724Chapter One: Getting In Trouble For It...
by: Secretive
I learned there are troubles of more than one kind.
Some come from ahead, others come from behind.
But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready, you see.
Now my troubles are going to have trouble with me.
- Dr. Seuss
It didn't take that long for Ana to track me down, apparently hiding in the fitness room wasn't as sneaky as I thought it was. (Granted I did buy myself an entire day by hanging out with the unusually fit people.) Or she knows me too well and headed to the one place that I would never be. Because if I'm hiding, I usually head for the one place that no one would ever expect to find me. For some reason, this doesn't work at home anymore; usually I have to instead hide in the one place that my family would expect to find me. Moreover, it always makes me laugh when it takes them three hours to find me, especially when I'm just upstairs, reading in my bedroom.
"YouSHOVED him into the fountain! Do you realize how COLD the water is right now!"
I glanced up from my fetal position behind one of the scary looking machines and realized that she apparently just wanted to go straight into the yelling. "Um...yeah?" Jeez, why does she think I shoved him into a fountain in the first place?
"What if he gets sick, Wilhelmina?" Ana demanded, using my full name so that I understand how mad she was. I, as per usual, shuddered at the sound of my name. And who wouldn't? Wilhelmina? If it weren't for Ugly Betty, no one would know that it was actually a name. It should be dead, my parents should have just let the name die instead of trying to revive it through me. "Wilhelmina"...why not just name me "Kick Me" and get it over with?
Oh, Ana's still talking...
"...You're going to be the one I call then! It's all on you!"
Definitely thinking I missed something there. However, asking for her to repeat herself would be certain death at this point. Jeez, what to do? What to do?
"Um...okay?" I replied, testing the waters. If she looked angry at that response, then I know that I chose the right thing to say. However, if she looks happy...well, then I'm pretty much screwed.
"Seriously?" She asked, frowning. "You're actually saying that you'll take care of a sick Spencer?"
"Wait, what?" I asked, immediately jumping to my feet. "I'm promising no such thing! I can say that I'll probably laugh at a sick Spencer, maybe even kick him while he's down, but in no way am I saying that I'd actually care for a sick Spencer!"
She grinned when she registered the fact that I wasn't happy about the news. "You agreed."
"I take it back!" I exclaimed, "I'd sooner poison the guy than help him get better!"
"Wilhelmina, I have six hour labs and lectures practically every day, I physically don't have the time to care for my boyfriend, and he's already getting sick. Besides, you're the one that did this to him. Therefore, it is your responsibility to get him better."
"I—I..."
"His favorite soup is vegetable, I suggest you make him some." She announced, then turned and walked out of the fitness room, her long black hair swinging with her every step.
I glared at her back, "I hate you right now, Ana Lopez." I muttered and then groaned, getting to me feet and heading towards the door. I was dragging my feet, so by the time I made it out of the rec fitness center, she was long gone. She was probably off to one of her many science classes; classes that were apparently screwing me over.
Stupid Spencer.
How could he get sick so easily? When you look at him, you'd think he'd be on of those kind of guys that never let sickness bring him down. He's over six feet tall, he works out, he has a lip ring for Christ's sake! He looks like tough stuff, which would only make someone believe that he was actually made out of tough stuff. But no, they'd be wrong on that assumption, apparently. Spencer's a big, freaking pansy.
With my own little rain cloud over my head, I stomped over to the guy's dorms. Rolling my eyes at that immaturity level of guys in their natural element, I started up the stairs of the Yoder dorms, then stopped when I ran into Jeffrey Patters. I swallowed hard, wondering if I should duck behind...well, there was nothing in the stairway, so I guess that idea was out. Still, I searched pathetically for something to hide behind.
"Hi." I greeted, smiling at him.
He immediately blushed and ducked his head down, his ash blond hair falling into his eyes. Then, without saying anything back to me, he quickly hurried down the stairs and out the door before I could say anything else. I watched him go for a moment, and then tried to figure out if I was upset by his behavior or not.
It definitely hurt...
...But not as much as I wanted to hurt Spencer.
