017 -- Loki's Birthday

The rest of that weekend was a blurry, miserable haze for me. I obviously had come down with something worse than a cold, because my body ached and I was never satisfied with its' temperature. I ended up blowing my nose more times than I can count, but somehow, there was also a new stock of tissues waiting in the dorm when I awoke. I spent most of this time shivering, and occasionally feeling well enough to read.

After two days, I woke again, very weak, and starving. I hadn't been able to leave for food during my illness, and had only rarely gotten out of bed for water. I decided it was time to get up and make myself better. My head felt cleared, at least. And my nose wasn't runny. And, I noticed with some happiness, I felt exactly the right temperature. Warm and snuggled under blankets.

Climbing out of the bunk, I wobbled into my desk and held onto it, breathing heavily, while I remembered how to stand properly, and instructed my legs to hold onto some strength. I was determined to make it up to the Cafe, since I didn't want to pass germs around the Great Hall, if I was still sick enough to. I tried to clear some of the fog from my mind as I dug through my trunk for a pair of comfortable sweatpants and another hooded sweatshirt. It seemed to be always cold out here. I tugged the new clothing on, and deposited the sick clothing in a heap by my desk. This stuff really needed to be washed, along with my bedsheets, but I wasn't sure how to do it. I wanted to rip the bedsheets off of my bunk then, but it was night time and I would be coming back to bed soon enough. So I cleared all the used tissues off of it, and threw them away, and tidied up as best I could, before deciding that the first thing I'd ask Ness when she was awake was where we washed laundry at. Or if there was a laundry day. Something like that.

I gathered up my journal and the loose sheets of paper that were supposed to become letters to my parents, and left the dorm.

The walk up through the castle wore me out big time. Several times on the way up to the fourth floor, I had to stop and sit against the wall, breathing deeply and forcing myself not to feel dizzy or faint, or sick. It was colder here in the corridors, and my feet were only in slippers, which weren't keeping them very warm. At least the Cafe had a hearth. I vowed to sit next to that no matter who was in there, and got back up to continue my journey.

After what seemed like an eternity of stone walls and moving staircases, I made my way back into the library. I smiled and sighed with relief when I walked in, enjoying the aroma of baking bread and the smell of coffee. I grabbed a spot by the fire, and sat down, spreading my journal and papers before me. I needed to clear my head and really think about what I would write. So much to tell my Mom and Dad--how could I ever choose the right words? I told myself there didn't need to be as much detail about my everyday life; surely that would come with this journal when it was full. But once again my mind was drawing blanks. I was also still very hungry, but now I was unsure of what my stomach could handle. I thought about Patrick and that specialty soup. It still sounded very, very good. But I had no way of finding him or getting ahold of him.

I gave up and walked to the counter to order myself a hot chocolate. As I waited, I noticed that Ally was here, talking to an older boy I didn't know, and I she and I smiled at each other. I didn't want to interrupt their conversation, so I took my chocolate back to my chosen seat by the fire and sat down, inhaling the sugary sweet smell from the steam. It made my stomach rumble. Still, I wasn't sure I could handle any food just yet. I stared down at the empty sheets of paper and chewed on my pen.

It was a few minutes before I noticed that Loki had once again entered the cafe, but this time, he didn't take a seat next to me. When I looked up, I saw him sitting by himself, dejectedly staring down at a card in front of him. In one hand he was holding a deflated balloon. He looked angry and bitter. The balloon and morose attitude sparked my curiosity and made me forget my letters, and I stood, leaving my journal and bag behind and walked over to him, warming my hands on the hot chocolate.

"What's this?" I asked, leaning over his shoulder to read the card. It was from his parents, wishing him a happy birthday. More confused now, I frowned at the balloon, and attempted to cheer him up with a friendly nudge and a grin. "Your birthday? "

My heart was sinking as I realized his birthday must have been over the weekend, while I was sick. And I had missed it. No wonder he was so sad.

He jumped when I nudged him, and gave me a shaky laugh. "Geez, that woke me up," he said, before glancing back at his card. "My father got mad because I sent him a letter by owl. It arrived while he was at work, and he said it's ruining his reputation." He sighed heavily. "And this," he said, holding up the balloon, "is my wonderful birthday gift from my parents. Best birthday gift I've ever gotten." He clenched his fist around the scrap of red rubber and tried to control himself. Composing his face, he turned a worried eye on me and appraised my shabby dress. "But how are you doing? You had me worried."

We both jumped then, as a hand shot out and ruffled Loki's already mussy hair. "'Ello there lad, 'ow've you been?" Marius said with a laugh as he invited himself to our table. I grinned again. Marius had a way of brightening up any situation. He also sized up my state of clothing and shook his head. "You feeling better, lass?" he asked me.

I nodded. "I'm much better, both of you, thanks." I said, not wanting to go into any more detail about being sick. I was embarrassed still, and still mad that I had gotten sick during my best friend's birthday. It seemed unfair somehow.

Tired. Writer more later. --Abby