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“Hiya! OUCH!” Milton’s hand hit the board and he pulled it away, howling in pain. The thin block of wood he was attempting to break remained firmly in tact, balanced between two cinder blocks.
“I’ll go get some ice…” said Eddie, scurrying away to find some.
“It’s getting better Milton, you just need more practice,” Rudy said kindly.
It was a Saturday morning, and Milton, Eddie, Kim, and Jerry were at the dojo for practice.
“Oh come on,” complained Kim, hopping down from the half-wall she had been sitting on for the last hour. “You guys have been at this all morning. It should be my turn now.”
“Sorry Kim,” Jerry replied, striding forward with his just chest puffed out, “but we’re practicing for the Pacific Coast Men’s Karate Tournament, and you are not a man, which means our practice time comes first.”
“That is so sexist and unfair,” Kim argued. “I’m a black belt! I should outrank you.”
“I hate to say it, Kim, but Jerry’s right. This tournament is a really big deal, and it’s only a week away. All the best dojos in California are going to be there. These boys need all the practice they can get,” Rudy said.
“If it’s so important, why isn’t Jack here?” Kim pointed out. Her question was answered as the sound of a hacking cough filled the dojo. The front doors swung open and Jack walked in, covering his mouth with his elbow. He was in his usual practice attire, a comfortable long sleeve shirt and sweat pants. He kicked off his shoes as he approached the mat.
“Jack, you’re late,” Rudy said.
“I know, sorry,” Jack answered in a hoarse voice. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and Kim noticed the dusky purple shadows beneath them. Rudy rolled his eyes.
“We’ll talk about this later. Guys, get into sparring pairs. Jack and Milton, you’re up first.” Kim looked murderous but said nothing, stepping aside to watch the fight. Jack coughed heavily into his elbow before turning to bow to Milton, who crinkled his nose in response. He was not a fan of germs.
“Begin!” Rudy cried.
Jack stepped forward, but immediately seemed off balance. He stumbled as Milton aimed a punch at his rib cage, which he narrowly dodged. Jack then attempted a weak side kick and missed.
“Come on guys,” Rudy urged, “get it together!”
Jack grunted as he kicked again, but Milton blocked him with ease. Kim furrowed her eyebrows as she watched them. What was going on? Jack had only lost to Milton once while sparring, after he went 48 hours without sleep. Normally, a matchup like this would be comically quick. Jack was a black belt, after all, and much more skilled than Milton, or any of the others for that matter. Even Kim had to admit he was good. A minute later, Milton landed a round house kick squarely in Jack’s chest, and he hit the mat with a thump. Jack groaned in pain, curling in on himself on the floor.
“Woah,” Milton gasped, “I did it! I did it!”
“Uh, yeah. Great job, Milton. Why don’t you go get a Gatorade from my office?” Rudy suggested. Milton nodded eagerly and hurried off. Jack remained on the floor.
“Jack, what is wrong with you? That should’ve been an easy takedown,” Rudy said, once Milton was out of ear shot.
“I dunno…” Jack mumbled, “I just haven’t been myself today.” Kim wandered over and knelt down to where Jack laid on the mat. She pushed the sweaty hair back from his forehead, revealing his pale and shadowy face.
“Kim, what’re you-?” Jack’s sentence was interrupted by another violent coughing fit. Kim ignored him and pressed the back of her hand to his face. Her breath hitched as she felt the pronounced heat radiating from his skin.
“He’s got a fever,” she said softly to Rudy, but she was gazing into Jack’s face. Jack rolled away from her at once.
“You’re out of your mind,” he said dismissively. He pushed himself back to standing, brushing his hands off on his pants. Milton returned then, parading around a red Gatorade like it was a shiny gold trophy.
“Come on Milton, I want a rematch,” Jack said. He looked a little alarming now, his hair disheveled, a faint ring of sweat forming around the neckline of his shirt. Kim jumped quickly out of the way as he widened his feet to a fighting stance, and waved Milton on with one hand. Milton and Jerry exchanged looks.
“Oh… okay,” he agreed hesitantly.
