 

I take a sip and it feels like my throat is dissolving. Maybe not that bad. But it is strong. 

“Really what my grandma would prescribe is tying some herbs to your head. But somehow I didn’t think you’d put up with that. Plus I don’t have the right ingredients.”

“Yeah. I’d rather not have a leafy crown. It doesn’t sound comfortable. Good call.” I swallow the handful of pills he hands me. “I hope I didn’t down a bunch of street drugs.”

Jesse pats my hand gently. “Of course not. Now try and get some sleep.”

I drift in and out all afternoon. Whenever I wake, Jesse is there to get me a fresh glass of water or encourage me to eat a few crackers. He has thankfully relented on the whole sweat-it-out plan. I’m free of my blanket prison. He lays a cool washcloth on my forehead. 

“Ahhh. This is what my grandma would prescribe,” I tell him as he lifts my arm and sponges it off with a damp cloth. I shiver as the air hits my damp skin. But when Jesse stops, I put my hand over his. “No, please. It helps.”

Jesse keeps the cloth cool by dipping it in a bowl of water. I’ve no idea where the bowl came from. 

He takes my temperature again. I’m not sure what it is, but he doesn’t look happy. “I’m staying the night,” he says. 

I am in no condition to argue. Plus, Jesse is still in his scary nurturing mode. I’m afraid to contradict him.