Though the headache dissipated by the
next morning, the sneezing fits grew stronger over the next couple of days. It
became so horrible my chest ached just thinking of another sneeze. The school
sent a physician to ensure I wasn’t dying on Wednesday; he concurred I should
stay away from school until the sneezing receded. He was unsure of what I had
contracted, but he didn’t want another student coming down with the same thing.
Part of me wondered if that had anything to do with his toupee flying across
the living room.
Friday, I asked my mother’s driver to
take me to school to gather assignments and lessons from my teachers. It seemed
to take forever to go anywhere; every step I took felt reversed by an ensuing
sneeze. Eventually, I gave up and asked the driver if he would please collect
my assignments for me while I waited in the car. He didn’t complain, which I
hoped was a good thing, and he was much more efficient about it than I would
have been.
That night was spent between
stargazing and playing catch-up. I was grateful for the lazy week off, but loathed
the cold that caused it and the homework that came with my absence. As I stared
up at the inky sky with its coverlet of stars, I couldn’t help but wonder where
Drei was. What was he doing at this moment? Was he off saving someone else? Or
fighting criminals in general? Was he alone? With friends? With a loved one? But
mostly, was he thinking about me, too?
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