“Hiyah!” Milton’s first punch connected with Jack’s face and he fell to the floor once again. Milton’s eyes darted from his fist, to Jack, and back again.
“Does this mean I’m the best now?” He asked excitedly. Kim rushed forward. With a low sweeping kick, she knocked Milton’s legs out from under him so he hit the mat with a crash. Then she took Jack by his clammy hands and helped him to his feet. She tried not to show the hurt in her face when he instantly shrugged her off.
“Jack, that’s it. You’re clearly sick. You need to go home and lay down,” Rudy said.
“I’m fine,” Jack insisted. A bruise was already blooming where Milton’s punch grazed his cheekbone.
“No, you’re not. You’re pale as a ghost and I bet Kim’s right about the fever,” Rudy countered. “Go home.”
“No one tells me what to do,” Jack sniffed. Kim almost rolled her eyes. That line was a Jack Brewer classic, the same tough-guy act he’d been putting on since she met him. Only now, its bite was weakened significantly by the congestion in his voice.
"Well I'm your sensei," Rudy asserted, "and I'm banning you from practice today. And I’ll ban you from the tournament next week too if you’re not better by then.” Jack and the other boys gasped.
“Rudy, let’s be sensible!” Milton cried. “We all know me beating Jack was a fluke. We need him at the tournament if we want to win!”
“Then he’d better rest up,” Rudy shrugged. He busied himself setting up more boards to break, and it was clear the conversation was over. Jack was evidently at a loss for words; that or his raspy voice was keeping him from speaking. He muffled another cough with his sleeve and Kim could hardly stand it any longer.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” she said to him. Jack fixed her with a strange look, his feet planted resolutely in place. Clearly, he had no intention of leaving. “I’m not getting any practice time today anyway, and you look like you’re on the verge of collapse. So come on, let’s go.” Jack seemed to mull over his options in his head, then he sighed, relenting at last.
“Fine. But only because I wanna compete next week,” he huffed. Reluctantly, he collected his belongings and allowed Kim to lead him from the dojo.
***
Kim and Jack took the bus back to Jack’s house. As they rode, Jack rested his head on the window and stared out it, determinedly avoiding Kim’s eyes. Kim could feel the silence between them. They had always had a complicated relationship, she and Jack, and she was sure he was as aware of it as she was. Sometimes, like when they went to China, Kim might as well have been Jack’s girlfriend, with the way the two of them acted. But other times, like when Jack rejected her when she asked him to cotillion, Kim wondered if Jack even liked her at all. This morning had been filled with moments more in line with the latter, and Kim felt the sting of them as freshly as Jack felt the cut on his cheek.
“This is us,” Kim said as the bus screeched to a stop. She nudged Jack, and he seemed to come back to himself, blinking blearily and looking around.
“Did you fall asleep?” Kim asked.
“No. I was just resting my eyes…” he muttered. The two exited the bus and walked down the street to Jack’s house. On the front steps, Jack fumbled with the key for a moment before the lock clicked, admitting them to the house. Kim followed him into the dark and quiet kitchen, and flicked the lights on. She gazed around, taking it in. There were dark wooden cabinets and white counter tops, wood floors that looked well-polished and clean, and a sliding glass door that opened out onto the patio. Somewhere in the back of Kim’s mind, it occurred to her she’d never been to Jack’s house before.
“Are your parents home?” She asked.
“Nah, my dad won a free trip to Cabo in a raffle at his office, so they’re gone until next Friday. It’s just me here.” Kim pursed her lips. She didn’t like the idea of Jack being all alone when he was sick. She watched as he sank down into a kitchen chair and rested his head in his hands, his elbows propped up on the table. He was shivering now, despite the thin film of sweat on his forehead. Kim lingered awkwardly in the entryway.
“Th-thanks for t-taking me home,” Jack said to her through chattering teeth. “You can g-go now, Kim.” Kim rocked back and forth on her heels, but did not leave.
“Are you sure? There’s no where I have to be. I hate to leave you by yourself.”
