Page 57 of The Fake Script
His eyes narrow. “Are you tricking me again?”
I bark out a laugh. “I wish. I’m way too tired.”
We end up walking back, and when we arrive, the hotel is fully awake, with most of the crew at breakfast. But I don’t spot Emma.
I wander back to the room. It’s still dark when I enter, so I let her sleep a few minutes longer while I shower.
When I step out of the bathroom, she’s still sleeping, and I do my best not to wake her. She doesn’t need to be on set, and I guess we were up kind of late yesterday.
I open the door as silently as possible to go down to breakfast.
“Auston?” Emma’s voice cracks.
I stop at the threshold, turningback. “Hey. Sorry, I tried to be quiet. But you can keep sleeping.”
“Auston,” she says again, but this time she sounds . . . weird. I close the door and walk to the bed. “I don’t feel so well,” she mumbles.
One look at her, and I immediately see something is wrong. Her skin is pale, her bangs are sticking to her forehead, and her eyes are red and glassy. Then, she starts shivering.
“Oh my, Emma. What's wrong?” I ask, sitting on the bed.
“I’msocold.”
She shivers again, her body fully shaking now.
I pull off my shoes and get in bed with her, drawing her against me and running my hands along her arms to warm her up but she’s warm already, really warm. She leans against me, her pajamas damp. Worried, I touch her forehead. She’s burning up.
Crap. I grab my phone from my pocket, hitting one of my contacts. “Robyn,” I say when she picks up. “Please get a doctor to my room. Emma’s sick.”
Her voice is panicked. “Of course. Right away.”
I’m not really sure what to do next. I never get sick. So, I continue my attempts to warm her up. Water—maybe she should drink some water. Given how damp the bed is, she probably sweated a lot last night. Ilean back to grab the bottle on my nightstand.
“Here, Emma. Drink.”
She sips some of it, but then she shakes her head and collapses back against me. Shoot. Where is that doctor?
After what seems like an eternity, someone knocks on the door. “It’s Dr. Levant.”
“Come in,” I call, then murmur to Emma, “Doctor’s here.” I get out of bed, laying her back down carefully before rushing to meet him.
“Morning, Doctor.” I shake his hand. “Thank you for coming so soon.” I briefly greet Robyn, who is trailing right behind him. Once inside, she goes straight for the curtains to let more light into the room.
“Absolutely.” He gives me a nod. “Emma, is it?” he asks, turning to her.
She nods weakly. “Hi.”
He sets his briefcase on the floor. “Let me see.”
Over the next few minutes, he takes the temperature in her ears, peers in her mouth, listens to her heart and lungs with a stethoscope, and takes her blood pressure.
“Okay,” he says, folding the cuff and placing it back in his bag. “Nothing serious. It’s most likely a virus, possibly the flu or a bad cold. I’ll write you a prescription, and you’ll need to rest up for the next few days.”
I sigh in relief as he walks to the desk, picking up his prescription book and pen from his bag.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Just make sure she eats something, and keep her hydrated.” He signs the piece of paper and hands it to me.