His Deepest Secret

Days passed. There were nine more days until the contemporary versions of scenes were due. Charlotte and Anderson hasn't spoken at all since the last time they worked on the project. No, they had not even looked at each other. No words or glances were exchanged between the two. Yet, today Anderson had to talk to her. His grades could not afford to go down. In order to play football, he had to keep his grades at a 3.0. And so far, this project was the first of the year, meaning it would affect their grades incredibly.

Anderson saw her walk into the AP English class they both shared. Usually he was there before her, but he had been dreading speaking to her. She was the most judgemental person he had ever met; she knew nothing about him, but thought she knew.

Slowly, he opened the door and walked inside of the classroom. Passing his seat, he sat in an empty one right behind Charlotte, who was finishing up some homework.

"Hey." Anderson's voice was flat and unemotional.

Charlotte turned around slowly. "What?" she said with sharpness and brusqueness.

"When are we going to work on our version? Are we just going to ignore the due date that is coming up in nine days?" Anderson's tone was serious.

Charlotte's face changed and she pursed her lips together. "After school today?"

"Where?" he asked.

"I don't know? My house or yours?"

"Yours." Anderson got up and walked back to his desk.

Charlotte felt awkward at the idea of Anderson coming over to her house and into her bedroom, but she would rather have it that way than to go to his house and only piss him off more. In about three hours, she would have to be working with him on their project, and she was dreading it.

---

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rang. Charlotte walked downstairs to open the door, knowing who it would be. She let Anderson in and started walking back upstairs to her room. He followed her to her room and sat down in her huge bean bag chair. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes.

"You alright?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah. Just a headache is all."

"Uhmm, let's get this over with fast then," she said.

Anderson got paper, a pencil, and a copy of the play out, and together they began rewriting their scene into their own words. After an hour and a half, Anderson stopped writing.

"Can we go outside? I am burning up and can't breathe inside of this room." His face was set into a deep frown.

Charlotte did not feel cold at all. She could breathe just fine. Maybe her body was just out of whack and his was normal. "Yeah, let's go to my backyard. We have lawn chairs out there."

The two went downstairs, out the kitchen door, and into the backyard. Charlotte sat down on a lawn chair. She did not realize how cold it was outside and that she would need a jacket. Anderson sat down a chair away from her.

"You feeling alright?" she asked.

He did not answer, but sat there holding his head between his arms.

"Hey," she said softly. She moved his arms out of the way and placed her hand onto his forehead, feeling instant heat meet her skin. "You are burning up really bad."

"How badly?" he asked quietly, feeling a little fatigued.

"Badly. I have a thermometer inside," she said. She got up and went to get it. Anderson sat there quietly, waiting for her to come back outside with it. When she did, he placed it under his tongue and waited. After about a minute, he took it out and read the numbers.

"103.9. I need to go home," Anderson said.

"Are you crazy dude?! That's not good at all. You should probably go to the doctor's."

"No, that's too far of a drive," he said, standing up and walking towards the kitchen. Charlotte stood up and followed. "I think I left my stuff upstairs."

Before he could put his foot onto the stairs, Charlotte ran up them. Thirty seconds later, she was back with everything of his and her lanyard and phone.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm driving you."

"Hell. No." Anderson felt tired and weak. His voice did not come out very strong. His head was pounding.

Charlotte simply walked out of the door and got into her car. She had his keys and backpack, so Anderson could not do much besides get into the car with her.

"Alright, now take me home," he told her. To ease the pain, he closed his eyes, took deep breaths, and rubbed his temples.

Charlotte said nothing as she backed out of the driveway she shared with her parents and started driving down the street. The ride felt longer to Anderson, but he drove fast and he knew he did. Soon enough, the car was stopped.

Anderson opened his eyes to see that they were parked into a parking lot. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Anderson asked sharply, his eyes dark and cold.

"You need to go to the ER. Do you really think I would just drop you off at home, you dumbass," she said. She stood up and got out of the car.

Anderson would not budge, though. He would not be getting out of this car.

"Come on, Anderson," Charlotte said.

Anderson stared straight ahead, not giving her any attention.

Charlotte opened his car door and looked at him. "Your temperature is dangerously high, obviously you need to see a doctor. Stop being a douche because you hate me, and start being smart and realize that you really need to see a doctor," Charlotte told him.

Anderson got out without a word and began walking towards the ER. There was nothing he could do about this situation besides listen. As they walked inside of the emergency room, Charlotte noticed that the waiting room was crowded. On the way to the sign in counter, a doctor briefly walked in front of them, but abruptly stopped when he saw Anderson.

"Anderson? What's wrong?" he asked him.

"Dr. Lopez, hello," Anderson greeted him. "Uhmm-"

"He has a high fever of 103.9 and a head ache," she told him.

Dr. Lopez looked over at Charlotte and then back to Anderson. "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend. Follow me kids," he told them. The doctor led them to a patient room and began taking Anderson's temperature immediately.

"102.1. It must have went down some." He looked at Anderson. "You're looking pale. Did you ever pick up your prescriptions yet?"

"I haven't had time to," he told his doctor.

Charlotte sat in a chair in the corner, patiently waiting.

"You should have began taking them last week. Do you know how serious this is? You have to fight it, so do not just pass these things off as nothing Anderson," Dr. Lopez told Anderson in a very serious manner. "Have you gotten your other medication yet?" he asked.

"The other three, yes."

"Go down to the pharmacy, pick up your prescriptions, and take the proper amount of Ibuprofen and Tylenol as soon as you can. Do not get too cold or too hot. When you sleep tonight, cover yourself with a light blanket. If you decide to take a bath or shower, use lukewarm water," the doctor informed him. "Keep up with your medications, you have to Anderson. This is serious. I'll be seeing you in two weeks." Dr. Lopez gave him a meaningful look.

"Fill out this paperwork really quickly, you never signed in," he told Anderson. Dr. Lopez left the room for a few minutes while Anderson quickly filled out the two sheets. The room was silent until Dr. Lopez came back.

"Alright, you guys can go home now. Do not drive tonight or for a while, Anderson. Not until your fever goes down. Have a good night," he told the two and walked out of the room.

Charlotte and Anderson stood up and walked out of the room and out of the office. Without a word, the two went to the pharmacy and waited for thirty minutes until Anderson was finally called up to pay for his medications he would be given. After getting them, he bought a water bottle from the vending machine and took the pills as the pharmacist directed him to.

"Time to drive me home," Anderson told Charlotte.

She nodded quietly. Ever since the doctor began speaking, the words, "You have to fight it. . ." kept repeating over and over inside of her head.

"You have to fight it. . ." Fight what?

Charlotte was more quiet than usual, contemplating all the possibilities there were of what Anderson was fighting.

"Gonna unlock the door?" he asked her.

She had not realized she had been standing in front of her car door, staring at the handle. "Oh, sorry." She unlocked her car and they both got inside. The engine was revved. They began driving down the smooth, black road, heading toward Anderson's house.

Halfway there, Charlotte finally spoke. "Fight what?"

"Don't ask me about that. Just forget and drop it," he told her, his voice serious and blunt. His eyes were cold and dark. His face was pale, yet red with heat emanating from his skin.

How harsh his words were made her think harder.

"Why?"

"Just drop it!" Anderson's voice got louder, but not to the point of yelling.

Charlotte got quiet. Her thoughts continued on.

And suddenly, it clicked.

Her stomach and her heart dropped.

A gasp escaped her lips.

He knew she knew.

Shit.