“Yeah, I’m f-fine-“ Jack coughed so forcefully he almost fell out of his chair. Kim sighed, exasperated. She crossed the kitchen to the cabinets lining the far wall and began to search through them, looking for where Mrs. Brewer kept the medicine.
“Kim-?” Jack started.
“Go to your room and lie down,” she instructed, “I’ll be there in just a second.” Jack looked bemused but did not argue. Kim’s tone had not invited further discussion, and he was in no condition to negotiate. He stood up with great effort and rounded the corner, heading for the staircase. Before he went up though, he poked his head around the corner again. Kim pulled her head out of the cabinet she’d been searching and shot him a warning look.
But before she could yell at him to go upstairs, Jack said, “the medicine cabinet is behind the mirror in the hall bathroom. Just there.” He pointed to a door past the kitchen. “I’ll be upstairs,” he said finally. He disappeared around the corner and Kim heard his footsteps climbing the steps. For a moment, she stood frozen with her hand on the cabinet door. Could it be that this was Jack’s small, reluctant way of admitting weakness, and accepting her help? Kim decided it was, and headed straight for the bathroom to gather some supplies before following Jack up the stairs.
***
It wasn’t hard to find Jack’s room. There were just three doors at the top of the landing, two of which were slightly ajar, and one that was closed. The closed door was plastered in various signs and posters: one said KEEP OUT while another read NINJA CROSSING. Kim laughed to herself as she knocked and pushed the door open. It was a small bedroom with white walls and an en-suite bathroom. Jack’s double bed was pushed against the wall with a large window behind it. His skate boards were mounted on the wall to its right and there were a dozen karate trophies balanced on his dresser to the left. More posters covered the walls inside as well, displaying scenes from Star Wars and Karate Kid. It felt cozy and lived-in, with Jack’s personality splashed all over the place. The only surprise, Kim thought, was how tidy it was.
Jack had changed out of his clothes from earlier in favor of a gray T-shirt, and propped himself up in bed on his pillows. He looked quite miserable lying there, his brown hair sticking to his glistening forehead. Kim walked over and set a glass of water down on his bedside table.
“So… tell me what’s wrong. Besides the fact that you got punched in the face by Milton,” she said with a small smile. Jack’s fingers absently touched the abrasion on his cheek and he winced.
“Thanks for reminding me,” he grumbled. “How bad is it?”
“Not bad,” Kim answered. “A little purple. It probably hurts worse than it looks.”
“Honestly, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. This bruise is like, the least painful part of my body right now.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely. Everything aches. And my throat is killing me. And on top of that, I’ve got this stupid cough. It kept me up all night,” Jack finished. He rubbed his face with his hands and Kim noticed how violently he was shivering again.
“Alright, open up,” she said, holding out the thermometer she’d taken from the medicine cabinet. Jack groaned and Kim thrust the thermometer into his protesting mouth.
“Don’t move it,” she said firmly. Jack scowled at her, the thermometer between his lips. It beeped and Kim pulled it out to examine it. She flipped the screen around to show Jack the reading: 101.3.
“Out of my mind, huh?” She scoffed. Jack sank into his pillows, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry about that,” he croaked, “I just… really wanted to stay for practice.” Kim surveyed him for a moment, unconvinced that he was telling the truth, then decided not to pry. It was a small miracle Jack was letting her stay with him in the first place; she didn’t need to push her luck.
“You should take some medicine, get the fever under control,” she said instead. “I couldn’t find any non-drowsy stuff though. Just NyQuil.”
Jack’s mouth twisted and Kim was sure he was going to refuse, but then he said, “Is it the pills or the liquid?”
“Either,” she answered.
“Fine, I’ll take the pills. That stuff doesn’t make me tired, anyway.” Kim raised her eyebrows in surprise but said nothing, and popped the two green liquid gels out of the packaging before handing them to Jack. Jack grabbed the glass of water and swallowed the pills dutifully, suppressing the shiver that ran down his spine. Then, he fell back onto his pillows again, massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers and squeezing his eyes shut.
“I should let you rest,” Kim said, standing to leave.
She had just reached the door when Jack let out the tiniest, “Kim?” Kim paused with her hand on the door knob and turned to face him again. He was so white he almost blended in with his pillow case.