Yeah, I totally decided that anger would be the best way to deal with Jeffrey treating me like a black widow. Except not anger at Jeffrey, no, anger at the guy that totally screwed my chance with Jeffrey in the first place.
What's Spencer's problem anyways? Why did he have to go and tell Jeffrey Patters about my crush? Why couldn't he have just tormented me about the fact that I had a crush that he knew about? I'd much rather he do that than anything else. He could have held it over my head and I would've been more okay with it than by what he had actually done.
Who goes out and tells someone about someone else's crush on them? It's just sick and wrong.
God, I hate Spencer Romero.
I think he should just die.
That's it, that lip ring is coming out.
With narrowed eyes, I stormed up the steps, down the third story hallway, and straight into Spencer's dorm room. However, once I made it inside of said dorm room, I kind of wished that I had at least knocked on his door first or something. Perhaps that would've woken him up from his sleep...
The sight that my eyes had to rest on was a shirtless Spencer, asleep in bed. He was laying on his side, his black hair falling completely into his eyes. His right arm was curled beneath him and his thumb was a lot closer to his mouth than I'm sure that he'd ever want anyone to see it, while his other arm fell over the edge of the bed. And his bare chest...well, yeah, it was obvious that he worked out, but not in that creepy way: he had the perfect degree of muscle for his frame. And he didn't really have a prominent six-pack, which is pretty cool (I find those things a little disturbing and yeah, I know that girls are supposed to be into them and everything, but...they're just so hard. They're nice to look at, but who seriously wants to cuddle up to something that hard and unforgiving?), or would be pretty cool if it weren't on him.
But here's the thing that got me: he had freckles. Not the kind that you tend to find on redhead or across the bridge of a nose or anything like that. He had a ton of freckles, but none were in a group. He also had a trail of hair the met the edge of his boxers, and there were a few freckles around there too.
It was a disturbing sight, for sure.
"Spencer." I murmured and then rolled my eyes, "Yo, idiot." I said a little louder, crossing my arms across my chest and glaring at him.
He opened one eye and then the other, then blinked a few times before looking up at me. "What do you want?" He asked in, if I may say so myself, a very rude tone. Well...okay, groggy and confused, but I'm going to take it as rude because I feel like it.
"I'm apparently supposed to nurse you back to health."
He rolled his eyes and sat up, "Yeah, and have you poison my soup? I think not."
Whoa...how'd he know that I wanted to do that? My Lord, are my evil schemes just that obvious? Lord, that means I'm going to need to get a bit more creative in my musings... I wonder if he knows about how much I want to rip his lip ring from his lip?
"Fine with me, tell Ana I tried." I said and then pounced on him. His eyes widened in surprise and he moved as though to get away from me, but I was too fast for him. I was heading for that ring, dammit, he was going to feel pain! He was going to bleed!
"What the hell are you doing?" He exclaimed, holding me off him with one hand as I tried to grab at his lip.
"How dare you say that to Jeffrey! You've ruined all of my chances, you prick!" I screamed, glaring daggers at him.
"Obviously I was doing the man a favor!" He replied, shoving me off him and off the bed. I stumbled a bit, but caught my balance once my back hit the wall. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shirt before shooting him another glare.
"I will get my revenge, you cad."
He rain a hand through his hair and got to his feet, "There is something wrong with you, you know that, right?"
"No, but I do know that there is something wrong with you." I snarled, "Why would you do that? You deserve to get sick, you're...you're a bad, bad person."
"I'm a bad, bad person?" He questioned, "Are you even trying to be insulting anymore?"
"Shut up, you nimrod." I muttered beneath my breath, glaring at him. "Do you just get off on destroying things for me?"
He rolled his eyes and walked over to me, "Do you honestly want to know what I get off on?" He asked, getting way too close to me.
I shifted against the wall uncomfortably, realizing suddenly that I was trapped like a rat. "You know what? I take it back." I announced, wanting to shove him off me, but not wanting to actually physically touch him.
He leaned down so that his face was level with mine, "What's the matter, Washington?" He asked, his dark eyes looking so...calm. And mocking. But there's always mocking in his eyes when he's looking at me.
