How ... did I get here?

"Zo?!" Mallory appears behind the curtain, along with my backpack. I don't have time to ponder on what's going on before she rushes to me and puts me in a chokehold of a hug.

"What the heck happened?!" she asks, hand on my jaw and she moves my head in every which way as she examines me. "Oh God, are you okay?!" she gasps. "Oh my God, do you know who I am?! Where are we right now?!! How many fingers am I holding up?!!?!"

"Mal, please!" I beg, for once needing a bit of breathing room from her. 

"Oh, phew, you do know me!" Mal sighs relieved, smiling like a proud mother. I think.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" I stare, very lost.

"Uh, because you might've hit your head so hard you woke up in a new reality!" Mal exasperates. "I know you've heard of those cases -- people get into comas and suddenly they come out the other side speaking Portuguese!" 

"Wait, back up, back up --" I wave my hand, pinching the bridge of my nose to think over this pounding headache. "When did I hit my head?"

"Dude, you totally fainted in the library!" Mal informs me. "Or that's what Havana told me, at least!"

"I -- what?" I shake my head. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember?" Mal looks at me worriedly.

"No... the last I remember is being in the Purgatory Room for tutoring," I answer. "We were talking about ... what were we talking about?"

"My God, Zo." Mal puts her face in her hands, the ribbons of her hair covering her curiosities like a night-black sky. She looks slowly up at me. There's something about the intensity that drives me wild but makes me feel incredibly guilty. "I looked up the sleep paralysis thing in that book. Have you been sleeping at all?"

My throat rivals the Sahara at that question. I haven't let on how bad my sleeping issues have been as of late, but only because I didn't think it was this bad. I've never passed out before in my life; now the uncomfortable crunch of hospital bed padding paper sits under me, forcing me to face the consequences. I pull nervously at my bracelet.

"Did you even sleep this weekend with everything that happened?" Mal asks.

"I mean," I start, looking away. "This weekend ... the last week and a half ... the last few months, it's all the same to me, heh." I'm not met with a response. "I mean, yeah what happened over the weekend was a special circumstance, but the other times was whatev --"

I halt when I look at Mal again. Her eyes well with tears and plip down her usually peachy cheeks. 

"How could I not notice..." she cries in her hands. "I'm a horrible best friend!" 

Not even Cupid's arrow could have a piercing force as strong as guilt. 

"Don't say that, you are not!" I semi-shout. "Why would ever think that?"

"I should've paid more attention!" Mal wails. "You've been like this forever, and I'm over here like 'Oh well that's Zo for ya! Always working hard!' when you're practically killing yourself!" 

"Woah!" I blink. "Mal, it's not like that --"

"But it is! Where do I get off complaining about my dumb sister when you have to deal with your dyscalculia and your freaking Mom and your sick Dad all alone?" she chokes on the last word from the aggressive sniffling. I can't even wrap my head around any of this -- Mal, my Mal. This is all my fault! 

"I haven't been alone!" I rebut, now feeling the dam cracking. "You let the librarians know the other day about my condition! You're the one who's always pushing me to -- to even be here!" Oh, now I'm crying. "I've never been alone because I have you! That word isn't even in my word bank when it comes to you!"

"What if you pass out again and I'm not there?!" Mal sobs. "I-I mean, what am I gonna do th-then?!"

"You've already done everything!" I interject. "You always do everything for me, even when things are beyond your control." I shut my eyes and grip the bed. "I'm not me without you!"

Mal hics, I hic -- there are so many hics occurring from our shaky, achy chests you would've thought we were from Alabama. Mal wipes her eyes and looks me down.

"Well, I'm not me without you, either," she reciprocates. "I can't lose you, Zo. The thought of it -- like, no! I don't have anybody else."

This sounds all too familiar. 

Oh. It's the conversation I had with Havana pleading my case to let me in her good graces again. That argument would work in favor of a nobody like myself, but Mallory? Sugar in human form? I don't know how she's even dealt with me, let alone the world. Everyone loves Mal, how could they not?

"What do you mean?" I plainly ask. 

"I mean I have the devil incarnate of a sibling, my parents are cool I guess but they're old so they don't understand --"

I have to stifle a chuckle at that. Sorry, paman dan bibi.

"But what about everyone else? The theater kids, student council -- kind of -- the gaming club, even?"

"What about them?" Mal reverses on me. "They're great and all but I don't know them like that. Honestly, I only ever speak to them if you're not around because it fills up some kind of void, like 5th period. If we had a 5th period together, I wouldn't talk to anyone else but you!"

Oh no. I'm the horrible best friend. Of course, everyone loves Mal, and Mal cares for everyone, but it doesn't mean they've ever been more than acquaintances. Everyone but ...

"What about Havana?" I ask. God, how does she keep appearing in my head for these?!

"Havana is wonderful," Mal starts. "You know she carried you all the way over here?"

"Oh..." I groan. As if the prospect of fainting in front of my tutor/crush's crush/popular girl wasn't embarrassing enough. What is this, some sort of sitcom?

"But she isn't you," Mal continues. "No one is. Someone who keeps me grounded and at the same will nerd out with me over the silliest things," she huffs a twitchy smile. "Someone I can tell everything to. The sister I've always wanted when I get down to it."

Had it not been for that last line, this would've totally played out like a love confession. Selfishly, it makes me twitch a bit at the "sister" bit, but it's not like she's wrong. You don't just grow up together almost your whole life and not form some sort of bond. It just happens in our case that we formed more than a bond -- we're pretty much intertwined. Maybe as I started to like her, seeing her as anything less than a gift from God put her on this ... pedestal I wasn't aware of. I needed her cheery, all-thrills confidence to counteract my isolated, business-forward gloom. 