“Will you stay, actually? I’m… I’m not really tired. I caught a quick nap on the bus,” he said, offering her a sheepish grin. Once again, Kim recognized Jack’s words for what they were: a willingness to be vulnerable with her. Perhaps here, away from the dojo and behind closed doors, Jack could finally let his guard down.
“Of course,” Kim said, wandering back to his bedside. “What do you wanna do?”
“I dunno. We could watch a movie on my laptop. Or just hang out… talk…” his voice trailed off.
“Sure,” Kim replied. She pulled out Jack’s desk chair and wheeled it to the side of his bed so she had a place to sit. “How are you feeling about the tournament next week?”
Jack shifted around in bed so he was on his side, facing her.
“Pretty good. I think I could win with my new bo staff routine. I just need to rest, keep my strength up and all that.” Kim nodded thoughtfully.
“I wish I could compete,” she said bitterly, “but it’s a men’s tournament.” Suddenly, Jack pushed himself up on his elbows. His eyes were wide as he looked at Kim.
“But you’re gonna come watch, right? You’ll still be there, at the tournament?” Kim blinked at him. There was something so sincere about the worry in his voice, about his desire for her to be there. Kim forced herself not to melt under his gaze.
“Yeah, for sure, I’ll come watch,” she replied. Jack instantly relaxed against his pillows again.
“Good,” he said, pleased. He was blinking slowly now, his eyelids getting heavier. Kim noticed he was not shivering anymore, and his breath was flowing in and out at a steady pace.
“I just think, after China,” Jack continued, and Kim was sure he was fighting the NyQuil now, “you’re kinda like my good luck charm. I mean, I know Kai’s goons broke my hand and everything but… I dunno, I still won.” He was smiling a little at the ceiling, just to himself. Kim couldn’t help but smile too.
“You did win. Well, maybe not officially,” she mused, remembering the day. Jack let out a groggy laugh.
“Not like that. I mean, like, every time I finished a match, I turned around, and you were there, cheering me on. I was winning the fights, sure, but how many of those other guys had you in their corner? Zero. That’s how I know I won.” Kim let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in. A silence stretched between them for a moment as Jack nestled deeper into his blankets and Kim stared at him in disbelief.
“Jack, that’s so sweet,” she said when she found her voice. “I didn’t know that you… Jack?” She had just realized that Jack’s eyes were firmly closed. His chest was rising and falling rhythmically. The tension between his eyebrows had finally eased. And Kim knew one thing with certainty: that although Jack was an excellent fighter, this time around, the NyQuil had won.
***
As Jack slept, Kim wandered into the kitchen feeling a strange mixture of elation and apprehension. On one hand, Jack’s words were as close to a confession of romantic feelings for her as she’d ever gotten; but on the other hand, he’d been feverish and doped up on NyQuil when he said them. She was hesitant to get her hopes up under such unreliable circumstances. Realizing it was lunch time, Kim distracted herself by making grilled cheese and tomato soup for the both of them. It wasn’t hard to do; it seemed Jack’s mom had stocked him up with food for the weekend, knowing she would be out of town. Kim just had to locate the pots and pans, and the rest was quite simple. A little while later, Kim balanced the bowls and plates on her arms and climbed the stairs back up to Jack’s room. She turned the knob slowly, trying not to wake him in case he was still asleep. What she found though, was Jack thrashing around and mumbling in his sleep.
“Jack?” Kim said, dropping the dishes on his desk and hurrying over to him. His breath was coming in quick, sharp inhales and his eyes were tightly closed. /He’s having a nightmare/, Kim realized.
“Jack!” She repeated. “JACK!” Jack’s eyes flashed open and he sat up with a gasp. He fought to catch his breath as another coughing fit racked his body.
“K-Kim?” He spluttered. “Oh… oh God…” Jack put his face in his hands and fell back onto his pillows. “Sorry,” he murmured at last, “bad dream.”
“I could see that,” Kim said gently. She pulled out the desk chair again and sat down beside him. “You wanna tell me what it was about?” Jack’s hands slid down his face to reveal his eyes. He peered at her over his finger tips.
