44. Kendall
Kendall
An incoming call that makes my head vibrate with pain interrupts me from my obligatory illness related wallowing. It’s Kai. I let it go to voicemail and start drafting a text to him, but before I can send it, he calls again.
“Hello?” I croak.
“Ken? What’s wrong?” His voice is coated with concern.
“I was just about to” cough “text you” cough “I think I have the flu.”
“Shit. You sound awful. Is Akio sick too?”
I turn over onto my side and let the phone balance precariously on my cheek. Holding it up to my ear is too much effort.
“No. My moms’ took him for the weekend so I could get some rest.”
“Okay, but who is taking care of you?” he asks, which is such a Kai thing for him to say.
“I’m fine,” cough. “My moms brought me soup, and I have some leftover cold medicine from the last time we were sick.” At least I think I do. My thoughts are starting to become hazy, and slightly incoherent.
“Ken,” he insists, “I’m coming over. The flu has been bad this year. A lot of people have gone to the hospital—"
I close my eyes, starting to nod off. “Kai, I’m fine, I’ll be okay. I swear.” I think he’s about to pressure me into letting him come over, when I hear a chirping sound that seems too close to be coming from outside. I watch horrified as a flurry of wings and feathers zip across my ceiling.
What the fuck? Am I hallucinating? Am I that sick?
“Kai, I have to go. I think there’s a bird…or something in my apartment,” I explain and abruptly hang up on him. I somehow peel myself from my indented hole on the couch and poke my head above the cushion. There is indeed a small brown bird sitting on my dining room chair.
“Hey there little guy,” I say in my most non-threatening voice, which he doesn’t seem to appreciate. He immediately takes off and flies straight into my kitchen cabinets. I lay back down in my cozy nest of blankets and used tissues to pull out my phone and Google animal control.
Is that even who I call in this situation?
But I have depleted my energy reserves for the entire day. Before I can ponder my current predicament any further, my eyes flutter closed and I drift off into a peaceful, birdless sleep.
***
When I wake up, I’m in my bed. At least I think it’s my bed.
I lean over to turn on the lamp that’s on my nightstand, confirming that I’m definitely in my room.
Even the tiniest bit of light burns my retinas and adds to the throbbing at the base of my skull.
I switch it back off wondering how I ever made it to my bed, when I hear a deep voice coming from outside my room.
“If you’re here to kill me, know I have the flu,” I shout into the hallway hoarsely. Kai appears in my bedroom doorway, dressed in Boston Bucks athletic gear, his inky black hair unruly underneath his hat.
Did he still remember that a backwards hat was my weakness, my kryptonite? God, I need to get a grip.
And of course he’s grinning as he leans against the doorframe.
Fucking grinning, and it’s absolutely diabolical.
I’m on my deathbed and here he is, looking like he effortlessly rolled out of a GQ spread.
He’s so devastatingly handsome it’s comical.
But I’m beyond caring. The part of me that would be mortified to have Kai witness me at my lowest, sickest, hot dumpster fire self, had been desecrated along with my dignity when I had mono my junior year of college.
“I might actually kill you if you don’t let me start taking care of you,” he counters, his tone playful.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, exasperated and confused.
“I was already on my way when you said you had the flu,” he explains. “But the bird in the apartment was the real selling point for me,” he smiles. Just seeing it has me feeling the slightest bit better.
“Right,” I say, fighting against the pressure building in my head. “I think I may have fallen asleep after the bird…So, I wasn’t hallucinating?”
He moves to sit down at the foot of the bed. “You were not hallucinating. I did get him out though. I just got off the phone with your landlord—"
“Wait what? What do you mean you got him out? How?” I attempt to lift my head off the pillow and quickly realize it's not doable.
“I read online that if you leave a window or door open, eventually they’ll fly out. I also gave him a little bit of a nudge with a broom. After like thirty minutes he finally went into the hallway. I called your landlord to let him know it’s his problem now.”
“How—" his face breaks into a smile again.
“Your landlord’s number is on the side of your fridge,” he comments. He lifts the blanket, taking both of my feet in his lap, and then starts massaging them. He moves his thumbs over the arch in smooth circular motions, applying just the right amount of pressure, and it feels amazing.
“Thank you, Kai. You didn’t have to—god, that feels good,” I groan, interrupting my own thoughts.
“I did have to and it was nothing. You know I’m not leaving. So just let me take care of you, Ken,” he responds.
“Fine,” I relent. “But I feel like you should keep your distance. You have important games coming up. Maybe don’t stay longer than necessary?” I suggest.
“Kendall, I’m staying for as long as you need me, okay? I’ll be fine, you know my immune system. Now close your eyes, lay your head back, and let me massage your feet,” he insists.
I wake up two times throughout the night.
Once to Kai stroking my hair while he scrolls on his phone.
I’m positive I hear him murmur something like go back to sleep, beautiful, but my feverish brain cannot be trusted.
The next time I’m starving because I haven’t eaten in almost eighteen hours.
I get up in search of a snack but Kai guides me with a gentle hand back to bed.
He returns five minutes later with toast and chicken noodle soup, which is somehow the perfect temperature.
He spoon feeds it to me like I’m a goddamn baby bird.
And it’s at this moment that I find myself feeling so grateful and relieved that he came.
I know in my bones that this is what it is to be truly loved and taken care of by Kai.
That he always shows up and is fiercely loyal to the people he cares about.
I also realize, not for the first time, that I probably don’t deserve him.
But I want to be the person who does. I want to keep him anyways. And I know it’s not just the illness talking.