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The pungent scent of hot ginger had never seated right with me since the day I became unfortunately aware of its noxious existence. On a tray and up the stairs, I’d bear with it day after day when I was young; if only in the hope that it’ll make Mom feel a little better just as Dad assured me it would.

Along with an array of porridges, tablets, cough drops… you get the picture.

But for the time being, with what I had available to me currently, ginger would suffice.

“Oh no, don’t, don’t – I can smell that from here,” Amanda continued to protest, sniveling and red-nosed, snapping her head at me from the back of the couch. “Please don’t. You’ll only make it official if you make me drink that.”

Yet much like a snot-nosed brat refusing to take their medicine, her pleas simply went ignored. I placed the cup of ginger onto a saucer, a faint streak of piping white steam trailing with my pace forward; rounding the edge of the couch.

It’s like the more things change, the more they stay the same. Once again, I’m that little boy with a tray in his hand…

Amanda peered over the rims of the cup, and instantly her face went shriveling up like a dying leaf.

“Ugh…” She groaned, her lips falling to a frown. “Couldn’t you have just made me a coffee instead if you really have to give me something?”

.....

“Caffeine impedes, not help,” I said.

“You just made that up just now, didn’t you?”

“Drink,” I said, slipping the saucer into her unwilling fingers. “And don’t just pretend to. I wanna see big gulps, do you understand?”

“Aw, mom…” she groaned again, but against my unyielding gaze, she finally complied, puckering her lips into a long anguishing sip that turned her face almost green.

“I’m fine, alright?” She mumbled over the top of her drink, wiping away another line of sweat from beneath her tousled bangs. “I’m just feeling a bit under the weather. It happens. It isn’t a big deal.”

But I wasn’t hearing it.

“Drink, Amanda. Trust me. Only way you’re going to make this stop.”

Seeing no other way out of my coddling, Amanda relented herself to her fate, and slumped back in place, sipping the rest of the tea with extreme prejudice.

Meanwhile, I had a longer, proper assessment of the absolute state she was in… and suffice it to say, it wasn’t just her that was looking rather decrepit.

Her shelves, her furnishings, everything seemed to have been only halfway organized. Her computer was also left whirring on a half-written essay with at least a hundred tabs hanging open. I opened her fridge earlier and there were even some leftovers I looked to have only partly consumed.

All in all, not exactly the makings of a woman ready to leave for the evening real soon.

“So,” I finally turned to address her. “Were you planning on letting me know about you any time soon, or did you just hope I’d be too dense to notice?”

“Neither,” Amanda thrust an empty cup and saucer back. “I thought I could simply just power through it maybe. I mean, this… this is all just mind over matter. Yeah, mind over matter. That’s all it is.”

“And sometimes I wonder what’s the matter with your mind…” I reached over, huddling closer, placing my hand over her forehead, and I swear I could almost see wisps of smoke hovering from the point of contact. “Mmm, all that method acting and movie-making must have finally caught up with you. Quite a fever you got.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re delusional.”

“No – don’t give me that talk. I know exactly what you’re thinking,” she heaved out, wriggling herself away from my touch. “I tell you I’m unwell, what happens next? There goes our date tonight… and who knows for how long too?” She let out a throaty, raspy cough, glaring. “Over my dead body, mister.”

“You’re not supposed to take that phrase literally, in case you didn’t know.”

“Just…” trembling, she struggled to leave the couch, rising only roughly about three inches into the air before collapsing as an even paler, feebler mess of grimaces and groans. “...thirty minutes, okay? please? I’ll rest a little, and then I’ll go get ready, get dressed. We’ll have fun. Like this all never happened”

I didn’t want her to speak any more than she had to, so I kept quiet, pretending to agree with her, but really the moment I see her make a move for the door, I’m dragging her to bed and confining her with ropes if that’s what it’ll take.

As far as I was concerned – this date was already over before it even began.

Amanda closed her eyes, curling herself in a shivering ball of aching pain – and seeing that I made a beeline for her bedroom, swiping the thickest, comfiest blanket I could find there to cocoon her body with like a sumo eskimo or something.