“It’s stupid,” he said. “I was at the Pacific Coast Karate Tournament, and I was up to spar, but suddenly, I couldn’t move. I was just, like, frozen, as some faceless dude beat me up. And Eddie, and Milton, and Jerry were there, and they were on the sidelines shaking their heads. And then Rudy showed up and said he was revoking my black belt. And you were there, and you just looked… disappointed.” A moment of silence passed where Kim didn’t know what to say. Then Jack added, “And then Bobby Wasabi showed up with a bunch of his ninjas, and they said they were turning the dojo into a dance studio, and then everyone started ballroom dancing, but I don’t know how to dance.” Kim’s sympathetic expression broke as she burst out laughing.
“Sounds like a fever dream. C’mere,” she said, reaching over to check Jack’s forehead. Her laughter stopped abruptly when her hand touched his skin. “Oh… you’re burning up,” she said seriously. She retrieved the thermometer from the bedside table and gave it to Jack, who begrudgingly stuck it between his teeth.
“How is it?” Jack asked when Kim retrieved it. She was staring at the tiny screen, her face nearly as white as Jack’s.
“Not… not bad,” she faltered. Jack rolled his eyes and snatched the thermometer from her hands. He let out a low whistle as he read the screen.
“102.2, huh,” he said. “Not good.”
“No, it’s not. And you’ve already had NyQuil,” Kim agreed. “We’ll have to try something else.” She swept into Jack’s bathroom and located a washcloth, which she wet with cool water under the sink.
“Hold still,” she said to Jack, before laying it across his forehead. Jack seemed prepared to protest, but when the cool rag touched his skin, he let out a sigh of relief, his eyes fluttering shut as his body relaxed.
“Oh,” he murmured, “that’s nice.”
“I bet,” Kim chuckled. “By the way, I made us lunch. Here.” She retrieved the plates from where she left them and set them in Jack’s lap. Jack opened his eyes, grimacing when he saw the food in front of him.
“Hey, don’t make that face. I’m a great cook,” Kim said defensively.
“It’s not that, Kim. I just… really don’t feel good. I’m afraid anything I eat will just come back up again.”
“Oh… well, can you try? It’s like you said, you’ve gotta keep your strength up.”
“I dunno… it’s bad enough I’ve been a sweaty, shivery mess all day. You don’t need to see me puke, too,” Jack explained. Kim wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She’d had a feeling Jack would be embarrassed about having her take care of him. He was stubborn and independent, and didn’t like to show weakness. That was why he shrugged her off at the dojo, and told her she could leave when they got back to his house, even though he clearly needed her. But Kim didn’t find it off-putting. In fact, although she hated that Jack was sick, seeing him at his most vulnerable was actually somewhat endearing. She only hoped that if she had been the one sick, Jack would’ve done the same for her.
“Maybe let’s just start with some water then. Small sips,” Kim said. Jack accepted the cup from her hands and did as he was told. When the water stayed down, he made a brave attempt at the soup, letting the warm liquid soothe his sore throat. He even had a few small bites of his sandwich, before deciding not to push his luck. Kim could’ve kissed him.
“You did great,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. Jack squeezed back and Kim felt her cheeks turn pink. “Um… you can have more medicine now. I know it’ll probably make you sleepy, but I think you should take it since your fever is still so high.” Selfishly, Kim didn’t want him to fall asleep now. Not when her hand was resting in his.
“You’re probably right,” Jack agreed. Kim reluctantly released his hand and fetched two more pills, which Jack downed with a swig of water. “Um… do you wanna watch a movie until I fall asleep?” Jack asked a little shyly. Kim turned pinker still.
“Sure,” she replied, “let me get your laptop.” Kim pulled Jack’s laptop out of his school bag and handed it to him. Then, she went to turn off the lights as he opened Amazon Prime Video and began scrolling through options.
“What do you wanna watch? Karate Kid?” Jack suggested.
“Sounds good,” Kim answered, lowering herself into the desk chair at Jack’s side. Jack paused, staring at Kim for a second.
