by Jamie Knight
A short while later, I text him.
"How does this work? Who grades the assignments?"
I eagerly wait for his response. A few moments later, I'm reading his message:
"You could grade it first, then send it to me to double check and enter it into the book? Or we could split the workload and take turns with each assignment that is turned in?"
He's giving me a choice. This is a difficult decision.
"I think I'll go with the first one," I quickly text him back.
I like my choice. Not only will it make his workload easier, but I’ll get to show off my skills at grading again. I'm hoping I can earn a few more compliments or praise from him.
“Okay, sounds good,” comes his answer.
About an hour later, the first two assignments are turned in. I quickly get to work. After grading, I submit them to Chris.
He texts me shortly after.
"Excellent job. I'm not even sure you need me to double check them. Haha."
I laugh at his text and hurry to reply:
"I feel much safer working this way, like you are protecting me or guiding me."
He texts me back with a smiling face. Then, we lapse into silence. I feel myself growing warm and a little drowsy. I lie down to rest on the couch. I fall in and out of sleep for the rest of the afternoon and most of the night.
For the next two days, I work from my couch. I wake up happily to his good morning texts, and I always text him back as quickly as possible.
He compliments me on more of my "excellent work;” I smile every time. I can't deny how huge my crush on him is now, even though we don't get to see each other. By noon on the second day, there is a break in the amount of assignments being turned in.
I take a cold shower; I was hoping that would help me, but I still can't shake this icky feeling that I have in my body.
I quickly pull on my comfy sweats and go back to the living room, keeping the towel wrapped around my head because I'm still drying my hair. I check my phone and see his message waiting for me.
"How are you holding up?" he asks.
I sigh, debating on an answer.
Finally, I type, "Ok, I guess. How about you?" I hit send, then put the phone down so I can dry my hair.
After I dry it, I take the towel to the bathroom and come back with my brush. I sit there, brushing my hair and waiting for his response.
It takes a little while, but he responds, "I hear you. Have been feeling the same. Why does quarantine have to be so lonely?"
My heart twists. I feel sad. Now, I want to see him.
I put the brush down and type, "I feel the exact same way."
"It’s even lonelier when you're single,” he texts quickly back.
My heart pounds with excitement as I read that.
"I can definitely relate."
I wait for him to write back. The fact that he's single has my mind and heart racing. I start to think about the things we could do together.
After a while, he texts back a very lengthy message. It startles me from my thoughts and makes my heart pound again.
"I hope it's ok of me to ask this, but I had a thought. It seems that both of us have been taking this quarantine so seriously that a break could be beneficial for us both. What I mean to say is, it wouldn't be a terrible idea if the two of us were to meet up in person to quell the loneliness, so to speak, would it?"
I'm in shock. He pretty much just asked me out on a date. I feel a little dizzy for a second. I calm myself down, concentrating on my reply.
"No, I don't think that would be a bad idea at all. But, where would we go?"
Despite still not feeling well, I'm a bundle of nerves and excitement.
“I think I'll leave that to you. Where do you usually like to go?" he asks.
I hurry to text back my answer.
"Well, I like simple things, where people can just spend time together and talk. How about grabbing a cup of coffee?" I ask.
He texts back quickly.
"That sounds divine, and I love coffee, but everything is closed down."
I stare at his message and my heart sinks in disappointment. I think for a few minutes before I text him "How about a walk in the park?"
I cringe a little; I hope that doesn't sound too boring or cliché.
He texts back with a smiling face.
"That sounds perfect. Shall we set a date and time?"
I smile at my phone. I can't help it; I'm so happy right now. I can't believe I have a date with Mr. Winston! I had been secretly hoping that this would happen, but I didn't think that it would.
"Whatever works for you."
I finish brushing my hair, then put the brush away. When I get back to the couch, there is another message from him:
"Great! I'll let you know later. Need to get some work done. I hope you have a great afternoon."
I smile, wanting to cheer out loud. I wish him a good afternoon before putting my phone away; I should do my best to concentrate on work, too. I grade the next few assignments that come in. There are no more texts from him.
In between grading papers, I start to fix myself up for my date. I pick out an outfit for it, laying it out on my bed carefully. I paint my nails, and I decide to give myself a facial and a little bit of a makeover while watching TV. Despite being quarantined, I feel like I've had a productive day.
There are new assignments to grade; I send them rapidly off to him.
He sends them back quickly, with a little email stating, "Keep up the great work. You're making my job a whole lot easier. Text you soon."
I laugh aloud. Even though we are apart, I find him to be sweet and charming. Obviously, I'm attracted to him, and I lust after his body, but I'm starting to see the type of person that he is, and that makes me want to be with him even more.
The lust I have is turning to actual feelings... I hope that doesn't make me sound crazy. I force myself to watch TV and put these thoughts out of my head. It's way too soon to be thinking about stuff like this.
