There was enough room on the edge of the bed for her to sit down so she did so, clearing a space on the floor with her foot so that she could place her bag on something other than garbage. “Jack,” she said quietly, rubbing his back. He twitched at her touch but didn’t open his eyes. “Jack? It’s me, Cadence. I came, just like you asked.”

After a moment or so of patting his back, he finally began to rouse a bit. He rubbed at his eyes and rolled onto his side. “Cadence?” he said, as if he wasn’t sure exactly where she was.

“I’m right here, beside you,” she said. She gently guided him over so he was lying on his back, and she scooted up where he could see her better. “Jack, are you with me?” she asked.

He rubbed his eyes some more, blinking and trying to focus. Finally, he seemed to wake up enough to fully realize she was actually in his room, and he wasn’t dreaming. “Cadence? What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.

“You called me,” she explained. “A few hours ago. You called me and told me you were sick and asked me to come help you. Do you remember that?”

He seemed to think for a moment. “No,” he replied. “I don’t remember calling you at all.” He absently scrubbed at the top of his head with his hand and added, “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too,” she said smiling. “But you look awful. And you smell pretty bad, too. How long have you been feeling this way?”

“Thanks, Cadey; way to kick me when I’m down.” His voice was hoarse and weak, but she could still hear his personality coming through. “I don’t know. What’s today? Wednesday?”

“Wednesday? No, it’s Friday,” she clarified.

“Friday? No way; it can’t possibly be Friday. I have the first part of my Chem final Friday morning,” he said, glancing at the calendar hanging on the wall.

“Well, sweetheart, if that’s the case, you missed it. Because it is most definitely Friday,” she said with confidence.

“Ugh! This sucks! Now what am I going to do?” It appeared as if he was trying to sit up and couldn’t. Cadence put her hands back on his shoulders and pushed him down into the bed, noting how warm and clammy he felt.

“You’re not doing anything, except, perhaps, going to the doctor. Or a hospital. Babe, if you’re so sick you lost a day and half of your life, I think it’s time to go to the emergency room.” She kept her hands on his chest, ensuring he didn’t try to get up again.

“I’m really not that sick,” he started. “I just need to take some more medicine.”

“What kind of medicine were you taking?” she asked, glancing around the room and seeing plenty of trash but no medicine bottles.

“I ran out. I was taking Tylenol,” he explained.

“Tylenol? You were taking Tylenol for the flu or the Bubonic Plague or whatever it is that you have? No wonder you’re not getting any better. Sweetie, you need some antibiotics. Or a steroid shot or something. This does not look like an over-the-counter type of illness to me.”

“It’s not that serious,” he insisted. “I’m not even coughing or puking or anything. I just feel nauseated and sore, like I’ve been working out too hard. It’s nothing.”

“What if it’s spinal meningitis or mono? You have no idea, Jack; you’re not a doctor. Let’s go to the school clinic. They’ll be able to get you in.” She was persistent, and she could see that she almost had him convinced. “Come on, I’ll drive. Let’s get you dressed, and I’ll find your keys, somewhere, in this horrific mess.”

“My roommate is a slob.”

She didn’t buy his excuse. “Well, then tell your roommate to keep his giant pile of garbage on his own side of the room,” she remarked as she surveyed his desk top for keys. She glanced back at him and realized he wasn’t going to be able to dress himself. She wasn’t even sure he was going to be able to walk down the stairs to his car. “Jack?”

“Hmmm?” His eyes were closed, and she could see that he was dozing back off.

“That’s it, I’m calling an ambulance,” she said pulling her phone out of her pocket.

That got his attention. “No, no. No ambulance. I’ll get up. I’ll get dressed. Just help me find some clean clothes, okay?”

She held her hands out and spun around in a circle as if to say, “I see lots of clothes. None of them are clean.”

“Those jeans over there on the back of that chair aren’t too dirty,” he said pointing across the room, his eyes still closed.

Cadence had to be careful when she crossed the piles of trash to get to them, afraid she might twist an ankle or fall into the garbage, never to be seen or heard from again. She grabbed the jeans and glanced toward his closet, hoping she might see a sweater of some sort on a hanger. She saw his Shenandoah High sweatshirt hanging inside and decided he could just wear that. It was slightly easier for her to get to the sweatshirt because the closets were on his roommate’s side of the room.

When she crossed back over to the bed, she found he was dozing off again. “Jack?” she said. “Help me or else you’re going to the hospital.”

Once again, her threat was enough to get him to cooperate a bit more. He sat up tall enough that she could slide the sweatshirt over his head. He pushed his arms through the sleeves with minimal help. She was a little leerier of how she was going to get his pants on. “One leg at a time,” she murmured aloud.

