That day, Nathan felt dizzy in class. Every time he blinked, the room seemed to tilt a few degrees to the left.
He hadn't even finished a full glass of Roger's "sweet" cocktail, but his head felt like it had been stuffed with lead and set on fire.
During break time, he slumped onto his desk, burying his face in his arms as the rest of the students filtered out. He didn't have the energy to move, let alone eat.
He felt a presence beside him before he heard the footsteps. A cool, steady gaze had been fixed on the back of his neck all morning, and now the shadow of that gaze finally moved closer.
Zane.
"What happened?" Zane's voice was low, concerned. "Are you sick?"
Nathan didn't lift his head. He just shifted slightly, his voice muffled by his sleeves. "No... but I feel dizzy."
"Why?"
