Lunch was coming to an end and I still had no message from him, letting me know he was awake. I wasn't sure if he was still really sleeping or not texting me because he thought I would skip classes to go see him.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back," Daisy said before standing up and leaving.

I sighed, staring at my blank phone screen and then the soup in front of me. After a lot of groveling and begging, I had the lunch lady go and make this soup for him. It's a special soup. My parents always make it for me when I'm sick so I thought why not make some for him.

"You know, if you ask the principal for the keys to his room, I'm sure she'll give them to you."

I looked up at Wyatt. "Huh?"

"I mean come on, you even had soup made for him. You have to go see him now," he teased.

"What if he's still sleeping?"

"Then you can wake him up. Because he hasn't eaten since this morning. And he barely had some cereal then too. He needs to eat."

"But Daisy—"

"Then you best get going before she comes back," he chuckled.

"You just want to be alone with her," I smirked, standing up. "But thanks for the idea, bye," I waved and then started running to the principal's office, squeezing through the busy hallways, occasionally bumping into people. I knocked on the principal's door, catching my breath.

"Come in!"

I opened the door and saw her eating her lunch. Alone. I frowned.

"Yes?" she cleared her throat.

"Um, sorry. Hi, I was wondering if I could get the spare keys to Callum's room? Just for now. He's actually sick and someone needs to wake him up so he can eat. I'm done with my classes for today so I thought I could do it," I shrugged.

"The spare keys?"

"I'll give them back, promise," I said quickly.

She nodded slowly, wheeling her chair back and opening the drawer. She scanned it and then found the keys, handing them to me. "Here," she smiled.

"Principal Michelle, if you don't mind me asking, why aren't having lunch with the other teachers in the staff room?"

"Even adults can be bad at making friends, honey," she chuckled. Her eyes fell to the soup. "What's that?"

"Oh, I had some soup made for him. It's like a remedy. My parents used to make it for me, mostly my uh... mom."

She nodded in understanding. "You best get it to him while it's still hot."

"Right," I chuckled, turning to leave. I stopped at the door. "Mr. Robert speaks very highly of you. I'm sure you two can be friends," I said.

"Mr. Robert? From the languages department?"

I nodded, "Enjoy your day." And then I left.

It's true. Multiple times in our classes, Mr. Robert ends up telling a story about the principal or talking about the principal. Maybe he likes her, who knows, honestly?

I rushed to the stairs and started running.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" Finn chuckled, blocking my way. Thank god none of his friends are here.

"Move," I huffed.

"Or what, new girl?"

"Here, hold this." I handed him the soup.

He looked at it in confusion while I grabbed my water bottle, opening it and drinking some. "What the—"

I took the soup back and then emptied out my water bottle on his head.

"Are you crazy?!" he yelled, catching everyone's attention.

"You weren't moving. I'm just trying to make you. Will you move now? The soup is next," I grinned.

He glared at me, stepping aside.

I ran past him, going all the way to our floor without a break. It's safe to say my legs were killing me by the time I got there. I caught my breath while walking to his room. I knocked on the door first to see if he was awake but when no one answered, I used the key and opened it.

It was still dark here. Which means he's sleeping.

I walked over to his desk and put the soup down, then put my bag on the floor, and then I opened the curtains just a bit.

He shuffled in bed, turning over.

I walked to him, sitting down. "Callum."

He groaned, hiding under the blanket.

"Hello," I sang, ruffling his hair.

"What?" he asked, his voice sounding a little scratchy and hoarse.

"Wake up, come on." I stood up, grabbing the soup and removing the lid, unfolding the spoon. "Look, I got you soup to make you feel better." I stood beside him, nudging his hip with mine. "Come on, get up now. It's the perfect remedy for your fever and bad throat." I sighed, putting the soup on his nightstand. I sat back down. "Callum," I said softly, shaking him. I rubbed his arm, "Wake up now."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and then looking at me over his shoulder. "What are you doing here?" he mumbled.

"It's lunch. You need to have something."

"I'm not hungry," he whined, closing his eyes again.

"I got you the best soup you will ever taste, just have a little bit. Then you can go back to sleep, I swear."