Slowly, I began wrapping the blanket around her and as I did, the back of my hand lightly grazed her skin, and once again, it was almost like I just burned myself with a hot piece of iron.

Really, should have known her exuberance wasn’t as infinite as it seemed to be. Going out every other day, doing something every other hour… shouldn’t be surprised this even happened.

Only just why did it have to be now? What are the odds? Out of all the days in the year, it had to be the one day I finally took initiative.

“Sometimes I feel like the entire universe is conspiring against me…” Amanda quietly muttered. “I was just fine this morning, and as soon as I decided to get ready… I’m dizzy, I’m feeling funny, coughing, sniveling. I was probably fourteen the last time I felt like this. You can’t tell me this is just coincidence.”

“More like a case of extremely bad timing,” I said, wiping a damp strand of hair away from the corner of her lips. “Don’t get too hung up on it, alright? Think healing thoughts.”

“Oh no, you’re talking like that too,” She said, peeking at me through heavy, narrow slits. “You’ve already accepted I’m not going to get any better, the evening’s gone now…”

“No, it isn’t,” I softly assured, lightly stroking her cheek and feeling the feverish blaze. “I’m here, you’re here…”

“You’lll say you’ll stay?” She shook her head, feebly turning the other way. “No, you don’t need to nurse me.”

“Seriously?” My eyes widened a little. “Thought you’d be pretty keen on having me pamper and treat you for the whole night.”

“I rather you do something you want to do.”

I snorted. “As if this isn’t already something I want to – ”

“Something else,” She interjected, coughing harshly, her cocoon wobbling. “If you’re here, all I’m gonna end up thinking about is how this evening is spoiled. You go and you do something else – at least I’ll be happy knowing one of us is still having fun.”

“Oh Amanda, c’mon now,” I said, leaning over at her like a soft pillow. “You’re just being mopey because you fell sick. Y’know, like a kid who wanted to go swimming, but now he can’t because it started to rain. That’s basically you right now.”

“Recently, it feels like it’s always been raining…’

“So we’ll get an umbrella,” I said. “A little rain can also be a bit fun too.”

“But I don’t want a little rain,” Amanda stirred again in her wooly shell, glancing back at me looking like the most adorable, spoiled kid I’ve ever seen. “I wanted you…”

“I’m here.”

She shook her head again, exasperated. “Not like this.”

“Still, I’m here,” I said regardless.

“There’s nothing to do, nothing to enjoy…”

“I’m here.”

“And I might make you sick too, I’d rather not have that on my conscience…”

“I’m here.”

“Augh, I even looked up the restaurant you’re taking me to. The food looks so good too! I wanted to try it, I wanted to go out. I wanted to have fun. I wanted… I wanted…”

I grabbed her hand poking out the fabric, entwining my fingers with her fiery coldness, and I said it one more time, “I’m here.”

“Oh my God, Chester,” Amanda groaned. “You’re supposed to be suave, not stubborn. I’m alright with you going.”

“So, in turn, you’ll be alright with me staying.”

“Oh? And tell me how does that – ?”

“I’m staying.”

“But you – ”

“I’m staying.”

“Stop – !”

“I’m staying!”

“Alright, fine, stay!” She finally conceded, hacking the words out extremely grudgingly. “Pamper me all you want. Be my nurse! Go get sick too and have a boring evening with me! Your loss!”

So she says, so she complains, yet while also clinging onto my hand even tighter.

“And if you wake up tomorrow feeling sore all over… if you leave here hungry… if you leave feeling tired… and bored, and coughing, and with your coupons expired… and… and…”

“Then I’ll know it would have been all worth it,” I simply said. “Because face it – you do want me to stay, don’t you?”

She didn’t answer.

“Don’t you?”

The pressure around my hand burned a little hotter.

“I’m trying to mope here…” she grumbled grumpily, burying herself deeper into her husk. “...don’t make me actually say it, alright?”

And that’s all I needed to hear. Finally, this girl’s done drinking her bitter tea.

“I’ll go get you some more ginger.”