Chapter 16
Ryleigh
The pounding behind my eyes is brutal and I bury my face in the pillow.
I know the alarm is going to go off soon, but I’m so miserable I don’t want to move. I need a shower and something to work on this headache, but it’s been two days now, and the scratchiness in my throat is only getting worse. I haven’t been sick in ages, but all the zinc and Vitamin C in the world doesn’t appear to be keeping whatever this is at bay.
I roll over and cringe at the pain in my head.
I recognize the signs of a sinus infection but don’t know what to do about it.
We have to be on the road in less than an hour, and I can barely get out of bed. I was miserable yesterday, but I had a decongestant to take the edge off. I don’t have any left so I’m in agony today.
Somehow, I drag myself into the shower and wash off. I don’t bother doing my hair, pulling it back in a ponytail after I brush my teeth. I tug on shorts and a T-shirt, slide my feet into my sandals, and then stuff my toiletries and nightshirt into my suitcase.
It rolls, but even that feels like so much work I have to lean against the wall as I wait for the elevator. I also have my backpack and the little crossbody purse that I use on travel days, and it’s suddenly exhausting to lug it around.
All I want to do is crawl back into bed and sleep.
By the time I get to the lobby I’m sweating and wonder if I have a fever.
“There you are. You’re late!” Our bus driver, Ben, smiles at me and reaches for my suitcase.
“Sorry. Feeling a little under the weather today.”
“Sorry about that.” He looks at me worriedly. “You need me to stop at any point, just let me know.”
“Thanks.” I climb the steps of the bus one at a time and try not to look at anyone.
“You okay, Ryleigh?” Kirsten asks, frowning as I walk past her.
“I think I have a cold,” I say. “I’m just going to sit in the far back away from everyone. In case it’s contagious.”
“Oh, no.” Kirsten doesn’t seem worried about getting sick, and follows me to the back. “What can I get you? I can run inside and grab orange juice, Tylenol…”
“It feels like a sinus thing,” I admit. “And I took my last Sudafed yesterday. Could you ask if anyone has one?”
“Sure thing.” She immediately pulls out her phone and starts tapping away.
I stick my backpack in the overhead cubby, pull out my headphones and phone, and then sink into the chair.
“Looks like Sydney has some,” she says. “And they haven’t left yet. Give me two minutes.” She hurries away, and probably three minutes later she’s back with a couple of pills and a bottle of water.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I whisper, grateful. “Thank her for me.”
“No problem.” She smiles. “Try to rest and maybe we can get something to eat later.”
“I’d like that.” I take one of the Sudafed, tuck the other away for tomorrow, and then put on my headphones. I turn on some music and close my eyes.
The next thing I know, Kirsten is shaking me.
“Hey, wake up.”
My head isn’t pounding anymore, but I’m still tired and sluggish.
“Ugh.” I rub my eyes. “Where are we?”
“We’re in St. Louis. I didn’t want to wake you when we stopped for lunch. How are you feeling?”
“Not great,” I admit. “Would you be mad if I took a raincheck on dinner? I think I just want to go to bed.”
“Of course.” She reaches above me and grabs my backpack. “Let me get this for you. Sam can grab your suitcase, and then I’ll tuck you in.”
I want to protest, but I don’t have the energy.
It’s nice to have someone taking care of me, even if it’s something as simple as carrying my luggage.
“Hey, Ryleigh—” Tate calls to me. “I really enjoyed the article you wrote about Lexi.”
“Yeah, it was great, Ry.” Sam nods, grabbing my suitcase.
“Thanks,” I whisper, noting that my voice has gotten rough.
“You don’t sound good,” Tate says, frowning. “You all right?”
“Just allergies and sinuses acting up,” I say. “A good night’s sleep and I’ll be right as rain for the show tomorrow.”
“Take it easy,” Mick says, patting my shoulder. “Allergies are the worst.”
“If someone was willing to go to the store for me,” I say, digging some money out of my wallet. “I could use some more Sudafed, nasal spray, and Gatorade.”
“Put that away.” Angus surprises me by stepping in. “I’ll take care of it.”
Again, I want to protest, but I just don’t have the energy.
Besides, he owes me for being a jerk.
Kirsten and Sam help me up to my room, and then Sam leaves as Kirsten fusses over me, making me change into my nightshirt and get into bed. She goes and gets some ice, another bottle of water, and a couple of granola bars.
