I Hope He Is A Gentleman

I threw up in the women's bathroom of Consol Tuesday afternoon. I had been feeling a little off all morning, and by 2:30, my stomach was all over the place. Lucky for me, Anna was in the bathroom at the same time, and she had gone through it all a few weeks ago. She crouched next to me and helped pull my hair back while I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I finally pulled back from the toilet and sat on the floor with my eyes closed, just trying to catch my breath.

"You're burning up," Anna commented, removing her hand from my forehead. "This is exactly how it started for me, too." I nodded, finally coming to grips with the idea that no amount of airborne was going to stop me from getting the flu that was terrorizing the staff.

"I think I need to go home," I mumbled, trying to stand up but needing Anna's help thanks to my heels.

"Definitely," she agreed, holding the door to the bathroom open. "Let me walk you back to marketing."

Toby was incredibly sympathetic the minute he saw me -- I didn't even need to say the word 'flu.' He told me to rest up, and that he'd see me in a couple of days. Henry helped me get my stuff together, and told me not to worry about anything. I thanked Anna for her help before she left to go back to her department. I may have felt horrible, but I could at least make it to the subway and back home.

A large group of players were making their way down the hall just as I was turning out of marketing, and right in the middle of them all were Geno and James. If I didn't feel nauseous before, I certainly did now. The group stopped right next to me when we finally met. "Where're you headed, Remy?" James asked.

"Home," I muttered, hitching my backpack (which was now useless to me, because I certainly would be skipping class tonight) higher on my shoulder.

"You don't look too good..." Chris Kunitz trailed, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I think I have the flu that's going around."

"Did you throw up?" Asked Sidney, and I nodded slowly.

Ben Lovejoy pushed through the group and towards the door. "I hate vomit," he declared. "Now I'm gonna retch." Some of the guys chuckled, but the mere word made my stomach turn.

"I hope you feel better," Kunitz said, some of the other guys echoing his statement, and I thanked them. Slowly, the group followed after Ben, leaving me, James and Geno, who stood awkwardly to the side of us.

"How're you getting home?" Asked James, reaching out to put a hand to my forehead. I closed my eyes at his touch, wishing it was Geno who was so interested in how I was feeling. Unfortunately, Geno was staring at us with the same blank expression as always.

"Subway," I murmured when he pulled his hand away, muttering about how warm I felt.

"That's a joke," James declared. "C'mon, I'll give you a ri -- "

"No," Geno interrupted, stepping towards us. "I take her." Now I was definitely going to throw up. Geno's gaze was burning a hole in me, and James watched us with visible interest.

"Okay," he responded flatly. "Text me later, Remy, so I know you're okay." I nodded, but continue to stare at Geno. Finally, James left us and walked out of the Consol Energy Center.

"Here, give me," Geno said, taking my bag off my shoulder and putting it on his. I nodded, and we turned and walked towards the door and to his car. "Your parents home?" He asked as he started the engine.

I shook my head. It was midday, they were both at work, and my sister was surely at school. "No, no one's home."

"Who take care of you then?" Geno insisted, backing out of his parking space.

"I have the flu, Geno, I'm not dying." But clearly, that wasn't good enough for him.

"No, we go to my house. I watch you." And I wasn't about to say no to that -- no matter how much Geno frustrated me at times, and how I was basically convinced my feelings for him weren't returned, I wanted to be around him. I wanted to be around him so much.

The rest of the drive was silent, and I let my head rest against the cool window. I was absolutely freezing, and I started to notice aches in my back and legs. I imagined that Geno would have a giant sofa in his house with a knit blanket I could curl up in. I tried not to imagine Geno curling up next to me.

I think I may have dozed off, because the next thing I saw was Geno standing over me, my backpack on his back as he unclipped my seatbelt. "Want help?" He asked, but I shook my head. Slowly, I stepped out of the car, and under Geno's watchful eye, up the path to the door. Geno let us in, and I followed him into the kitchen and slipped off my heels by the table. That definitely made a difference, and I felt like I had my feet back. "Come," Geno instructed, leading me into his living room. Geno's kitchen and living room were nice enough, not very intricately decorated, but they definitely had a sense of being lived in. "Sit," he instructed bluntly, and I sat down on his sofa like he said to. "I get medicine, check temperature. Stay."

I nodded and made myself comfortable, including helping myself to the faux-fur blanket that was draped over one of the sides of the sofa. I fell asleep before Geno could return.