The prick.
I pressed myself as close to the wall as I could get and then glared at him, "At the moment my only problem is the fact that you're not getting out of my face."
He smiled, the action so sudden that it truly surprised me, and then pushed himself away from the wall and went back to his bed. "Problem solved." He announced, crawling back into bed. "You can leave whenever."
I glared at him for a moment (once I got my bearings) and then headed for the door. I was about to leave, when he started to cough. And it sounded like it may have hurt him a little. But only a little bit. It sounded like a cough that was just going to steadily get worse with time.
Sighing, I turned back around to look at him. "Ana doesn't really have time for you, you know."
He glanced up from underneath his covers at me, "So now you're trying to hurt my feelings?"
I rolled my eyes, "I don't actually think that you have any." I replied and then sat down at his desk, "But it's the truth, you know. She wants to be a doctor and that means that she's always in one lab or another."
"I know."
"She doesn't have the time to take care of you while you're sick, if that's what you were thinking."
He raised an eyebrow, "You think I'm pretending?"
"Maybe."
He sat up, the covers falling down to his waist, "Why would I fake it?"
"Obviously for the attention." I said, spinning around in a circle.
"I don't need my girlfriend's attention all the time." Spencer replied, "I'm not that kind of guy. Besides, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating her. She told me right off that she was going to be busy, especially since this is our junior year and everything." He scratched the back of his head and shrugged, "I knew that she was going to be busy. I've been dating her for three months and I barely see her."
"And what? This is no big deal to you?" I asked, stopping myself by grabbing onto the edge of the desk.
He frowned, "Are we having a conversation here? Because I'm not all that sure that I'm okay with that."
I glared at him and got to my feet, "Fine, whatever."
He chuckled and stretched back out in bed, "Your comebacks suck, by the way."
"I believe you've already said that."
"It had to be mentioned again."
"I really don't like you, you know that right?" I retorted, jumping to my feet. "I hope you cough up blood." I said as an exit and then dramatically left his dorm room.
-:∞:-
"He tried to have a conversation with me without a shirt on!" I complained later that day, walking with Ana back to our dorm. She just rolled her eyes and continued to look over one of her many science text books.
"He doesn't like to sleep with a shirt on, he overheats." She murmured, flipping a page.
"You could've warned me about that one."
She sighed in irritation and jerked her head up to look me in the eye, "Willa, what do you expect from me?"
"To take care of your own damn boyfriend?" I asked, trying to not glare at her.
"You're the one that did this to him, so you're the one that should help him get better."
"I have classes too, you know."
"You're an English major."
"I'm an English/Sociology major and you know it." I stopped walking and outright glared at her, "And I'd really appreciate it if you stopped acting like my double major means nothing to your biology major."
"You don't have six hour labs, now do you?" Ana asked and when I didn't answer, she turned back to her book. "You also don't have to take as many math classes or anything like that. And until you have to, I won't believe that your majors are harder than my one."
"You know what Ana? You're acting like a real bitch." I said, then stormed away from her.
For some reason, being a therapist and a writer in no way averages out to be in the same category as Ana and her quest for medical school. Sometimes I swear she acts like there's something wrong with me, because I don't want to become a doctor like her. Never mind the fact that I'm going for a doctorate; if I'm not aiming for John Hopkins, then I'm settling. I'll still be Dr. Washington, but it'll mean nothing to her Dr. Lopez. As far as I'm concerned, we're equal: she'll work on the body and I'll work on the mind. We're both in the health field.
So why does she have to put down my life goal?
I stomped all the way to the commons' area of the Yoder dorms (which is where I dorm, the guys are on the top two floors, the girls are on the bottom two) and flung myself onto an empty couch. Then I curled up on my side, so my back was towards the room. It was what I considered my "Back Off, I Don't Want to Talk to You" position, but Ana told me it resembled more of a fetal position than anything else. But whatever, it usually had the outcome that I wanted. Well...except for the times when people come up to me and ask me if there's something wrong. Which actually happens a lot as well...
