I can’t breathe from my nose and I can hardly breathe from my mouth. My whole body aches and I’m stuffy and I just want to die.  When the doorbell rang I weighed my options. Maybe whoever it is will go away. I’m not expecting anyone. Go away! I just want to die in peace.

The doorbell rang again.

I took a deep breath and slowly made my way to the front door. When I opened it Justin was standing there with a smile, “Hey.”

“No.”

“No?” he repeated with a chuckle.

“Yeah. No.  Brent was supposed to call you. Didn’t he call you? I’m sick. I’m not faking it or trying to make an excuse, I’m really sick.” I sneezed as if to prove my point, not that I could help it either way.

“I know he called me. I believe you. Can I come in? It’s raining.”

“Oh,” I moved to the side so he could walk in.

“Brent did call me. He said you were sick and had to cancel but would love to reschedule,” he chuckled, “I like that guy.”

I tried to laugh but coughed up a lung instead, “You should go I’m going to get you sick.”

“I’m fine, I’m immune to everything don’t worry about me. I brought you some chicken soup and some tea. You probably have tea but this is an amazing ginger tea that I always drink when I’m touring. It helps when you have a sore throat.”

I looked at him for a minute before answering. I don’t understand him. At all. “Thank you?”

“Yeah, of course.  I brought some movies. And a puzzle.”

“A puzzle?”

“Yeah, a puzzle,” he chuckled holding up the box, “It’s the Eiffel Tower 3D. I know you spent a couple years in Paris so I figured…”

That’s really sweet.

What is wrong with him?

Another coughing fit broke my thoughts.

“You sound horrible.”

“I feel horrible,” I agreed.

“Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll make you some tea. Do you mind if I use your kitchen?”

“That’s fine. The mugs are on top of the…”

“I’ll find it Jules, go lay down.”

I grabbed a box of tissues and made my way to the couch pulling the blanket over me. I really need to try and figure this guy out. What does he want? Why would he spend his only night off this week with sick me? It’s not like I’m good company or anything. He’s here so he can take care of me. We met once, why does he want to take care of me?

I don’t get it.

There is not one single thing I get about this man.

I don’t have the energy to fight. I feel like complete shit so if he wants to waste his night making me tea I’m not going to stop him.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed me a cup of tea. I sat up so he could sit on the couch, “No, lay down I’ll sit over here.”

“I can’t lay down and drink tea, just sit here.”

“Alright,” he chuckled and sat down next to me.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“No I’m not. Even if I do it’ll be a good break, I’ll get some time off. Then you can come over my house and take care of me.”

“Not gonna happen,” I answered with a smile.  “I don’t get you.” there’s no need for me to try and figure it out. I’m too sick and my brain isn’t working like it usually does. I’ll just ask him straight out, not that he’s going to tell me the truth but whatever.

“You don’t get me? What don’t you get?”

“Everything.”

He laughed, “Well, you’re going to have to narrow it down a little if you want me to help you get me.” I just looked at him, trying to figure out where to begin, “You’re definitely over thinking it. I don’t have any hidden agenda or anything, there’s not much to figure out.”

“OK, to start. Why are you here? I mean it’s your one day off all week.”

“I already cleared my schedule for you before you got sick.”

“So? I’m all gross and snotty and congested. There has to be like a million other places you’d rather be right now.”

“No, not really. You’re sick.”

“Exactly.”

“I have some stuff that’ll make you feel better. Being sick sucks, I know you could use the company.”

“See, there’s something wrong with you.”

I’m glad he thinks it’s funny, “There’s nothing wrong with me. I just think you’ve been hanging out with the wrong kind of people if you think everyone’s got a hidden agenda.”

“We’re in Hollywood.” I reminded him; of course everyone here has a hidden agenda.

“That is true. I like to stay away from that whole Hollywood scene as much as possible.”

I sneezed and blew my nose, sexy… very sexy. “Are you sure you’re not like Slugworth?”

“Slugworth? From Willy Wonka?” I nodded my head, “Do you have an everlasting gobstopper?”

Every time I laugh I end up having a coughing fit. This sucks.

“No,” he laughed, “I’m not like Slugworth. I’m not here to steal your sketches.”

“Ok,” I said before taking a sip of the tea, “This tea is amazing.”

“Yeah, it works too so that makes it even better.”

“I love that movie.”

“Willy Wonka? Yeah, it’s a good one.”

“Did you bring it?”

Justin chuckled and reached for the bag, “That would be really creepy if I did, but no, sadly I did not. But, I brought a movie that’s just like it. Very, very similar.”

“Not the Johnny Depp version.” I hope not, I hated that remake.

“No way, that was horrible. Its not that similar, doesn’t have the same title or anything but besides that, it’s pretty much the same.”

“OK? So what movie is it then?”

“The Notebook,” he said as he pulled it out of the bag.

I had another coughing/laughing fit. How on earth is The Notebook anything like Willy Wonka? “Stop making me laugh, it hurts.”

“Alright, sorry” he laughed putting the DVD on the coffee table, “I’m not sure what kind of movies you like so I brought a couple. I’m not sure if you’re a chick flick kind of girl.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he grabbed the other DVDs, “I got Shutter Island or…”

“Shutter Island!” I broke in. I’ve wanted to see that but don’t have much time to go see movies ever.

“Yes! I was hoping you’d say that. I got a copy a couple weeks ago and haven’t had a minute to sit down and actually watch it.”

I nodded my head and moved to sit on the ground while I grabbed the 3D puzzle box; “I haven’t done a puzzle since I was a kid. I always wondered how these 3D ones work.”