I still feel horrible, but I am hungry. I get up to make me a snack, then sit back down to watch tv. I see that I have an email from a student. They have a question about one of the assignments. I quickly respond and help them. I'm proud of how fast I am able to work.
I'm also very glad that Chris takes notice of that. His compliments make me even more happy about my job. Working from home is fun, but his constant texts and communication have made it more enjoyable for me. I didn't think that was possible. But I guess stranger things have happened.
Later in the afternoon, he texts me back.
"Are you free this evening?"
My heart pounds excitedly.
"Yes. Whatever time is good for you," I reply.
His text back is just as fast.
"We can meet at the park around 5 or 6 pm, maybe walk for an hour two before it gets dark?" He even texts me the directions. Fortunately, it's not too far from where I live
"Sounds perfect to me! See you there."
I put my phone down, then run to my room in excitement. I’m in a hurry to get ready, but I want to make sure I look perfect. I try on my outfit and make sure I want to wear it.
After I'm ready, it’s 4:30 pm. I decide to head out; the park is still a few minutes’ walk from my house. Besides, I'm hoping that the fresh air will make me feel a little better.
Chapter 7
Chris
It's around 5 pm, and I'm standing at the entrance to the park. I feel excited and a little nervous, but I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm worried that she won't show up. I know I shouldn't be worried about that, though.
She texted me that she was on her way already. I can honestly admit that these past few days of working and talking with her have been fun; though nothing compares to seeing her in person, I'm glad that we still found out a way to communicate with each other. I don't know how I would have gotten through the weeks without some way of talking to her.
I look up from my thoughts and see h
er walking towards me. I can't keep the smile from my face. I wave to her and she waves back. She walks over and stands in front of me.
"Hello,” she says.
She sounds a little out of breath. I'm happy to see her, but I notice something is wrong with her face. It looks pale but flushed at the same time.
"Are you ok?" I ask, concerned.
"Oh, yes. I just hurried over here because I didn't want to be late, and I'm nervous and excited. I think I walked a little too fast, though," she says.
I don't think that's the real reason for her looking this way, but I decide to let the matter drop. What she said was cute and sweet; the thought of her being excited to see me makes me so happy.
She covers her mouth and coughs a little.
"Excuse me. I'm sorry, I have no idea where that came from," she says, embarrassed.
I chuckle a little and say, "Well, if you do have the virus, then we'll have to be quarantined together, since you exposed me to it."
She smiles and laughs at my joke, and I feel happy again. Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me if she did have the virus. I want to take care of her and keep her safe.
We turn and walk slowly into the park. She glances at me occasionally as we talk. I watch her looking around, taking in all the sights. There aren’t too many people out, and we do our best to keep our distance from the others that we do run into.
"So, grading the assignments is easy?" I ask her.
She nods her head, looking more at the ground than at me.
"Yes, much easier than I thought it would be. Thanks again for allowing me to take such a big responsibility in all of this,” she says with a smile.
I shrug my shoulders in response.
"It’s nothing. Like I said, you're extremely gifted in this line of work, and you're making my job easier." Again, she blushes at my compliments.
"I noticed that most students in your class are really bright. They seem to be getting exceptional scores on each assignment,” she says. "Is that because you're such a great teacher?"
I laugh, causing her to smile.
"Thank you for that compliment. I have noticed that as well. I have been thinking of recommending some of them for advanced classes, but that may have to wait awhile because of the closure," I say.
I'm a little saddened by that thought.
She clears her throat softly.
"Speaking of that, how long do you think that will last?" she asks quietly.
The sky grows a little darker as we walk.
"I honestly don't know. People have a history of being scared, so even a simple thing can cause a mass panic or frenzy," I say with a shrug.
She nods.
"I guess you're right. It’s uncertain. Everything about this world is right now,” she says, sounding a little sad.
I don't like this mood that we’re in, so I try to change the subject.
"Have you ever been here before?" I ask her.
She shakes her head.
"No. You would think I had because I live close by, but I'm more of an indoor person. I like to read, write, and watch TV,” she says with a little smile.
"Is that what you’ve been up to today?" I ask her.
She blushes and nods.
I smile. “It’s funny, because I was doing the same thing, too."
We both laugh and look around. The sun is really starting to go down now. We turn around and walk back to the park entrance. "Would you like me to walk you home?" I ask politely.
"Oh, no, that's ok. I just live a few blocks over,” she says. I don't take offense to this; I know she is just being considerate. As we walk, I notice that I can hear her breathing funny. I don't comment on it, though.
We get back to the entrance of the park. "Well, thank you for the lovely evening. It was good to get out and get some air and talk with you,” she says, looking at me.
I smile at her. "I feel the same way,” I say.
We both stand there awkwardly for a few minutes. When we look at each other, we can't control ourselves. We embrace, quickly but strongly. Our lips find each other. It's a quick, fierce kiss. We both pull away and look embarrassed.
