A Place on My Pillow

The zoo was fun. The next Tuesday, when the pair went to the movies and saw a crappy action flick was fun too. The next several Tuesdays were fun, even though their game of Truth had been abandoned. That is, until a month of Tuesdays later, and Pollyanna had come down with the stomach flu. She lay on Alex’s bed, moaning miserably as her stomach twisted uncomfortably in her gut.

“Aleeeeeeeeeeeex!” she whined. He walked in, carrying a bottle of ginger ale and a sleeve of saltine crackers.

“Hi whiner. How are you feeling?”

“Baaaaaad,” she said with a pout. He sat on the bed with her, setting the items down on the bedside table. Gently, he pressed the inside of his wrist into her forehead and frowned.

“You’re running a fever,” he explained.

“I could’ve told you that, genius!”

“Shut up, sass master. I will hurt you.”

“No, you won’t,” she said with a small, yet miserable smile. She hadn’t been sick in years. She’d gotten colds and laryngitis, hay fever and migraines. But the stomach flu? She hadn’t thrown up from being sick since she was in middle school.

“No, I won’t.”

She rolled onto her side and stared up at Alex.

“I think,” Alex said, walking over to the desk where he found the remote, “we should watch crappy chick flicks and lay in bed for the rest of the day.”

He turned on the TV and then the cable box and glanced at Polly, whose eyelids had already started to slip down. He turned the channel to one of the movie networks specifically for bad TV movies. This one played chick flick dramas and romances all day, every day. He knew Polly, better than she thought he did. He knew that she would never admit to it, but given the choice, she would always choose the TV movies.
Before he joined Polly, he closed the door to the room, turned off the light and opened the curtain so it streamed in the early afternoon sunlight.

“Thank you, Alex.”

“For what, Polly?”

“For… taking care of me. It means a lot to me, that you’re doing this.”

“Whatever,” he said nonchalantly, but they both knew he was blushing.

“Before I fall asleep, let’s play some Truth,” Polly suggested.

“Okay, shoot.”

“This is a two-parter. Do you allow it?”

“It’s allowed.”

“Good. Here it goes. You come across a time machine. It takes you to meet 16-year-old Alex, what piece of advice do you give him?”

“Uhm. That’s a good one. Very good. Hmmmmm. I would probably tell him to hold on. When everything seems so dark, there will always be that one thing to hold onto. Hold onto it tight.”

Polly glanced at the TV just as some guy was stabbed by a busty, rail of a woman.

“Alright, parte dos!” she said as enthusiastically as she could manage while her stomach was worming its way out of her belly button. “You step back into the time machine and you meet 37-year-old Alex. What do you hope he has accomplished?”

Alex took a while to answer this one, thinking it out carefully. Polly liked it better when he did. He always had such thoughtful, insightful answers. She knew how she would’ve answered this question.

To part one, she would’ve told Young Polly that her looks aren’t everything that’s important about her and that there will come a time when a handsome, well-versed man would woo her. Current Polly would tell Young Polly to be careful with who she handed her heart to.

As for part two, she hoped that Older Polly would be married with a kid and a house, still working at the bookstore with Millie, stocking and dusting. She could even have a little photography business on the side and that would be very fine. Perfect, even. Nothing too extravagant, but a life she could live with.

“I’d want him to have a wife, a kid or two. I’d want him to tell me that he was an environmental geologist who was helping to solve global warming. Maybe have a house that’s mostly paid off.”

Polly ignored the similarities.

“Good answer,” she replied.

“My turn, then?” he asked. She made a noise of affirmation. “If you could choose one of your personality traits to pass on to your children, what would it be?”

“That’s. That’s a good one. Uhm. I think, it’d be my morality, I guess. I never stole unless absolutely necessary. I’ve never done anything really bad and it’s because I knew that it would come back and bite me in the ass. It always does.”

Alex nodded.

“Your turn,” he replied softly. Abandoning the movie, they both turned to face each other. In the soft light from the open window and the glow of the television screen, each could make out the other’s face. Alex’s was flushed with color, from being so close to Polly in such an intimate manner while Polly’s was vacant of any color, the sickness draining the rosy-tint out of her cheeks.

“Guilt-Free Three. Go.”

“My whosie-whatsit?”

“Your Guilt-Free Three. It’s the three people in the world that, when you’re in a relationship, you could theoretically have sex with and it’s perfectly fine.”

“You’re making that up.”

“I am not.”

“Surely, you jest.”

“Sir, would I?”

“I suppose not. So, three people that I would have sex with, whether I was in a relationship or not?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Okay, let me think about this. This is a completely new territory for me. I didn’t think there would ever be such a luxury!”

“Well, you, obviously,” he said jokingly. She giggled and buried her face into his pillow. She yawned and he listed three women, shrugging.

“I have no idea who any of those people are but I’ll take it.”

“I suppose it’s my turn then?” he asked.

Polly nodded, even though her attention was on the hairs that were sticking up off Alex’s forehead. She stared at them, considering whether or not to fix it. On one hand, it was really adorable but on another hand, she couldn’t focus on anything else but that.

She hadn’t realized that Alex had asked her a question as she reached out and pat the hairs down, until they lay flat with the rest of his hair.

“Polly?”

She looked down to his eyes. Every time, she was still stunned by his eyes. How could they be so impossibly pretty?

“Yeah?”

“Did you even hear me?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“What’d you say?”

“What is one reason why someone should not fall in love with you?”

“Oh. That’s a good one,” she said softly. “I’m really bad in relationships. Like, I’m really inconsiderate. I’ll forget birthdays and dinner plans, just because I wanted to go get my nails done. I think that’s the worst thing to do, consider yourself before your partner. And before, that’s all I would do. I was a horrible person. Still am, I think. I haven’t been in a relationship in a while, so maybe I’ve changed but I can’t imagine that I’ve changed that much.”

Alex was more than shocked. He never expected that out of her.

“Wow. Really?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. It’s not something I was proud of.”

He nodded but said nothing.

“What talent do you wish you'd been born with?”

“I wish I could dra-”

He was cut off by Polly bolting off the bed, out of the room and into the bathroom. Alex got up and followed behind, kneeling by her as she threw up the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. He held her hair back and rubbed her back. Afterwards, she rested her cheek on the edge of the bowl.

“I hate being sick.”

“Do you need to throw up anymore?” he asked. She shook her head. He stood up and wet a washcloth, dropping back down beside her. “Sit up.”

She did and he wiped her mouth gently. She smiled slightly.

“Come on, up you get.”

He helped her to her feet and stood her in front of the sink, wetting down her toothbrush and pushing toothpaste onto it. He leaned against the wall, watching as the wobbly girl brushed her teeth.

She tried to speak but it came out as a bunch of mumbles.

“Hun, I can’t understand you,” Alex replied. She rolled her eyes and held up a finger, indicating that she’d repeat it in a second once she was done. She spit and brushed her tongue, completely ridding the sour taste of vomit from her mouth.

“Ugh. I really hate that taste. Anyway, I said I need a nap.”

“I can do that.”

Once she was done, he took her hand and they walked back to his room. He closed the curtains and she crawled under the sheets.

“You know, your bed has got to be made out of clouds or something. I’ve never slept on something so beautifully comfortable. Which is really saying something because my boyfriend bought me this really expensive TempurPedic bed. It was comfortable but this mattress,” she said with a tired smile, “This is heaven right here.”

“Glad you like it.”

He crawled in with her and instinctively, Polly cuddled up to him. He slid a hand into her hair as her head rested on his chest.

“Sleep good, Polly.”

“Mmmmmmm,” and with that, Polly was asleep.