“Huh?” he asked fading in and out again.

“It’s how you put your pants on—one leg at a time—just like everybody else.”

“Okay,” he said, starting to fall back down into the bed.

“Jack, dang it, come on now. Work with me here, kid.” She was able to get his pants up and over his hips finally. She buttoned them, zipped them, and began the search for shoes. “Any idea where your shoes are?” she asked.

Jack was out of it again, so she was left to search for shoes all by herself. She thought she saw one under his dresser, and as she was crossing over to dig it out, she got another message from Aaron. “How is he?”

Cadence was actually very glad to at least have someone to help calm her down and talk her through this. She was becoming exceedingly frustrated and wasn’t sure whether she should take Jack to a doctor or the emergency room. “Not good. He can’t even sit up. I’m not sure what to do. Hospital? Dr.?”

It took Aaron a few minutes to answer, but in the meantime, Cadence was finally able to locate the matching tennis shoes. “Jack,” she said, “where’s your wallet?” She was hopeful his insurance card would be in it and possibly some money or a credit card for the copay, although she could cover it if she needed to.

He clearly wasn’t going to answer so she began to rifle around looking for the wallet, which she eventually found under some wrappers on his dresser.

“Do you have transportation?”

She knew she had seen keys somewhere. Looking around again, she spotted them over by his laptop.

“Yes”

“Take him to Family Medical, 4501 Twenty-Seventh. Dr. Matthews will see him as soon as you can get him there.”

“What would I do without you? Thanks!”

“Sure. No problem. Once you get him settled let me know. I need to talk to you about a hunt you’re going on ASAP.”

She was surprised to see that he was even considering letting her go on a hunt again so soon, but she was glad to hear it. “Okay,” she replied.

There was the minor problem of not having any idea where Jack’s car might be. She needed to wake him up again just long enough to find out where he was parked. “Jack,” she said, sitting him up. “Where’s your car?”

He opened his eyes just a bit. “It’s outside,” he mumbled, “in the parking lot.”

She sighed. Nothing was ever easy. “Can you be a little more specific? Do you have an assigned parking spot?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, his head beginning to flop over again.

“And that spot is?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight! Perfect, we have a winner! Now, here’s to hoping there’s just one parking lot!” She checked her pockets to make sure she had her phone, and she grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She stuck his car keys and his wallet in her pants pockets. She didn’t see a set of room keys anywhere so she decided to leave the door ajar. It was risky, but a burglar could have just as easily taken all of their stuff while Jack was passed out on the bed.

Cadence knew she could easily carry him--that wasn’t going to be a problem. The problem would be making it look like she wasn’t carrying him. If they passed anyone and they could tell that she was actually carrying a 160-pound man, that would look rather odd.

When she went to stand him up, it jarred him back to consciousness a bit, and he started shuffling his feet. Unfortunately, with all of the trash on the floor, she ended up having to pick him up and carry him out of the room, but at least she could tell that he was attempting to work with her. By the time she reached the stairwell, he was awake enough to start to climb down the stairs with her. She still kept a firm grasp on him, just in case he started to lose his footing.

“Where are we going?” he asked as the cool December air blasted him in the face. She had been in too much of a hurry to think of grabbing him a coat, but it probably would have been a good idea considering he was already so sick.

“We’re going to the doctor,” she explained. “Is your car this way?”

There was only one parking lot nearby, and that’s the direction she was headed. He nodded, confirming she was taking him the right way.

“I don’t want to go to the doctor,” he whined.

“Well, you have to,” she said. She saw his bright red Nissan Sentra just a few rows away. “Come on! We’re almost there.” She didn’t see anyone else in the parking lot, so she picked him up off of the ground again and started carrying him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, coming back to consciousness again.

She put him down. “I’m just helping you to your car,” she explained.

“It felt like you were carrying me,” he said questioningly.

“Me? Carrying you? Don’t be ridiculous.” She helped him around to the passenger’s side, opened the door, and sat him down on the gray cloth seat. She buckled him in, closed the door, and then flashed around to the driver’s side, throwing her bag in the back.

This would be the first time that she had driven since her Transformation, and she was interested to see if she could drive as fast as everyone else. She had figured out how to access the police frequencies using her IAC, and she turned it on as she whipped out of the parking lot. “Well, if I kill us driving to the doctor, at least you won’t be sick anymore,” she said, just seeing if he was listening.

He chuckled and patted her absently on the leg, not even turning his head to look at her. She knew she should probably be worried that he was so sick, but she didn’t have time right now to be scared. She’d have to save that for later.