“Uh, well you can’t see the screen from down there,” Jack pointed out. “Here.” He shifted to one side of his bed, making room for Kim to come sit next to him. Kim went from pink to scarlet. Jack must’ve noticed her hesitate, because he said “oh, you probably don’t wanna get any closer to me. I’m all germy and gross…”
“No!” Kim said hastily. “No, um, I don’t mind at all.” She offered Jack the smallest smile, which he returned as she climbed into his bed and settled in at his side. Jack rested the laptop across both their legs and hit play. As the movie went on, Jack let his eyes fall shut, slowly sliding down his pillows as he fell asleep. Kim watched his chest rising and falling again and felt her heart might explode. /Maybe an afternoon nap isn’t a bad idea/, she mused. She let her own eyes close, and in time, sleep found her too.
***
Kim awoke to find her head resting on Jack’s shoulder. Admittedly, it wasn’t as romantic as she would’ve liked - his fever seemed to have broken in his sleep, and he had sweat through his gray T-shirt. But Kim didn’t mind. She was used to sweaty boys at karate practice, anyway. And this was Jack: it would’ve taken much more than that to drive her away from him. As she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, she realized with a jolt that Jack was awake, too.
“Morning sleepy head,” he chuckled. Kim sat up hastily and fixed her hair, slightly mortified. If Jack had already been awake, he was no doubt aware that she had been sleeping on him for the past… what time was it, anyway? She glanced at Jack’s computer screen; the movie credits were rolling.
“When… when did you wake up?” Kim asked.
“Just now, same as you. I think the medicine helped, I feel a lot better,” he said happily. Kim wondered hopefully if that was not the only thing he was happy about.
“That’s good. Looks like your fever’s broken,” she added.
“Yeah, I think so. How could you tell? Oh…” Jack glanced down at his chest, noticing for the first time the sweat stains around his neck and pits. When he looked back up at Kim, he was blushing slightly.
“Um, I think I’m gonna jump in the shower,” he said sheepishly. He began to extricate himself from the bedding, sliding off the mattress until his feet hit the floor. Kim was surprised by his reaction. The both of them sweat like pigs at karate practice all the time, and Jack had never been self-conscious about it before. In fact, he was distinctly unabashed. Could this have something to do with the impromptu nap they just took together? Kim’s thoughts were interrupted when Jack spoke again.
“It’s getting close to dinner time. Are you sure you don’t mind hanging out with me all day?” Jack asked.
“Hm? Oh no, not at all,” she answered.
“Okay, good,” Jack replied, looking reassured. He began to pace around the room, grabbing a towel and a change of clothes from his closet and carrying them into the bathroom. Kim was pleased to see that he had regained some of his energy. Then, to her bewilderment, Jack stripped off his T-shirt and flung it into his hamper, leaving him in just a pair of sweatpants. Kim couldn’t look away. Jack was all tan skin and lean muscle, a thin scar on his elbow from an old skateboarding injury, and scattered bruises from sparring practice. Kim felt her heart flutter in her chest. Jack too became immobilized. He had realized just a moment too late what he’d done: that he was now standing shirtless in the middle of his bedroom, with Kim perched on his bed, wide-eyed and pink-faced. He pointed awkwardly at the bathroom door.
“Uh, so I’m gonna-“
“Yeah-“
“And, you’ll-?”
“I’ll just be here,”
“Right.”
“Good.” Jack nodded and disappeared into his bathroom, leaving Kim to fall backward onto the bed again. She pressed her burning cheeks into her hands, asking /God, why did I have to stare?/
***
Jack stepped out of the bathroom smelling of tea tree and spear mint. The bruise on his cheekbone was purple and shiny against his pale face. For clothes, he’d chosen a green Bobby Wasabi Martial Arts Academy hoodie and a pair of gray sweats. Kim thought he looked quite cozy. As he walked over to her, he chucked his bath towel in the hamper and gave his hair a shake, spraying her with droplets of water.
“Stop it!” She giggled, playfully shoving his chest. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“I am a little bit. But the shower kinda drained me. I think I’m ready to lie down again,” he admitted.