And even when I say that, I know I'm a terrible friend because I continue to do the one thing she hates most: hurt myself. By words, by not taking care of myself, and by this internal struggle with my yearning. 

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Mm?"

"I'm so sorry," I sob. "I'll do better, I promise! I'll sleep until I morph into a sloth! I'll eat until I spontaneously combust! I'll be so damn positive about myself so you won't have to worry about me anymore, okay?!"

Mal blinks, the dew on her eyelashes remaining intact. Then she giggles.

"I'm always gonna worry about you, Zo," she shakes her head. "I want to worry about you. Preferably when you're conscious!"

I giggle a bit at that. "How do you put up with me?"

"I don't put up with someone I love," Mal flips it. Right then, the curtain swooshes open again, jolting us both.

"That's sweet, but it's already 5:30," the school nurse, Mrs. Kolacia, drones on. The smacking of her gum makes me squirm. "Your mother should be on the way soon, surely."

"M-my mom?" I blink rapidly. Crap, of course, she's obligated to tell Mom that I passed out. My stomach flips wildly.

"I'll walk out with you," Mal offers, getting up from the bed and lending her hand to me. "We can take the scenic route if you want."

I smile. The scenic route means a walk around the entire school to waste time. How could she ever think for one second that she's ever failed me? I take her hand and grip tight when I almost fall to my knees. Whew, I really, really need sleep. 

And evidently, a meal.

--------------------------------------------

My temperature reads 100.7 F. I guess my delirium wasn't just from a lack of sleep. Mom makes me two turkey, cheese, and tomato sandwiches for dinner, which I wash down with a nice cold glass of water. She said I should have a light enough meal to not induce any vomit, but filling enough to get me to sleep. There are many advantages and disadvantages to having a nurse for a mother, but unlike Nurse Kolacia, my mom takes her role on and off duty very seriously. At times when she cares for me, I feel like a patient, down to the stethoscope and everything. Her other patients, however, don't get tucked into bed and feel the warmth of her honest working hands turned motherly on their cheeks. 

As I start to fall asleep, the house phone starts ringing. Mom is always quick to pick up the call, so I resume well enough until she knocks on my door, then proceeds to come in anyway. Didn't even give me a chance to hum a signal. 

"It's for you," Mom hands me the phone. My eyes blink at two different intervals and on command, a yawn bellows from me. It's not so late -- only 7:34 -- but Mallory must've sensed I'm headed off to Dreamland early.

"Hello?" I speak groggily.

"Zo?" I jump up from my bed, startling Mom. 

"Um, yeah ... hello," I try to sound as normal as possible so she doesn't get suspicious, but also to conceal my shock.

"Hey, it's Havana," Havana speaks on the phone. "Sorry, I know it's a little weird!" I don't say anything. I don't know what to say. Why is Havana freaking Sommers calling my house phone?!

"Maybe a little," I agree. 

"Yeah, I came over to the Setiawan's after what happened because I promised Jhene I'd watch her prep for her cheer competition next week," Havana explains. "And I figured while I'm still over here I should check in on you. Are you doing okay?"

"Oh, yeah I'm fine," I tell her. "Well, kind of -- I'm a little sick, so ..."

"That sucks, sorry to hear that," Havana sympathizes.

"No biggie, just a fever and a headache ultimately," I explain. 

"Well, that's not too bad, I guess," Havana sighs in relief. We pause for a moment, almost routine at this point.

"Uh -- right, um ... thank you for taking me to the nurse's office," I say finally. "I hope it wasn't too much of a burden."

"Not a burden at all," Havana says. "You're honestly pretty light."

"I don't just mean that," I sigh, rolling my eyes. "I mean like, everything. I was honestly pretty checked out at our session today --" Mom looks at me, cocking an eyebrow. Shit, uh ... "Y-you know, our Student Council session?"

"Wait, what --"

"Nevermind that, um ..." I think on what to say. "I feel pretty embarrassed about it all, and I hope I didn't do anything weird leading up to, well, that."

"You didn't," Havana tells me. 

"Really? You can tell me if I did, I won't be mad," I labor on, hoping to rip the bandaid off.

"You didn't do anything weird, promise!" Havana reassures me. "I'm just glad you're okay more than anything. And hey, at least you have more time to study since you won't be in tomorrow. Or, are you?"

"First off, thank you," I say again. "Second, I'm not sure yet. All depends on my body I guess." Mom is giving me a look of "time's up", so I have to make this quick. "I've got to go, so ... yeah, bye --"

"Wait!" Havana stops me. 

"Y-yes?" I answer.

"I have my first math decathlon meeting on Friday, and I want to study up a lot so ..." Havana informs me. I guess that means no tutoring, then.

"Yeah, I understand," I say quickly, hoping my tone of "hurry up!" translates. "Okay, bye now --"

"You should come!" Okay, this fever is something else. 

"Sure ..." I say, playing along with the delusion. "Now really, bye!" I quickly hang up the phone and hand it to Mom. 

"If you weren't ill, I would've let you talk more," Mom tells me. "That Mallory ... she's a good one, ah?"

"Y-yeah, so good!" I feign, giving her a thumbs up. I semi-exaggerate a yawn before I say something I won't remember. "Night, Mom."

"Well wishes, my precious daughter," Mom speaks softly as she closes the door behind her. Precious daughter. Me, precious daughter? I snuggle in my blankets closer to hold on to that closely. I almost forgot Havana called me. Almost.

My left and right brains argue about the perks and consequences of being ill.