Friday morning, Layla rolled over in bed, groaning as her phone buzzed incessantly on her nightstand. She reached for it, squinting at the screen. It was a text from Aaron.
Aaron: "You ready for tonight?"
Layla sighed, her body aching as she struggled to sit up. She typed back a reply, her fingers heavy on the keyboard.
Layla: "Need to take a raincheck."
The response came almost immediately.
Aaron: "What happened?"
She snapped a quick selfie, sticking a thermometer in her mouth for added drama, and sent it with the caption: "Your homegirl is sick."
A little over 30 minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Layla, still bundled up in her blanket, shuffled over and peeked through the peephole. Aaron stood outside, holding a paper bag. She opened the door, her brow furrowing.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
He held up the bag. "Bread and butter. Classic sick day essentials."Layla managed a small smile. "Thanks, but Annie already dropped off some of her mom's soup this morning before school. It's on the kitchen counter."
"Perfect," Aaron said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. He made his way to the kitchen, found the soup container, and began heating it up. Layla shuffled back to the couch, sinking into the cushions with a groan.
A few minutes later, he appeared with a steaming bowl of soup and a spoon. "Eat," he commanded, handing it to her.
She took it reluctantly and sipped. "Why aren't you at school?" she asked between bites.
Aaron leaned back in the armchair opposite her. "I've got somewhere to be this evening. If I go to school, Coach won't let me skip practice. So, here I am."
Layla gave him a skeptical look but was too tired to question further. Once she finished the soup, Aaron rummaged through her medicine stash, found some fever reducers, and handed them to her with a glass of water. She swallowed the pills and mumbled a tired thanks before curling up on the couch.
"Get some sleep," Aaron said softly. She nodded, her eyelids already drooping. Within minutes, she was out cold.
When Layla woke up, the afternoon sunlight was dimming. She heard voices in the kitchen. Dragging herself upright, she padded over and found Annie and Aaron talking quietly.
"This doesn't seem like 'friends with benefits,'" Annie said, raising an eyebrow at Aaron.
Aaron shrugged. "Well, there is friends in 'friends with benefits.'"
Annie smirked but said nothing more. Layla joined them, rubbing her temples. "Hey," she said hoarsely.
"Your fever's not going down," Aaron said, his brows furrowed in concern. "I think you should go to the hospital."
"No," Layla said firmly. "I'm fine."
"You're clearly not fine," Aaron countered. Annie laughed softly, shaking her head.
"There's a reason she doesn't have a single tattoo, even though it would totally fit her aesthetic," Annie said, grinning.
Layla glared at her. "Don't."
"She's terrified of needles," Annie finished with a laugh.
Aaron chuckled, the tension in the room easing slightly. "Seriously?"
Layla groaned. "Yes. Okay? Happy now?"
Aaron smiled. "Well, I guess we'll just have to convince you. And I promise, no needles unless absolutely necessary."
After much coaxing and reassurance from both Aaron and Annie, Layla finally agreed. They piled into Aaron's car and headed to the hospital. Once there, the doctor checked her vitals and determined she needed an injection to bring her fever down quickly.
Layla's eyes widened in panic. "You said no needles!" she hissed at Aaron as the nurse prepared the shot.
"I said 'unless necessary,'" he replied, not bothering to hide his amusement.
Annie laughed as Layla reluctantly rolled up her sleeve. "You're going to be fine, drama queen."
When it was over, Layla mock-glared at both of them. "You're both traitors."
Annie grinned. "You'll thank us when you're feeling better."
As they were about to leave, Aaron called them an Uber. "I've got some… stuff to do," he said vaguely, avoiding Layla's questioning look.
"Stuff?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes.
"Just stuff," he said with a small smile. "Rest up, okay?"
Layla and Annie climbed into the Uber, but instead of heading straight home, Layla whispered something into Annie's ear. Annie's expression turned serious, and she nodded. The Uber driver changed the destination without question, and soon they were pulling up to the hospital's outpatient wing.
"I'll see you later," Layla said to Annie, her voice low.
"Good luck," Annie replied, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before heading out.
Layla took a deep breath and walked inside, her steps hesitant but determined. She followed the signs to the psychologist's office, her stomach twisting with nerves. As she turned a corner, she froze.
Aaron was sitting in one of the chairs outside the same office, his leg bouncing anxiously. He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and their eyes met. His jaw dropped slightly.
"No way," he muttered.
Layla blinked, her own surprise mirrored in his expression. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aaron rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "I could ask you the same thing."
They stared at each other for a moment before Aaron sighed. "Listen, we didn't see each other here, okay? I can't have people thinking I'm seeing a psychologist."
Layla's lips quirked into a faint smile. "It's fine," she said, sitting down in a chair a few spaces away from him. "Your secret's safe with me."
He glanced at her, his expression softening. "Thanks."
"What time's your appointment?" she asked.
"5:30. Yours?"
"6:30."
Aaron nodded, and they fell into a companionable silence. For once, there was no teasing, no tension—just an unspoken understanding between two people who were both carrying invisible burdens.
As Aaron's name was called, he stood up and hesitated for a moment. "Hey, Layla?"
"Yeah?"
"Take care of yourself, okay?"
She smiled faintly. "You too."
With that, he disappeared into the office, leaving Layla alone with her thoughts.