It took us twice as long to walk back to the house. I brought her to the bathroom inside of my bedroom to check her vitals, and offered her a cool bath. Pulling the thermometer away, I felt my eyes widen to cartoon-rivaling surprise.

"One-oh-four!"

She swayed forward on the edge of the tub and I held her steady with one hand, turning the faucet on with my other.

Stripped down to her bathing suit, I set her in the tub, but she lurched forward, vomiting the remnants of vanilla ice-cream into the water. It dripped down her navy blue bathing suit. Without asking I pulled it away, not looking, not wondering. I was only dutiful. Fully-clothed I got into the tub and lifted her up, kicked the plug out of the drain and turned the shower head on, sending cold water streaming across her skin. I held her like that; a limp little doll, my Topolina. She threw up twice more. I held her steady. It was the first time in my life I was honestly angry that my father was shit-faced and useless. If she had a seizure . . . if her fever wouldn't break quickly enough . . . if I had to call Timothy and not be able to give her one fuckin' day of happiness without doom . . .

"You're all right," I consoled, trying to move her wet hair away from her face with one hand, holding her up with the other. "It's all right, Everly Anne. Just let me hold you. You're all right." But she sounded as if she was crying. We stood under the cold water for what seemed like forever, waiting for the fever to calm.

"You're shivering, Callum."

"I don't have a fever threatening to boil my brain. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're the first man who has ever seen me naked and I puked on you." She groaned weakly, leaning out of my grasp and against the tile wall. "This is why I don't have friends."

"I don't give a damn about you puking on me. It's the last thing on my mind right now."

"I . . ." She leaned on me for support again. "I want to lie down. I can't stand up anymore."

"Hold onto me, Peach. You've got me? No, I won't drop you. I promise. I promise. I'd never let you fall."

With her arms around my waist I eased her down into the tub. She curled against me with the water spraying on us. The fire on her skin had calmed considerably, but she was still weak. I washed her hair and face, careful to keep my eyes to myself as she sat naked in front of me, touching me with her hands on my knees to hold her up.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I cradled her face. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"You should be downstairs having fun. Not doing this," she replied.

"And you think this is the first year I have avoided being "downstairs"?"

"Last year you were having fun with Amelia."

I groaned. "Let's recount last year, shall we? Last year Noelle had a boyfriend and didn't give a wild fuck about her friend Amelia. Last year Amelia sat on my bed trying to get me to drink with her while I was studying. Last year I kissed her-she tasted like cigarettes and tequila. Last year I touched her-I felt nothing but her shape. Last year? Last year, Everly Anne, she passed out drunk with her underwear still on and I was grateful for the extra time to study. I slept on the couch downstairs."

"That's not what was implied earlier."

I touched her cheek. "Are you asking me if I've ever had sex with her?"

She was quiet and then, "Yes."

"I've slept with her. It was during high school. In another life practically."

"Did you date?"

"I thought I implied we didn't date."

"High school seems like a long time to carry a torch for someone you've only slept with."

"It's the doctor shit. I already told you this. First time I heard a peep out of her since high school was after Cornell accepted me."

Everly was quiet despite the questions lingering in her eyes. She looked down, roaming my wet clothes and then held her arms across her chest as if she suddenly realized she was nude.

Her face was cool. I drew her up, pulling a robe from the back of the door to wrap around her.

A wall was now between us where there had once been a tether. She might as well have been in the clouds. Without speaking I bent and lifted her into my arms to carry her to my bed.

I pulled my wet shirt away and tossed it into the tub. Grabbed a dry pair of shorts from my closet, changed, and went back to her.

So quiet and guarded she stared up at me as I swept her peach hair across her forehead. Only our fingers spoke as I soothed her scalp with a massage, and she traced absentmindedly along my knee.

I took her temp, sighing when it read under one-hundred.

As I handed her a glass of water I asked, "How badly would you kill me if I hooked up an IV?"