“I know you probably aren’t hungry, so try to at least nibble on these,” she says.
“Thanks. You’re a good friend.”
“Text me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
She opens the door when Angus arrives with everything I asked for, and they talk in hushed tones for a minute before she comes over and puts the items where I can reach them.
“Rest,” she whispers, slipping out of the room.
I close my eyes and snuggle into the blankets and pillows as soon as she’s gone.
I slept all day but I’m still exhausted.
But I’m also hungry.
As much as I don’t want to move, I reach for one of the granola bars. I drink a little Gatorade and then lose myself in sleep.
I wake to a searing pain in my right ear.
I groan, pressing my hand against it.
Just what I need.
If this is an ear infection, I’m not going to be able to tough it out or sleep it off.
My father’s voice echoes in my mind, reminding me I need to get a “real” job.
Because I need health insurance.
“I’m trying, dammit,” I mutter out loud, making my way to the bathroom.
I look like death warmed over twice, but I can’t muster up any fucks to give.
I brush my teeth and then go back to bed.
Sudafed might prevent me from falling asleep, so I down some Tylenol and another granola bar.
Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day.
My phone buzzes and I see a text from Taryn.
TARYN: Hey, where are you?
RYLEIGH: St. Louis. What about you?
TARYN: I’m still with Callum. We’re in Miami tonight. We’re at a party but I’m so fucking tired of the scene.
RYLEIGH: Why don’t you go home?
TARYN: He doesn’t want me to. He gets bummed out and then I feel guilty.
RYLEIGH: I’m no relationship expert but I don’t think someone who cares about you is supposed to make you feel guilty for wanting to go home for a while. This is his life, not yours.
TARYN: Yeah, I know. But I know I’ll be bored if I go home.
RYLEIGH: Aren’t you working?
TARYN: Sometimes? Work was really good for a while, but since I’ve been with Callum it’s dried up a little. My agent says it’s because I’m not there to go to castings, but I thought I was past that level of my career. I thought they’d just come to me now.
RYLEIGH: So tell Callum you need to go to work.
TARYN: He says I don’t need to work—he’ll take care of me.
RYLEIGH: Is that what you want? To be in a situation where you rely on him?
TARYN: I don’t know. Part of me thinks no way in hell, but another part of me is tired. Like maybe getting married and just being a wife would be enough.
RYLEIGH: Is that you talking or is that Callum buzzing in your ear?
TARYN: Maybe a little bit of both. Anyway, what about you? Things must be wild on that tour right now.
RYLEIGH: Maybe, but if they are, I wouldn’t know because I’m in bed with a sinus and what feels like an ear infection.
TARYN: Did you go to urgent care?
Ugh.
I hate admitting I don’t have insurance.
RYLEIGH: Not yet. If it’s not better by tomorrow, I will.
That’s a lie, because I really don’t want to spend the money.
There was less than my dad thought in that account, and I spent it on health insurance premiums last year. Now the money has dried up, and I don’t have either.
TARYN: Well, don’t wait too long. You’re on tour—you need to be enjoying it!
RYLEIGH: Things are pretty tense right now so it might be better if I sleep through it. LOL
TARYN: Yeah, Callum says the band is on the verge of breaking up. He talked to Jonny yesterday, and Jonny is pissed.
That’s news to me, and guilt gnaws its way through my gut yet again.
If they break up, it’s my fault, and there’s no integrity in that. Even if outing Angus was the truth, that doesn’t make it right.
I desperately want to talk to her about it, tell her everything that’s happened, but I don’t trust that she won’t tell Callum. She seems completely ensnared in his web, and I don’t like him. So for now, I’ll keep my problems to myself.
TARYN: Well, I’ll let you rest. Call me if you feel like talking. Callum sleeps most of the day and I just hang out at the hotels, either in the room or at the pool.
RYLEIGH: I’ll hit you up once I’m feeling better.
TARYN: Take care—and go to the doctor!
RYLEIGH: Talk soon.
I put the phone down and stare at the ceiling.
I’d hoped after sleeping so much I’d be able to go downstairs to get something to eat, but I honestly don’t feel up to it. I don’t even have the energy to watch a movie.
I close my eyes and pray that the pain in my ear subsides enough for me to get some sleep.