"I’m so sorry that this keeps happening," Stacey says in shock. I'm not. I reach for her again, giving her a passionate French kiss. She pulls away from me, her face flush with embarrassment and excitement.
"Say, will you go out with me next week?" I ask breathlessly.
She agrees silently. I kiss her again, then gently let her go. I watch as she waves and walks away. Once she is out of sight, I turn and walk in the direction of my home. I couldn't be happier with how things turned out today.
Chapter 8
Stacey
It's the next day after my date with Mr. Winston. Last night, I rushed home after my date. I didn't even bother to glance at my work; I just drank some cold medicine and went straight to bed.
I slept in the clothes I had worn on our walk outside. When I wake up, I want to cry out in frustration. I feel so much worse than I did yesterday.
How could this be possible?
I think this is the worst I have ever felt.
I can't take these feelings.
I pull on a coat, despite the weather outside, deciding that I need to go to the hospital. Maybe they can give me some antibiotics or something else to clear this up. I hope it's nothing serious, but I have never felt this bad before.
I don't know how I am able to do it in my condition, but I manage to drive to the hospital. I park my car and walk as quickly as I can inside.
I give my name to the receptionist and sit down to fill out the insurance papers. It’s such a tedious process. After I turn them in to her, I wait for the doctor to call me.
I feel so miserable as I sit there, waiting. I look around the room, seeing that there is quite a crowd of people here. Some of them seem to be in way worse shape than me.
After what seems like an hour, they finally call me back. I'm led into a room, where the doctor checks my temperature. He looks at me, a little worried.
"Do you have any other symptoms?" he asks as he continues to examine me.
"Well…" I say, then I explain to him about my fatigue, and how I have the aches.
After checking me, he makes notes on his clipboard.
"Well, Stacey, I think we are going to have to run some tests to figure out exactly what is wrong here,” he says.
"Um, ok," I say.
I'm in no mood to protest or argue. I just want to feel better again.
He calls a nurse, who leads me out of the room. The doctor prepares a chart on me and hands it to her. I follow the nurse down the hall to a separate room. She seats me in a chair and exits quietly. A few moments later, another nurse walks in, carrying my chart. She's wearing a mask and gloves.
"This will be over really quick, and then we'll get you back out to the waiting room,” she says.
I look at her and nod. I don’t feel like talking. I extend my arm as she prepares her syringe and swabs. She wipes my arm before proceeding to draw a few vials of blood. I feel a little fainter than before. Once she is finished, she bandages my arm, then labels the vials. She calls in the other nurse, who escorts me out to the waiting room.
"The doctor will call you back once we have your results,” she says.
"Ok, I'll be here," I say, in a lame attempt to make a joke.
Instead of sitting once she leaves, I walk down the hall. I find a water fountain and take a big gulp. My throat feels very dry and scratchy. I'm trying so hard not to cough. I still feel faint, so I go to the bathroom and splash a little water on my face.
Afterwards, I walk to the vending machines. Maybe food is what I need, even though I'm not hungry. I settle on a pack of crackers. I take them back to my seat and nibble on them.
The crackers stick to my throat, making the scratchy feeling worse, but the salt feels good and calms my stomach. I stare off into space as I wait to talk to the doctor again. He finally calls me back. The look on his face has me wo
rried.
"So, what’s wrong with me, doctor?" I ask, a little breathless.
He looks at all his papers, then up at me.
"Things are not good,” he says.
He motions for me to sit in front of him, while he does the same. "We got your test results back. It appears that you have tested positive for COVID-19. I'm sorry,” he says.
I stare at him in shock. I'm in disbelief. There is no way this can be happening.
"The best thing for you to do is to go home and isolate until the symptoms have disappeared. If you have been in contact with anyone, you should probably let them know as well,” he says.
All I can do is nod. I'm not even paying attention to what he’s saying. I get into my car and drive home in a daze. As I get into my apartment, I lie on my couch and stare at the ceiling. I feel so sad and depressed. How did this happen? How did I get it?
I sit up suddenly as a thought occurs to me. Mr. Winston! I was in contact with him. I need to let him know that I could have infected him. I stare at my phone. I don't know if I have the heart to tell him that; I'm afraid that I might upset him, or that he won't want anything to do with me anymore.
I can't even bring myself to look at my phone. I mute the ringer and leave it on the charger. Instead, I spend my time sleeping and working. I keep grading the assignments and forwarding them to him.
He writes little notes with them when he sends them back to me, but I don't even bother to read them. After five straight days of this behavior, I finally look at all my text messages. They are from him, expressing his worry or concern, wondering if he did something wrong.
"Maybe another walk sometime?" one of his texts read.
I declined. "I'm weighed down with work at that moment."
“Have I offended you in some way?”
I couldn't bring myself to reply, so I just ignored that message.
I pick up the phone and open the text. I know I can’t put it off any longer. I really do care about Mr. Winston, and I miss him. More importantly, his health is at stake right now because of me. I summon all my strength and courage.
