Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Alis
The next six weeks fly by without incident, thank God.
Dexter keeps our weekly meetings professional, but friendly, which makes me more drawn to him as time passes.
I’m honestly surprised that he hasn’t asked me out or made any suggestive comments, nor has he shown any more jealousy toward Brody whenever he sees us together.
Brody and I are just friends, but I neither confirm nor deny our lack of romantic connection to Dexter.
I’m careful not to let any conversations venture into my personal life because I know that will lead to knowing more personal information about him, which will in turn make me want him even more. I’m already using every ounce of self-control not to let my ever-growing feelings show.
That control tends to slip late at night when I’m alone in bed.
Especially on weekly professor-grader meeting days.
Spending time in his presence lights a fire in my core, and by the end of the day, I’m literally aching for relief between my legs.
I swear, my vibrator has gotten more use in the last few months than it had the previous however many years.
I may not be an overtly sexual person by nature, but even I have to get myself off every once in a while. (Read: daily.) I don’t know if some switch flips when a woman hits thirty or if it’s Dexter’s proximity, but my libido has become hyperactive since moving to Grand River.
I’m walking out of one of the campus coffee shops, heading to my Wednesday morning class, when my phone rings. I fish it out of my messenger bag and see a local number I don’t recognize. I keep forgetting to program Sunny’s school into my contacts, so I answer the call just in case it’s about her.
“Hello? This is Alis.”
“Hi, Miss Gilmore. This is Ms. Johnson from Peakside Elementary School.”
Good thing I answered. “Hi, Ms. Johnson, is everything alright with Sunny?”
“We’ve had a stomach virus spreading among our students and Sunny is showing symptoms. We’ll need you to come get her.”
Of course. I have to teach after this class. I can’t remember Skye’s schedule today, but maybe she’ll be okay to call out? It’s easier for her to miss a day of work than it is for me to get my class covered on such short notice. Not that her job isn’t important.
“Yes, I can do that. Will you please let her know that either myself or my roommate will be there to pick her up as soon as possible?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll let her know. I’m assuming your roommate is on Sunny’s approved check-out roster?”
“Yes. Her name is Skye Kennedy. She’s listed as an emergency contact.”
“Sounds good. We’ll see you soon.”
“Thank you, goodbye.”
As soon as I disconnect the call, I scroll to my favorites and call Skye. Please pick up. Please oh please oh please pick up.
“Sup, honey pot?” Honey pot? That’s a new one.
“Hey, are you busy right now?”
“If kicking ass and taking names barista-style is busy, then, yes. Why? What’s up?”
Thank God she answered even though she’s working.
“Sunny’s school just called and said she caught some stomach virus that’s been going around.
Someone needs to pick her up and take her home.
I wouldn’t typically ask you to ditch work to retrieve her, but I’m teaching in a little more than an hour and I don’t even know where to begin to find a replacement.
I haven’t met any of the other TAs in my department, and Dr. Matthews teaches another class at this time, so I can’t ask her. ”
Skye pops her gum in my ear. “No problem. I’ll head out now. Is she puking? Do I need to bring a bag or something so she doesn’t puke all over my car on the drive home?”
“I have no idea. The lady who called didn’t give details, and I forgot to ask because my mind was all caught up in figuring out whether I should miss class or call you. I’m assuming stomach virus includes throwing up, so better to be safe than sorry?”
“Ten-four good buddy. Do I need to swing by the pharmacy or anything?” What would I do without this woman?! Easy. I’d die.
“I’ll put in a drive-up order for Gatorade, soup, crackers, and Pepto. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
“Cool beans. I’ll call you when I have her with an update.”
“You’re the best.” That’s an understatement.
“Truth.”
I laugh. She’s a mess. “Thank you!”
“Ciao, mama.”
Skye ends the call and I see that I have three minutes to get to class. Shit, I can’t be late again.
I sprint toward my classroom, thankful that I’ve now mastered the maze from the front door to the auditorium. I swear, whoever designed this building was an idiot. I pull open the door just as the clock strikes 8 a.m. and take my seat next to Brody.
I breeze through class and then teaching, thankful to then head home to check on Sunny. I’m halfway home when I remember my weekly meeting with Dexter is today. Dammit. I totally forgot.