“Of course. What do you say to a change of scenery?” Kim suggested.
“Sure. Let’s move this party to the couch,” Jack agreed. The two of them headed down the stairs and Jack led the way into the living room, a high-ceilinged room with a big black leather couch, and an entertainment center sporting a sizable flat screen TV. Jack settled heavily onto the chaise portion of the couch and pulled a throw blanket up to his chin.
“You hungry for dinner? I can make us something before I sit down,” Kim offered.
“That’s okay, Kim. You already made us lunch. Let me handle dinner. I’ll order a pizza.” With Kim’s agreement, Jack dialed the number for the local pizza joint, and within 30 minutes, the two were smashing a large pepperoni and olive pizza, with Jack picking the olives off his slices and giving them to Kim. For a moment, Kim allowed herself to imagine that this was what it would be like to have Jack as her boyfriend: movie dates and pizza nights and falling asleep on his shoulder. It was everything she wanted: just a simple life with him. It saddened her to think it would end in just a few days, when Jack was feeling better. When they finished their dinner, Kim took the empty pizza box and plates out of their way and picked up the TV remote from the entertainment center. She scrolled through the channels aimlessly, looking for something to watch.
“Ooh, the Bachelor is on,” she squealed, selecting the channel. Jack groaned.
“Oh come on, Kim, I’m already sick. This is going to make it worse.”
“Sorry Fever Boy, but I have the remote, so I get to choose.”
“Not if I take it from you,” Jack said mischievously. He lunged across the sofa and sprawled onto Kim’s lap, trying to snatch the remote from her hand. Kim shrieked and held it aloft as she scrambled to get away. Jack proceeded to tackle her onto the couch. He held Kim flat on her back with her right hand pinned over her head, still gripping the remote. Their laughter suddenly stopped as their faces came within inches of one another. There was silence for a moment - a shared breath - then Kim snatched a throw pillow with her free hand and walloped Jack over the head. As it connected with its target, Jack let out of yelp that was less than playful, and Kim stopped, suddenly fearful.
“Jack? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, just… where Milton punched me… it’s tender…” Jack dragged himself off of Kim and sank back onto the chaise, gingerly rubbing his bruise.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” Kim apologized as she righted herself. “Let me get you some ice.” She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a bag of ice wrapped in a kitchen towel.
“Thanks,” Jack muttered. He held the ice to his cheek, closing one eye as he did so.
“I thought you said it didn’t hurt,” Kim couldn’t help but point out. She was feeling pretty guilty, having taken their game too far.
“Uh, I lied,” Jack confessed.
“Why?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was a wimp.”
“Jack, of course I don’t think you’re a wimp.”
“Well sometimes I am,” Jack said under his breath. He and Kim fell into silence wherein Jack iced his face and Kim watched him, confused.
“Like when?” She asked finally.
“Like when I was too sick to go to practice today,” he muttered. Kim’s eyes floated up to the ceiling.
“Jack, I know you didn’t want me and the guys to see you like that, but being sick is not something to be embarrassed about.”
“Oh, I’m not finished,” he said. “I was too sick to go to practice, and I couldn’t admit it. Then, I really wanted you to stay with me after you brought me home, but I didn’t tell you. That’s wimpy.” Kim blinked at him, stunned. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack kept going. “And… and when you asked me to cotillion. I was scared of what our friends would think, and of having to dance in front of a bunch of people, so I said no. I let you down. That was me being a wimp,” he concluded. Kim had practically stopped breathing. She was gazing at Jack, but his eyes were on the floor. Quickly, almost reflexively, she reached up and pressed her hand to his forehead.
“No fever,” she said softly - incredulously. Jack looked up from the floor and half-laughed.
“I guess what I’m saying here, Kim, is sometimes, when you say how you really feel, you make yourself vulnerable. And I’m not always good at that.”
“I think you’re doing a pretty great job right now,” she replied. She removed her hand from Jack’s forehead to brush a strand of hair away from his face, and he covered her hand with his. Slowly, gently, their fingers interlaced.
