Counseling: The Sick Day

The umpteenth time Elly ran to the bathroom Hizashi raised his head from his pillow and waited for her to come back.

"You ok, babe?"

"No... my stomach is killing me. Cramps." She shuddered as she got back into bed. "It's gonna suck working through this."

"Dude, you went like, fifty times to the bathroom in the past hour. Yer sick. Just call out." He yawned and threw an arm over her. "You never take sick days. You're like Shota."

"Ugh. I have problems with doing that. Once, I managed to convince my mother I was sick - she never believed me unless I had, like, over a hundred degree fever --  and..." She froze.

"Wha, baby? What's wrong?"

"I don't want to keep telling you these terrible stories. Plus, this one, I don't know, maybe she was right."

"Ohhh no." He rolled over on top of her and deliberately gave her the look he knew made her weak: his one eye squinted and the other huge. "No way, princess. Tell me, or I'll tickle it out of ya."

"You <i>wouldn't</i>!" She clutched her aching belly, her eyes wide.

"Try me," he said, grinning like a fiend. "Plus, it might make you feel better..."

"No no no! I'll talk!"

He snickered. "So cute."

"Don't get off, though. The pressure feels good."

"'Kay. Like I need an excuse to lay on top of you all night." He rolled his eyes.

"Where to start. Well, she never believed me. So one day she did, and I started playing with this science toy, you would connect parts of it to make it work. It was kind of complicated. I managed to get it going and I was so proud of myself. When she saw this, she assumed that if I could do that I had been faking. So she packed me up and drove me to school, even thought the day was already half over, and the absence still counted for the year."

"Did you fake bein' sick?"

"I don't think so. I think I had anxiety so bad I felt ill. I mean, after enough days getting tortured, pretty much, by the kids, it wore on you enough that you needed a day off. But I can't remember. The fact that she let me stay home, though, makes me think that I had to have had <i>some</i> symptoms or something."

"Your poor tummy gets upset right away. Maybe you threw up."

"Maybe," she said dubiously. "I just remember that it was always a fight to stay home if I felt bad, especially after that. I was sick a lot. I mean, people with depression get sick easier, and I was also a worse insomniac than I am now. That could've been part of it, too."

"Nmm. Still think y'should call out." His head had dropped to her chest as he snuggled into a comfortable position.

"I think I might."

"Good."