‘What a joy’ I thought with resignation. It was just my luck to have it first thing in the morning every Tuesday.

 When it came to history the two of us had never gotten along. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't get myself interested. I mean, everything we learnt about had already happened. What was the point of learning about it now? It was over with. 

Sam and I soon arrived at our class after only a couple of minutes, having already been nearby when the bell first rang. We quickly took our seats in our usual bright blue plastic chairs that surrounded the far left table. Our backs pressed against one of the murky yellow walls covered with information about certain historical events that I had never bothered to read. As we sat down and I got my books and pens out of my bag a sudden sense of vertigo smashed through me. 

The room started to spin around me, slowly picking up speed and soon followed by as sense of nausea that grew stronger and stronger. I shut my eyes tightly, a groan leaving my throat as I forcibly tried to shut out my surroundings. Just as I felt I was at my limit, with no other option than to throw up the pitiful amount of food I still had stored in my stomach from yesterday, through my closed eyes, I felt my surroundings start to slow down, along with the apparent nausea that came with it. 

After waiting a couple of seconds, focusing on my breathing to ensure my stomach was under control, I opened my eyes. The moment I did so I was blinded by the luminescent lights that hung from above, their constant buzzing seeming even louder than usual and worsening my pounding migraine. I looked around, seeing if anyone had noticed my bizarre episode. Thankfully no one did. Wiping a hand across my forehead and hair, I noticed a thin layer of sweat that had built up across it despite the biting cold I had felt all morning.

“Hey, you alright? You look a little peaky?” I turned to my side to see Sam looking towards me in worry. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’m just a little ill. Probably got a cold or flu or something. Just my luck, huh.” I shrugged nonchalantly, suddenly filled with a sense of exhaustion that replaced the previous nausea and vertigo.

Sam simply peered at me with an unblinking stare for what felt like a lifetime in response. His mouth drew into a thin line and his eyebrows scrunched so tight they were almost touching. As if trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. Apparently satisfied with his findings, his features eventually relaxed. 

“If you're sure. Just make sure to stay the hell away from me. No need for you to drag me down with you.” He joked, leaning back away and avoiding the swat I had aimed at his shoulder.

I smiled back, amused at his antics before continuing to bring out all my stationary, doing my best to ignore how awful I was already starting to feel once again while waiting for the teacher, Mr Walker, to arrive. Which he did only a couple of minutes later, bringing to a start the worst lesson I had ever had to sit through. 

As I mentioned, history was already my least favourite subject, followed closely by geography and maths. Add to that a constant banging headache that seemed to worsen with Mr Walker’s inane rambling and a sense of nausea that seemed to come and go like the passing of the tide and you can imagine how awful I felt. By the end of the lesson, as Sam and I were getting ready to head to our next class, I truly felt like I was dying. And with the way Sam was looking at me, I probably looked like it too.

“Mate you should really go get yourself checked out. You look like you're dying,” he stated, right on cue. “If your skin was any paler it would look translucent.”

“I’ll be alright, I’ll just power through till the end of the day. I can't imagine I can get much worse.” I said dismissively and with an amount of confidence, I didn’t truly feel.

As if planned beforehand, I felt the sudden build-up of a cough in the centre of my chest start to form before it was fiercely ejected a few seconds later. My breathing shortened and a dull ache started to grow in strength in my chest with each sickening wheeze and hack I was forced to let out, leaving my throat feeling raw and scarred. In my debilitated state, I tried to quieten the noise with the crux of my arm but had no such luck, unable to block the repugnant noises I released that could no doubt be heard from outside the classroom.

This carried on for what felt like minutes but couldn’t have been more than one. By the end, my throat was burning in agony and my lungs were screaming for respite. The metallic taste of blood made itself known at the back of my throat, the taste growing in strength with each cough. 

As the phlegm-filled wheezes finally started to slow, I took a series of short, shallow breaths, doing my best to not agitate my lungs further. Once I finally managed to calm down I looked back up through teary eyes to see Sam, half out of his seat, looking at me in worry.

“Really I’m fine. Like I said, I’m just ill. I’ll probably be better by lunch.” I whispered, my voice raspy and grated.

