"Octavia!"
My grandma's voice rang out sharply from behind the door.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath. "Amanda, get in the wardrobe!"
Amanda darted into the wardrobe like a cat caught mid-leap. I quickly grabbed a wipe, cleaning my hands as fast as I could, then yanked the bedsheets and bedcover off my bed, rolling them into a tight bundle and hiding them behind the door. Thank goodness for the automatic air freshener in my room—it sprayed itself occasionally and at least masked the evidence of my chaotic night.
I could hear my grandma fumbling with the doorknob. It rattled and clicked as she tried to get in, and I forced my face into what I hoped was the weakest, sickliest expression possible. Slowly, I unlocked the door, praying my acting was convincing.
"Octavia! What were those noises…" My grandma began, but she stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell on my pale, sweaty face.
"Are you alright? Why are you so sweaty? I thought you were getting better," she asked, her voice full of worry.
"I thought so too, but my fever came back in the middle of the night," I lied, doing my best to sound pitiful.
Immediately, she helped me back onto the bed. Her eyes scanned me carefully. "Where are your bedsheets and bedcover?" she asked.
"They were soaked with my sweat, so I had to take them off ," I said, forcing a soft whine.
"Nana, why didn't you call me or Amanda?" She touched my forehead and shoulders, checking my temperature.
"I'm better now," I said quickly, before she realized how suspiciously normal my temperature actually was.
"Alright, I'll call Amanda to get you a new bedsheet and bedcover," she said, heading for the door, probably on her way to Amanda's room.
My heart jumped. I had to act fast.
"Granny, no! I'll get it myself. She was complaining of cramps when she came to give me my food and medicine earlier. I don't want to stress her—she's already tried so much," I said, forcing concern into my voice.
My grandma paused, studying me for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Oh really? Alright then. Don't bother yourself," she said before leaving.
I let out a long sigh of relief and ran to the wardrobe, signaling Amanda to come out. The laundry room was downstairs, and her room was just across the hallway, so she had enough time to dash there before my grandma came back upstairs.
But she paused, lingering for a moment too long. "Amanda, hurry up," I whispered urgently.
Is this girl possessed?
She turned towards me, and in an instant, she was moving. She ran to me, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and bolted down the hallway toward her room.
I stayed frozen for a moment, cheeks burning. My heart was racing, and my lips tingled from the brief contact. I don't mind this kind of possession at all, I thought, my stomach fluttering like crazy.
Not long after, my grandma returned, carrying fresh beddings. She helped me lay them neatly on the bed and made sure I was comfortable before heading back to her room, promising to check on me first thing in the morning.
Once she left, I collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts immediately wandered to Amanda—the way she moved, her quick laugh, her teasing expressions. My chest tightened, and my lips tingled again as I bit them softly, trying to calm the blush creeping up my cheeks.
The events from the past few days replayed in my mind. The little touches, the glances, the way she seemed to care in small, subtle ways that made my heart feel both heavy and light at the same time.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed me, but my dreams were filled with her presence. I didn't dream the impossible or inappropriate things my mind sometimes wandered toward when awake. Instead, I dreamed of Amanda's laughter, her smile, and the tiny moments that made her impossible to ignore. In my dream, she was approaching me, holding something—maybe a book, maybe just a silly smile—and I felt that familiar rush in my chest.
I woke suddenly, heart hammering, and flopped back onto the pillow, feeling my cheeks burn hotter than ever. Why does she have this effect on me? I wondered. My thoughts refused to quiet, even as I drifted back into sleep.
This time, my dreams were gentler. They were filled with laughter, warmth, and those fleeting moments of closeness that made my chest ache. Even though nothing "real" happened in the dream, the feelings lingered—intense, confusing, thrilling.
I smiled softly, hugging my pillow, and whispered, "I wonder what tomorrow will bring…"
And for the first time in a while, I felt that exciting flutter of anticipation that made even the ordinary seem full of possibility.
…To be continued.