Jack let their hands fall into the space between them and surveyed them thoughtfully. They were both crosslegged on the couch now, their knees mere inches apart.
“Well, I’m gonna do better from now on,” he promised. “I just need you to be patient with me.”
“Of course,” Kim replied. She squeezed his hand as she had in his room, and was delighted when he squeezed back. Then, Jack set her hand down in her lap and instead, took her face in both his hands, leaned forward and touched their foreheads together. He took a deep breath and Kim was sure he was going to kiss her; she let her chin tilt up, her lips parting slightly. Jack’s eyes flickered to them and he broke away, suddenly laughing.
Kim blushed furiously but Jack said, “Have you forgotten I literally have the flu right now? We’ll be lucky if you don’t get it just from spending the day with me. I’m not increasing your chances any further.”
“Ugh! You little-“ Kim seized the throw pillow and whacked him with it, this time aiming below the neck. Jack shielded himself with his hands, laughing so hard he started coughing again. Kim didn’t let up. She attacked him with that pillow until finally Jack grabbed it and attempted to wrestle it from her hands. He pulled the pillow hard into his chest, and Kim, refusing to let go, came with it, falling onto Jack and knocking him onto his back. Now, chest to chest except for the pillow between them, Kim couldn’t stand it. She flung the pillow out of the way and pressed her lips to Jack’s.
Her heart did a cartwheel as Jack did not pull away, but instead, returned the kiss with interest. He kissed her with a hunger, like he’d been wanting this for months, years even. All at once, any insecurities Kim previously held, any doubts about whether he felt the same way about her that she did about him, melted away. And just when Kim was sure he’d break it off, he deepened the kiss, nibbling her lip and running his hand through her hair. It was glorious - everything she had imagined it would be. They might have stayed like that for hours - if not for Jack being so sick. He couldn’t get any air through his nose and after a while he could not resist the urge to cough any longer. When he finally broke away, he twisted away from Kim and released the heaving cough into his sweatshirt sleeve. When he was finished, Jack sniffled for a moment, catching his breath. Kim was still lying on his chest.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“Never better,” Jack croaked with a grin. Kim rolled off his chest and let him sit up.
“I should let you get to bed. It’s getting late, and you need to rest,” she said.
“Aw, not now,” Jack pouted. He took Kim’s hand in both of his and gave her his most charming, persuasive smile. Kim willed herself not to melt.
“Come on,” she urged. She stood up off the couch then, hauling Jack to his feet. They walked hand and hand to the base of stairs, Jack dragging his feet as they went. When they got there, he rocked back and forth on his heels, evidently thinking something over. Kim waited expectantly for him to speak. She was not eager to leave him, but as it was getting late and Jack was ill, she was running out of excuses to stay. It was taking all of her resolve not to drag him back to the couch and kiss him senseless.
Then Jack said, “I guess we’re past the point of trying not to get you sick, huh?” Kim laughed in response.
“I guess so,” she agreed.
“Well, then there’s no reason for you not to stay,” Jack said hopefully. Kim’s eyes widened in surprise and Jack grinned at her flustered expression.
“Oh, Jack, I couldn’t, I-“ she babbled.
“C’mon,” he drawled, pulling her towards him. “Just stay with me. Please.” There was no point fighting it; Kim’s resolve crumbled on the spot.
“Okay,” she conceded. Jack had never looked more pleased as he stepped forward to kiss her again. Then, Kim allowed him to lead her up the stairs, joking as they went, “but when I get the flu, you’d better come over and take care of me.”
“You got it,” Jack smiled.
***
Back in his room again, Jack gave Kim an old T-shirt and pair of sweat pants that he’d outgrown for her to wear to bed. Kim was sure she’d never been so comfortable, not even in her own clothes. Then, she handed Jack two more NyQuil to take - “I don’t want you waking up in the middle of the night with a fever,” she’d said - and suppressed the butterflies she felt as he stripped off his sweatshirt in preparation for sleep. Finally, the two settled into Jack’s bed, Kim resting her head upon his chest. As she closed her eyes, she smiled to herself: she couldn’t have dreamed of a better sick day than this.