Hutch

11

DAISY

The weekend went by in a blur and then on Monday, I woke up still feeling all icky so I took myself to the student medical center. I got antibiotics and went back to bed. Missing classes wasn't ideal, but it was necessary. I was just too sick to go. The cold found its way into my chest and I've been hacking up a lung since Saturday night. So all I've really been doing is sleeping. I have managed to get through my classes today and my lab without causing everyone in the room to think I'm trying to infect them with Covid or something.

My job interview is tomorrow after classes so I'm hoping these antibiotics start working and I can get through it without sneezing or coughing my head off. The interview is thanks to Christa and I'm praying I get the job. It would take some of the stress off me. I'm going to start searching for scholarships so I won't be so strapped for cash next year. I'm a straight A student so there has to be a few I can find.

One of the girls told me Hutch came by to check on me yesterday, but I don't remember if I said anything or not. I literally just slept all day. Honestly, it was sweet, but I have no desire to get anywhere near a relationship or a casual situation. I honestly just want to focus on school and graduating. I don't have time for anything else.

My phone buzzes and I look at it as I sit down on my bed. I really should block her number, but I'm always afraid if I do, something bad will happen to her. At least if she leaves a voicemail, I know she's alive. Not that I plan on ever answering any of them, but still, she's my mother. My brother blocked her number years ago, but Gran loved her. She always spoke with her. I can at least make sure she has an answering machine to talk to if not me.

It goes to voicemail and I toss the phone on the bed, looking through my book bag for my meds. After taking the amoxicillin, I down the prescribed dose of cough syrup so I might be able to eat without coughing and puking like I did Saturday night. While I appreciated the soup, I did not appreciate the puke fest later that night.

I should go downstairs and cook, but I don't have the energy. I could go back to sleep and just snooze straight through the rest of the day. But I know I need to eat something or I'll end up sick to my stomach. Groaning, I get up and look through the small stash of goodies I have. A granola bar will at least get me through until I feel up to cooking. I swear I haven't been this sick since Homecoming my sophomore year in high school. I miss Gran making me homemade chicken noodle soup. We never really had a lot of money, but when me or my brother got sick, that's what we'd all eat. Making that would only make me miss her more.

Munching on the granola bar, I pull out my laptop and go over my notes for my biology exam tomorrow. Biology was always my strong suit. People told me all through high school I should study medicine because I was so good at biology and chemistry, but that's not what I want to do. I want to try and help addicts and their families because of what we went through. That feels more meaningful and impactful to me.

"Knock, knock!" Hutch opens my door without waiting for me to tell him to come in. He looks all cheerful and puppy dog happy today. He's in a pair of jeans and a team hoodie.

"I was studying."

"Did you eat yet?"

"I had a granola bar."

"That's not food."

"It is when you're trying to catch up on everything you missed."

He waltzes in and glares at me. "You're not going to get better if you don't eat."

"I'll find something later."

"Nope. I'll cook something for you."

"You can cook?"