It was around eleven o'clock at night when I woke up to see four figures hovering over me. At first, my vision was a watery blur, and then I recognized a tall figure, my dad. Soon followed Taylor, and then Diana. I tried hard to see who the fourth person was, but all I could make out was an overweight, bald man with glasses and a beard. He had just stuck a piece of cold glass in my mouth and under my tongue.
"Mhmmhnmm," I moaned lightly, and rolled my eyes back into my head, closing them.
"Sweetie, wake up." my dad said, slightly shaking me.
I opened my eyes slowly. "Que?" I asked weakly, barely above a whisper.
"Can you talk?" said the man, taking out the contraption from my mouth.
Again, weakly I replied, "Asi, asi."
My Dad noticed I was speaking in Spanish. This was serious. I hadn't spoke in Spanish since my mother died.
The man, or the doctor, asked me more questions, and I continued to answer him in Spanish while my dad translated them into English for him.
"Well, she has a strong case of pneumonia. There's nothing we can do for now except give her plenty of rest, liquids, and comfort. I'd like you to call me in three to four days and tell me how she's doing. I've got a note to make antibiotics and you can pick them up tomorrow at the pharmacy." the doctor said.
The adults went out in the hallway to talk while Taylor stayed with me in my room.
"Noelle?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of my bed, taking my hands and holding them.
I opened my eyes tiredly. "Permita a mi duermo," I replied. "Por favor."
He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes as he watched me lay there, pale and practically dying.
"I love you." he whispered, kissing my forehead, which felt clammy against his warm lips.
I opened my eyes, "Te llamo, Taylor." I replied, and fell asleep immediately.
I had the pneumonia case for two weeks. Mrs. Lutter still gave me credit for the play because of my hard work and participation.
I slipped back in my work, and since I was gone the week of the mid-term exams, I had to stay after school an entire week to make them up.
I recovered faster than the doctors had expected me to. At first, my temperature, breathing, and blood sugar rate had dropped dangerously low. The doctors thought it might have been a formation of diabetes, but it got better as days went by.
Friends dropped by after school everyday. My room was beginning to smell like a garden due to all the flowers I received. I continued to speak in Spanish.
"Yo quiero tu floras." Shannon said.
"." I replied back, still weakly.
She hung her head to the side. "Dinero, dinero, dinero, oh! Money! No tengo dinero!" said with a big sloppy grin.
I laughed a little. "Boba chica, pero yo me gusta a ti." I repeated.
"What are you two saying to each other?" Taylor asked from the corner of my room.
"I have no idea." Shannon replied.
I turned to Taylor. "Ella no sabe nada." I said, pointing to Shannon.
"Hey!" she cried after a pause, translating what I said.
"Te llamo a Taylor muy mucho." I said, pointing to Taylor.
"Now wait, she has said that repeatedly to me. Do you know what that means?" he asked Shannon in a ticked voice.
"Aw. Noelle said she loves you very much. What she said, te llamo a Taylor muy mucho, means she loves you very much." Shannon said coolly.
Taylor's face melted now that he knew what I had been saying to him all along. He was so happy now that I was better.
We had grown so much closer since my sickness. We told each other everything. Embarrassing moments, confessions. I even told him some of my diary entries.
Some nights, I wouldn't be able to sleep, and neither would he. Se we'd both leave our back doors unlocked and one of us would go over to the other house, let ourselves in, and find one another and sleep together. Not for sexual reasons, just visiting each other out of loneliness.
I loved Taylor, and Taylor loved me. There was nothing that could, or would, seperate us. Our love was too strong, and we knew we would stay together for a long time. We would love each other, no matter where, no matter when, no matter how. We were in love.