It didn’t take a genius to see Sam didn’t quite share my level of confidence. He went to open his mouth before deciding against it as he reluctantly went back to grabbing his stationary and bag with a shake of his head, muttering something under his breath. The words stubborn and fool were the only ones I heard.

Fast forward two more lessons later, double mathematics to be specific, and I realised how wrong I was. The constant cold that had sunk into my bones seemed to have doubled in strength to a glacial chill, causing my body to be incapable of anything but shivering erratically despite having sat down directly by the radiator. The migraine too had blown in proportion, making any sound above a whisper equivalent to a jackhammer; not ideal in a school environment to say the least. I felt as if I was becoming delirious, which when mixed with the occasional bouts of vertigo made my surroundings feel almost dream-like.

By the time the class was coming to a close, my head was resting firmly against the solid wood table as I counted the seconds until it would be over. Letting out a cheer in celebration when I heard the bell screech once more, signifying the start of lunch. Or at least I would have if it didn’t almost knock me out in the process. As I sat there, motionless, Sam had to all but drag me out of my chair. His arm wrapped around my waist, allowing me to lean on him for support as we headed to the cafeteria for lunch. It was times like these when I could have sworn he was an angel in disguise.

“That's it, I'm not asking anymore. You're going to go to the nurses pronto, if not the hospital. You’re starting to get me bloody worried mate.” he said seriously, no longer in the mood for jokes.

Usually, I would have simply declined. Instead heading back home to rest by myself until whatever I had eventually passed,  having always hated asking for or receiving help, even from qualified medical personnel. However, with the way I felt I was starting to think that this might have been something a tad more serious than just the common flu. 

“You're right,” I mumbled as I stared at the moving floor beneath me. “I’ll go to the nurses. But first let's go to the cafeteria. I really need to get some food in me. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.” 

As I did my best to control my breathing, which was still coming out in short rapid bursts, I could tell that Sam wanted to argue. Although based on the fact we soon changed directions and started heading towards the cafeteria I assumed he agreed that I needed to eat. 

We entered the cafeteria with surprising ease, everyone around us giving us plenty of space, along with a handful of wary glances as if I was somehow carrying a deadly plague. Although, with how I felt that couldn’t be ruled out as a possibility. Sam, in a surprising feat of dexterity and strength, grabbed both of us a lunch tray while still all but carrying me, filling them up quickly as we marched along in sync with the rest of the student body. Who monotonously marched forward through the line as if they were zombies. 

Once we received our food, which with a glance seemed to be an attempt at a cottage pie. We looked around, searching for a free table. A difficult task with how small the school had decided to make the cafeteria. A room that seemed to only be able to fit half the student body at a time. Thankfully, it seemed my luck was finally turning around as we, or more specifically Sam, was able to spot a free table near the far end wall. A table that was as far away as possible from the entrance that continued to spew forward an almost indefinite number of students. 

As we sat down, or slumped in my case, I looked towards the lunch tray Sam set delicately in front of me. Immediately I realised how terrible this idea might have been. Even on a good day the idea of a school lunch did nothing but evoke resignation and disappointment, an impressive feat saying it was usually the only meal I actually ate in a day. However, when ill, all I felt when staring towards the gruel-like meal placed before me was a mixture of revulsion and dread. 

While I stared in disgust at the substance the school dared to call food, pushing it around from side to side with my fork, a loud sigh came from in front carrying a tinge of annoyance. “Adam, I swear to god. Stop acting like a petulant child and eat, you need the nutrients and energy.”

“Whatever you say, mum.” I drawled sarcastically, “Don’t blame me then when it comes back up and I aim myself towards that precious coat of yours”. 

“Eat.”

Knowing he was right I let out a depressed sigh, steeling my nerves while I did so in preparation to try and keep this food down, a herculean task. I ate with a focus I rarely displayed, as if my very life was on the life; which it basically was. My social life that was. If I threw up in front of almost the entire school then I would literally become a social pariah, even more so than I already was.

As I got halfway through, feeling worse and worse with each methodical bite I took, and prepared to call it quits, I heard a voice echo from behind me and pass through the dense fog my mind was currently surrounded by. A snide, obnoxious voice that I knew all too well. Reluctantly I turned around, facing the group of three who stood only a few metres away. Specifically the teenager who stood in the centre with a mocking smirk hanging on his face.