He sighed again and then rolled over to face me. "You're really here instead of having lunch with Daisy?" he asked while scooting up, sitting against the headboard. He winced, hitting his palm on the side of his head.

I pulled his hand away. "Don't do that. You might make it worse. What's wrong with you?" I asked, handing him the bowl and spoon.

"I never get sick," he huffed. "But I'm sick."

I looked him up and down. "You have cold sweats forming," I mumbled, wiping my thumb over his eyebrow that indeed had cold sweats. "You're getting better. Hopefully, that helps. And anyway, I already had my lunch."

"What time is it?" he asked, stirring the soup.

"Lunch will be over soon. And I have no classes after that so here I am, taking care of you! Oh, I got you all the work from classes today and I already sent you pictures of my notes," I explained while getting up to open my bag and take out all the worksheets. I put them in a pile on his desk and saw a rose. "Another one? When did you get this?" I chuckled, picking it up, noticing that there was a piece of the stem missing.

"Last night," he cleared his throat.

I put it back and then turned to look at him. "You went to the balcony last night, didn't you? In the rain?"

"Yeah, so?"

"What was so important that you had to go in the rain? It couldn't wait?"

"No, it couldn't wait," he sighed. He's sighing a lot.

"Are you okay?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You know, I'm not just sick because I went out in the rain," he said, putting the spoon on his nightstand and chugging from the bowl. I blinked in surprise. He set the empty bowl down, turning to me. "There, I had your soup. It was good, thanks," he nodded.

"That was hot! You probably just burned your throat, Callum!" I smacked his arm, leaving the bowl and spoon on his desk.

"It felt nice," he shrugged.

"Burning your throat with soup felt nice?"

"Yes. Doesn't it when you're sick? Since you can't taste anything?" He sniffled, grabbing a tissue and wiping his nose.

"You have a cold too?" I huffed. I pulled out my water bottle, handing it to him.

"I have water in the fridge," he said, pointing to it.

"You can't have cold water with a bad throat. Drink up." I tossed it to him and then went to his fridge, taking out all the bottles of water and leaving them outside. "Let these settle down to room temperature."

He closed the bottle after drinking from it and put it on his nightstand.

I went and sat by his legs, holding my hand up to his forehead. "You seem a bit better. Let me check you—"

"Can you sit and breathe for a second?" He closed his eyes, tilting his head back. He drank some more water and then put it back but there were beads of water on his upper lip.

I reached out instinctively and wiped it off with a finger. His eyes snapped open and he looked right at me. "You had..." I trailed off, forgetting what I had to say. I couldn't blink, I couldn't look away, and I couldn't think of anything except for him. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to blink. "Did you read anymore since last night or have you been sleeping since I saw you this morning?"

"I woke up to use the bathroom and take another painkiller for my head."

"You should have texted me. I would have brought the soup earlier," I replied.

"You were in class."

"Then I would have left class, duh," I scoffed.

"Didn't the principal ask me to take care of you? Why are things happening the other way around?" he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, "We can take care of each other. How about that?"

He nodded, smiling softly. "Sounds good to me. I'm going back to sleep," he huffed, lying down.

"I'll be in my room. I'll come to check on you in a—" I tried standing up but he stuck his legs out, pushing me back down.

"Sit down," he said, his eyes closed, his face stuffed into the pillow.

"You can't breathe like that," I stated.

He groaned, pushing the pillow out of his face. "There. Happy?"

"You want me to just sit here while you sleep?"

"What if something happens to me in my sleep? So much for taking care of each other," he scoffed.

"But—" I tried standing up again but he put his legs in my lap, pushing my back down. I chuckled, looking from his black sweatpants to his face.

"Can you take my socks off?" he asked.

"No, I am not touching your feet. And if you take them off, you'll get cold. Let's keep those on for now," I sighed, scooting up on the bed and sitting in the spot beside his.

He opened his eyes, adjusting the pillow under his head while looking at me.

"What?" I asked, pulling out my phone.

"You look pretty today. My head was pounding too much to tell you this morning," he said, closing his eyes again. "But you look nice."

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