A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I know this is VERY late, and I apologize. Thanks so much to my wonderful reviewers; you guys are awesome!
Disclaimer: National Treasure is too awesome for me to own. I just obsess over the DVDs and write profitless fanfiction.
CHAPTER THREE
Riley
When I woke up, I wished I hadn't.
For one thing, I had an absolutely splitting headache. It might even have rivaled the pain of a concussion, which, as I knew from experience, was very unpleasant. So much for the Advil.
Secondly, I couldn't breathe through my nose and my throat felt all tickly, which could only mean the onset of a cold. Like I wasn't miserable enough already.
And third, I remembered—in pristine detail—everything that happened last night. I considered rolling over and going back to sleep.
I could hear sounds coming from the kitchen: pans clattering around and that sort of thing. I sincerely hoped Abby wasn't trying to cook again, especially breakfast food. There's just something about looking at brown eggs and yellow hash browns that makes me queasy.
"He's still asleep?" That was Abby's voice, muffled by the walls but still distinguishable. I listened hard.
"Yeah. I'm worried about him, Abigail." Ben sounded stressed. And I felt really guilty.
"He'll be okay. I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't scared to death when you brought him back last night, but he'll get through this, Ben." Thank you, Abigail.
But Ben wasn't going to listen to that. "You didn't see him last night! I was watching him fall apart. I've never seen him react like that to anything." I winced. "Even in the ambulance—"
Suddenly realizing I didn't want to hear this conversation, I rolled over and covered my ears. That didn't do much for my headache, but at least I didn't have to listen to Ben worrying about me. Wasn't it bad enough that I was miserable?
And he'd let Abigail in on it. Now I was going to be mothered to death at the same time as I was being interrogated. Super. Really, what was the point of getting out of bed? Except for that Ben's next words were, "I'm just going to go check on him."
That did it. I wasn't going to give either of them the opportunity to even contemplate thinking about worrying about me. I got up as quickly as I could and reached over to the bedside table, fumbling for my glasses. My head throbbed with my heartbeat. Ow, ow, ow, ow . . .
Ben knocked softly on the door. "Hey, Riley?"
I'd gone to sleep in my tux, which was probably wrinkled beyond the help of dry-cleaning, but at least I didn't have to waste time getting dressed before pulling the door open. "Yeah?"
Ben looked surprised to see me up. "I thought you were still asleep. Sorry."
"It's okay."
And then there was this long, awkward moment, which rarely ever happened with Ben and me. I coughed a little, obeying the irritating tickle in the back of my throat, and then Ben hurriedly said, "You hungry? Abby made breakfast."
"Ugh. I was, until you said the last three words." I gave him a half-smile, and he laughed a little.
"I won't tell her you said that, but she'll probably—"
"I heard you, Riley," Abby called.
"Seriously, Ben. That woman could probably hear a dog whistle . . ." Ben smiled, and I sighed, relieved. He seemed to have relaxed a little now that I was up and making jokes.
"I know. And don't worry, it's just pancakes. They're good," he reassured me.
"Okay." We walked together down the hall, my head pulsing with pain. I sat at the end of the kitchen table.
"Morning, Riley," Abigail said, a little too cheerily. She had an assessing look in her eyes as she plopped a couple chocolate-chip pancakes down on my plate. She'd made my favorite breakfast food in the history of forever, and she was actually being nice. Whoa.
"Um, yeah. Thanks, Abby." She smiled widely, and then glanced at Ben. Something passed between them in that second, and I was sure it was nothing good.
"Feeling any better?" Ben asked.
Nope, actually I feel worse, if that's even possible. My head HURTS, I can feel a horrible cold coming on, and I am ruining a perfectly good day for you guys.
"Um," I said.
Ben's mouth tightened. I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut and rubbing my temples. Ow, ow, ow . . .
"I guess that's a no," Abby said. She sat down beside me, and, before I could stop her, she felt my forehead. I was a little kid again, getting ready to be force-fed cough medicine. "Riley, you have a fever."
And then Ben was all over it, too. "You should probably get back to bed. Do you want anything?"
"Ugh, no. I'm fine," I lied. "I don't want to go back to—" I broke off coughing, which didn't help my case at all.
"Come on, Riley," Ben said, his serious eyes locked with mine. "You look like you could use a few more hours of sleep."
"No! Just leave me alone, okay?! I'm fine." My voice was way louder than I intended, and it hurt my head. When was the last time I'd yelled at Ben like that? Maybe never.
Ben looked shocked, like I'd just hit him in the stomach. Abigail bit her lip.
I sighed, rubbing my head again. "I'm sorry. I'm just . . . I don't even know. Sorry. I didn't mean to yell like that."
"It's okay," Ben said. "You're sick. You had a rough night last night."
I nodded. "Sure, whatever." I stood up, pushing my chair in. I let Ben walk back down the hall with me, even though it wasn't even remotely necessary. "Look, I really am sorry," I said.
"I know," Ben answered, without looking at me.
Why did he have to be so perfectly understanding? It made it almost impossible to hide anything from him.
"It's just that I wish you guys wouldn't worry so much over me," I said truthfully. "I'm ruining a perfectly good day."
"Now who's got a guilt complex?" Ben asked, reminding me of an earlier conversation. "Seriously, Riley, don't be stupid. You're my best friend. I'm entitled to worry about you if I so choose."
"Yeah, but you don't have to walk me to my room and tuck me in," I pointed out. I coughed again, and the blood pounded painfully in my head.
"Sure I do. You wouldn't do it yourself."
"True."
"And just think: it could be worse. Abigail could be tucking you in." Ben smiled.
"Also true," I said, and the tension between us eased.
"I heard that!" Abby called.
Ben and I just exchanged a glance.
A/N: Hmm. No cliffie. Not to worry: the story (and cliffhangers) pick up soon. Please review and tell me what you think!