Not one to text and drive, I wait until I hit a red light before scrolling through my contacts to find Deborah’s office number. I’d prefer not to call Dexter directly, especially since I don’t have his office number, just his mobile. At least he’s no longer listed as Sexy Dexy.
The phone starts to ring and my eyes are back on the road when the light turns green.
“Foreign Languages, this is Deborah.” I hear the click click click of her keyboard in the background.
“Hey, Deborah. It’s Alis. Something came up and I need to cancel my meeting with Dr. Belanger this week.”
“Everything okay?” she inquires.
“Just dealing with some sickness so I’m heading home. Can you let him know I can’t make it? He can email me whatever deadlines he wants to discuss.”
“Sure thing, dear. Get some rest and feel better. Goodbye.”
Deborah hangs up before I can say anything else, and I’m glad I didn’t have to provide more explanation.
I don’t hide Sunny from anyone, but I prefer to keep the personal and professional separate when possible.
Dr. Matthews knows about Sunny and I think I told her I’d bring her with me to campus one day, but considering I’m only on campus while Sunny is in school, that won’t happen any time soon.
As I walk through the front door to our apartment I’m greeted with the cringeworthy sound of my daughter vomiting her stomach contents into the toilet. I drop my bag on the entry table and walk to the washroom, kneeling next to Sunny and rubbing her back.
“I’m so sorry, Sunshine. I’m home now and I’ll stay with you.”
I see tears streaming down Sunny’s face as she coughs and spits to rid her mouth of lingering stomach acid.
I hate seeing my sweet girl in this state.
She becomes overly emotional when she isn’t feeling well, and it breaks my heart to see her so emotionally and physically distraught at the same time.
Sunny squeezes her eyes shut, still crying, and croaks, “My throat hurts.”
I start to push her hair back from her face and feel her scorching hot forehead in the process. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry. We’ll get you a popsicle after you rinse out your mouth, okay?”
Sunny nods and lets out a few sobs into the toilet. “It was so embarrassing. I threw up all over my lap in front of the entire class. Hailey and her friends made fun of me and the boys started laughing and making fake gagging noises.”
Kids are assholes, I swear. I resume rubbing her back, letting her have this moment to be upset.
I know she doesn’t want me to say it’ll be okay or that I’m sorry.
She’s a lot like me in that she wants to get all her frustration and feelings out, but she wants to sort through them herself.
Still, I wish I could slap the snot out of those kids in her class.
Any one of them could have found themselves in the same situation, and I’m positive they’d hate to be bullied right after getting sick in front of everyone.
“I’m going to grab a wet washcloth for your face, alright?
” Sunny nods in affirmation and I stand to grab a washcloth out of the linen closet.
I soak it in cool water before wringing out the excess and then hand it to Sunny, who is now sitting back on her heels, head out of the toilet bowl. She looks absolutely miserable.
“Do you want to take a shower or a bath?” I ask. “It might help you to feel a bit better. It’ll have to be lukewarm at best, though, because you’re burning up and we can’t risk your temperature getting any higher.”
Sunny shakes her head, wiping the last bit of tears, sweat, and sickness off her skin. “Not right now. Can I just go to bed?”
“Of course. Let’s get some medicine in you and then you can take a nap.”
The poor girl’s eyelids are heavy and swollen from crying. “Skye just gave me some pink chalky stuff and I think Tylenol or something.”
“When?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Ask her,” Sunny moans, arms crossed over her bent knees, face buried.
I go to stand up to do just that when my foot catches on the edge of the bathroom rug and I trip and stumble face-first into the hallway.
“Ah!” I yell, throwing my arms out before me to catch myself. Skye’s door swings open and she sticks her head out, looks down at the back of my head that is currently face-first in the carpet in front of her feet, and busts out laughing.
“Gravity’s a bitch, right?” she snickers. Sometimes I wish her default responses were helpful instead of antagonistic. However, then she wouldn’t be Skye.
I roll over onto my back and stare up at her.
“Are you ok, Alis? Did you hit your face on anything? Can I help in any way?” I deadpan.
Just as she’s about to spew out another snarky comment, Sunny gags and pushes back onto her knees, hugging the toilet as she vomits once again.
How does she even have anything left to throw up?