“Yeah, me too. I hear they’re hard,” Justin said as he sat down next to me, “Were you near the Eiffel Tower when you lived in Paris?”

       I nodded my head while I coughed off a lung; “I had a real nice view from my room.”

       “Do you speak French fluently then?”

       “Yeah. They kind of shun you over there if you don’t.”

       “I noticed that,” he chuckled before putting two pieces of the puzzle together, “I’d say they’re worse than any other country.”

       “For sure,” I agreed.

       “Did you know anyone over there before you left?”

       “Some friends from school went over the same time I did.” He asks a lot of questions. This fucking puzzle is insane. I haven’t gotten two pieces that are even close to fitting. How does he keep finding some? He must be a big puzzle man.

       “It must have been hard being away from everyone though. Are you close to your family?”

       I threw the puzzle piece in my hand back on the coffee table, “You ask a lot of questions.”

       “Just trying to get to know you,” he answered with a smile.

       “That’s fine but I feel like I’m being interviewed.”

       “OK, sorry. We don’t have to talk about family.”

       “It’s not that,” I said before smashing the puzzle that he had finished and standing up, “This is too hard. I’m hungry, are you hungry?”

       He looked at the smashed puzzle in shock as I laughed and walked in to the kitchen.

       “Does that mean no?”

       Justin chuckled as he made his way into the kitchen, “I brought you soup.”

       “I know, thank you. I’ll eat it. I’m just one of those people that eats a lot when they’re sick.”

       “That’s not normal.”

       “It’s completely normal,” I assured him, “My stomach doesn’t hurt it’s just everything else.” I tossed him a delivery menu and grabbed my Blackberry.  “You can order right? Cause my throat…”

       “Your throat huh?” he asked with a crooked smile. He has a really sexy crooked smile, just a side note. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile like that before. I think he should do it more often. I nodded my head, “You’ve been talking just fine, Jules.”

       “I don’t like calling.”

       “Why not? Is there something you’re not telling me?” there’s that smile again.

       “It’s hard to understand their accent.”

       He threw his head back as he laughed, another sexy thing he should do more often. “It’s an Italian restaurant.”

       “So?”

       “You lived in fucking Milan!”

       I laughed for a second but caught myself, “I’m sick,” I whined.

       “I see that,” he chuckled and held his hand out to collect my Blackberry. “What are we getting?”

       “Mozzarella sticks, the stuffed mushrooms, garlic bread WITH cheese, maybe the calamari, do you want to write this down? Boneless buffalo wings, with extra blue cheese and extra celery, make sure you say extra cause they’re really skimpy with it.”

       “Alright, I got it.”

       “I’m not done, wait. We have to get the chocolate and orange risotto too, it’s the best there.”

       “You weren’t kidding when you say you eat a lot when you’re sick,” he laughed, “Is all this to share or should I be getting my own food?”

       “I mean, you can have some, but get whatever you want. Maybe we should get the tiramisu instead. It’s really good too. Which one would you rather have?”

       He chuckled again and shook his head before talking into the phone, “Hey, can I place an order for delivery? Thanks. An order of stuffed mushrooms, garlic bread with cheese, calamari, and mozzarella sticks, a chocolate and orange risotto and a tiramisu. And some boneless buffalo wings with extra blue cheese and extra celery. Yeah, make sure there’s extra blue cheese and extra celery, don’t go skimpy on me.”

       I laughed as I poured myself another glass of tea. He’s kind of a dork.

       “All set,” he said as he handed my phone back to me, “She didn’t have an accent at all, for the record.”

       “Weird,” I laughed as I warmed up the soup in the microwave, “Do you want something to drink? I can’t, but I have plenty of booze, you can help yourself. There’s beer in the fridge.”

       “I’m fine with a soda, thanks Jules. Are you feeling any better? You don’t seem to be coughing as much.”

       I shrugged, “A little maybe. I need to take more meds when the food comes. But they kind of fuck me up, so be warned.”

       “They fuck you up?”

       “Yeah, I get loopy and stuff. But if we put the movie in I should be all right. I just can’t like, walk or anything.”

       Justin laughed at my explanation. He laughs a lot.  “Alright.”

~~~

I woke up to the sound of a car door closing and walked to the window to see Justin pull out of the driveway. I don’t remember anything after I took my meds. We ate dinner and were watching Shutter Island but that’s all I got. I looked over at the microwave to see it’s eight thirty in the morning.

       There was definitely food left over, where did it go? Oh, ok he put it in the fridge. As if this whole situation wasn’t confusing enough to begin with, now we can add to it that I have no idea what happened last night. AND he doesn’t leave shit around in my own house, he cleaned everything up while I was passed out. Obviously, something is seriously wrong with him.

       I grabbed the leftover buffalo chicken from the fridge and made my way back to the couch. I noticed a note on the coffee table.

              Jules,

I didn’t want to wake you up but I have to get to a meeting. I put the leftovers in the fridge last night and left the tea. You fell asleep within the first ten minutes of Shutter Island so I left that too. I’ll get it next time I see you. I hope you’re feeling better. I’ll call you later to see how you’re doing. Let me know if you need anything.

                            Justin xo

       I feel like… I don’t know how I feel. I feel weird. I don’t understand so many things about Justin. It’s like he’s from a different planet or something. I reached over and grabbed my phone.

       “Hey.”

       “Hey, can you come over?”

       “Yeah, are you alright?”

       “Uh huh,” I nodded my head, “Yeah I’m ok, I think, I just… come over, k?”

       “I’ll be right there.”

       “Thanks Mel, I’ll see you soon.”