When I thought of brave, I realized that two minutes had already passed and I walked towards his room. I knocked lightly on the door and went inside. He was sitting on the bed, struggling to get his shirt over his head. I rushed over to help him and casually slipped the t-shirt over his head. I waited for his sleeves to pass, then slid the shirt down his back. I was secretly thanking him for putting on a new tracksuit underneath.
"Are you better?" ' I asked, pushing her shoulders lightly. Without protesting, he lay on his back on the bed.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said in his low, cracked voice.
"But I'm here." I pulled the thin quilt up to my chest. "And I wonder what happened to you. Are you hurt? Are you sick?" ' I asked as I just stood there.
His eyes were closed, "It's nothing like that," he said through his teeth. I didn't know what to do or how to act. "Don't stand by me," he said, opening one eye.
