sixteen
My Best Friend's a Wingman
s i x t e e n ; buoyancy
I think the blow has knocked me off my senses because for a long moment, I stand frozen in time — not hearing, not saying anything. I could only manage to utter a simple “oh,” and only that. All coherent words are stolen out of my mouth and all the air has been squeezed out of my lungs.
“Skye, are you there?” The urgency of his voice breaks through my stupor. “You know I’m only messing with you right?”
It takes time for me to digest what he has just said. The next minute, I’m spitting so many profanities that would put real thugs to shame. This encourages Kai to roar louder in laughter at every swear coming out of me, and the sound simultaneously brings anger and relief through me.
“Video call me,” he says, and even without looking, I can identify the -eating grin he’s proudly wearing.
“No, I don’t want to even look at your stupid face right now. Bye. This is the end of our stupid friendship.”
“Come on, that’s a little funny,” he tempts.
“No. Bye. I’m done with you.” I disconnect our call. Shortly after, my phone rings with the request from Kai to video call. I don’t answer until the third time he attempts to video call me and make sure the first thing he sees is the hard glare I’m sending him.
His face fades into the screen and as expected, his stupid grin contrasts with my furious scowl.
“Hey pal,” he greets with a wink.
My eyes narrow in irritation. “Don’t ‘Hey pal’ me,” I imitate him with warning. “It’s not going to work.”
He sets the camera down, which results in a fuller view of him lounging sideway on his bed. He rests his head on his folded arm. “On a serious note, why would you even think you’re a terrible friend?”
“Like I don’t do enough? Sometimes I feel like there’s a possibility of you being tired of my presence.”
“So let me ask you this,” he interjects, “are you tired of seeing me so constantly?”
“Well, no.”
“Have we ever run out of things to talk about?”
This question prompts a longer contemplation. “Not that I know of. Sometimes. Rarely.”
“Can I count on you?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I trust you with my deepest secrets?”
“Yes.”
“And if I killed someone…” He signals for me to finish the rest of his sentence.
“It’s because you have a justified reason and I will help you bury the dead body.”
He snaps his fingers in satisfaction. “Good answer. See, you’re totally a terrible friend.” His voice drips in irony. “And if you’re not sick of me, then why would I be sick of you? Didn’t you know? I’m known for my endurance to tolerate high maintenance things better than you.”
He has nerve to accuse me of being high maintenance. “I bet you’re so proud of yourself for throwing that last statement in there.”
His grin extends. “So are we cool?”
Instead of answering, my immune system forces me into a coughing fit. “Ugh geez, this cold.” I groan. I’m shivering and as I’m looking for my blanket to suddenly recall that I left it on the floor in the living room when I rushed to chase after my brother.
“Ethan, please fetch me my blanket!” I call for my brother, which is a bad idea because I’m hacking up coughs again.
“Got sick from the rain? Is that why you’re home?” Kai delivers a look with sympathy. He doesn’t know that I took a day off but he must have put two and two together when he received a call from me in the middle of the day. Both of us should be at school at this time on any ordinary day but bad luck must have caught up to us. One has a fever while the other has an injured ankle.
I sniffle. “Yup.”
Ethan enters in a midst of our conversation about Kai’s doctor’s visit. He probably concludes that my best friend and I have resolved whatever it is that needed to be resolved from the usual way that we’re talking, flings the blanket on me, gives me two big thumbs up, and leaves without any words.
“Thank you!” I call after him then smother myself in warmth to the point I form a cocoon of blanket.
Kai switches the camera so it uses the phone’s main camera, where he points at a pair of crutches. “Guess who’s the poor kid who has to use these for at least a week or two?”
“Let me guess, he’s a little ugly and has an ego of an elephant.”
Kai makes a sound that resembles horror of discovering that I’ve just killed his dearest pet. He uses the front camera so it shows his insulted expression. “Just to have you know, girls dig this ugly face.”
I gag. “Please, I haven’t puked from being sick but your comment alone makes me nauseous.”
• • • • • • •
I’ve been through hell and back.
It takes me three days off of school to return to a decent state. During those days, I have to relive the artificial taste of cherry cough syrup, my congested nose makes it difficult to breathe, and I keep passing out from fatigue. Being sick . Even though I’ve regained a little functionality, my body was glued to my bed this morning. I almost considered getting another day off until I recall the amount of school work piling on top of the assignments mountain that are waiting for me to catch up on. So I put on my big girl’s pants, it up, and force myself to change out of my pajamas although all the atoms in me seek the comfort of staying home.
Just my luck, this morning’s indecisiveness results in tardiness to my homeroom class. I do the walk of shame to Mrs. Jones’s desk and give her my detention slip, ignoring the momentary pause from my class’s chatter. Their attention shifts back to their conversations after realizing it’s nothing particularly interesting.
I slide into my chair and my ears pick up on the girls’ latest gossip right away. Something about a girl’s hookup with someone on the basketball team. I sort of missed their meddlesome talking now that I’m back. Or maybe it’s just my post-fever’s delirious mind conjuring up false emotions for me to feel. Decided to tune them out with music, I concentrate on some assignments I’m behind on.
I get an acceptable amount finished by the time Ms. Jones dismisses our class. A figure falls into step with me on the exit. He towers over my short frame and almost
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