"What's wrong?"
Like today apparently.
I glanced up and groaned when I saw Spencer hovering above me, "Go away."
He frowned for a moment, then glanced behind him. I followed his gaze to see that Ana was finally making her way into the dorm building. When I turned my eyes back to Spencer, I was surprised to see him crouching down beside the couch so that he'd be out of sight to anyone walking down the hall. The moment Ana walked past, he went back to standing up.
"What was that about?" I asked, my curious nature immediately roused.
"It was nothing." He murmured and then let out a little hacking cough. He grimaced afterwards and then glanced down at me, "So what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"So you're curled up like that because...?"
"It's my ticked off position." I announced, shaking some of my straight black/brown hair out of my eyes.
"Really? Because it doesn't look like a ticked off position, it looks more like a cry for help." He replied, sitting down on the edge of my couch.
I pulled myself up into a sitting position and raised an eyebrow, "And what would you call your ducking behind the couch? Because that definitely looked like a cry for help."
"That wasn't a cry for help. That was...just..." He trailed off and then sighed, "I don't need any help."
"Least of all from me?" I asked, glaring at him.
He coughed again, the sound wet and harsh, and then nodded his head, "Something like that." He said in a really raspy voice. Then after a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. "What are you doing?" He asked, obviously noticing how I was suddenly looking through my bag. Letting out a sound of happiness and victory, I pulled out my unopened bottle of Sprite and handed it to him.
"You should really be drinking liquids right now." I said, twisting the cap off when he didn't make a reach for it, the lazy bum.
He shook his head, "I'm not thirsty."
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be drinking."
"I'm good."
"Have you taken any medication for this?"
"Like I said, I'm good."
I crawled off the couch and then walked over to him and laid my hand on his forehead, "You're burning up." I declared, taking back my hand. "And you're not pushing fluids or taking any kind of medication? Are you some kind of idiot?"
"I don't want to take any pills or drink anything."
I stared at him like he was a moron for a moment and then slowly nodded my head, "It hurts to swallow right now, doesn't it?"
He shrugged a shoulder, not meeting my eyes. "Maybe."
I shook my head and gathered up my things, "Fine, I'll go get some Chloraseptic spray and some Advil."
He frowned, "Why?"
I hesitated for a moment and then shrugged, "Because I'm bored."
He nodded and then took the Sprite from me, "Thanks."
"No problem."
God, I hate him.
A/N: Wow, I've been working on this chapter every day since I posted the last one. I've always known that I was pretty busy and everything, but this kind of proves it. Man, I'm not a fan of this whole college thing—although I'm less of a fan of the snow at the moment. Winter is my favorite season in the world (which is evident throughout my stories—I'm still trying to find one that I didn't immediately start off in winter or the end of fall), but the snow is really becoming a problem. I couldn't get to school on Wednesday because of it, because I couldn't get my car out of my driveway.
Anyways, thank you all for reading! It was great to see that people still find my stories interesting, even after all my failed attempts at other stories—which reminds me, I'm working on one-shots for Micah and Haleigh's story as well as Graham and Maggie's (although theirs might just end up being a short story/really long one shot). And thanks to all the people that checked me out on MySpace—it's always cool to meet readers. And if you ever want to find me on FaceBook, I'm the only black Whitney that goes to Goshen College.
Now, some of you may have already realized that this is a little different from my other stories—the reason? I'm trying out something new. I'm not switching between points of view in this story, it's going to all be in Willa's perspective. Oh, and there's a lot more cursing. I'm sorry about that, she just came out sounding like that and I've never been the biggest fan of censoring characters (if you ever read my story under my other penname, you'll realize that right off the bat), although I did do it for Thatcher...I'll probably be working on that too. I hope this doesn't offend anyone. And...um...I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!
Soundtrack to this chapter: (Please don't judge...) "What Goes Around...Comes Around" by Justin Timberlake, "Everything is Everything" by Lauren Hill, "Famous Last Words" and "I Don't Love You" by My Chemical Romance, and "Canon in D Major" by Pachelbel.