Being Sick

“Being sick sucks!” Joey cried. He curled the thermal blanket tightly around himself and stared out the porthole.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you went swimming naked in the Jezrak, kid,” I said. I countered my harsh tone by tucking the blanket tighter around him. I topped of his juice glass, to boot. See? I can be nice.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Joey replied in his best rebellious-teenager impersonation. Only an impersonation as it was a year too early. Kid had always been precocious.

“I understand that Henry and his bunch dared you to do it and you couldn’t just walk away,” I chided. “You know enough from classes to know just how dangerous that water is. You’re lucky you’re not worse off.”

“Yeah, well now I’m bored,” Joey concluded. He made it sound like an accusation. Like somehow I was responsible for his state and therefore responsible for his amusement.

“Suck it up, kid,” I said. “Consequences are a thing.” I looked at the wall clock. “Let me tell you what. In about half an hour, if you take your meds without any fuss, I’ll rent us a vid.”

Joey hmphed, then broke into a coughing fit.

Some people just don’t appreciate my nice side.

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