Chapter 6: Migrane Day
The next morning Brooke’s first thought when she woke up was Ow! FUCK!
Her migraine had only gotten worse overnight. It roared through her skull, using the light coming through the cracks in her cheap dorm room blinds as a catalyst to drive needle sharp splinters into her head and eyes. She wished she had the money for blackout curtains, and the ability to hang them. There was no way she would be able to make it to classes today.
Brooke fumbled for her phone, blinking her eyes to make them focus. She tapped on the email button, double and triple tapping it impatiently when it took too long to load. She hastily typed out a brief message to her chemistry professor, explaining that she’d be missing class today and why. She sent the message then forwarded it to her figure drawing instructor, changing the name from Mr. Whitman to Ms. Hansen before hitting send. Both replied within 10 minutes, clearly already in their offices. Ms. Hansen said not to worry about missing class and that she hoped Brooke would feel better soon. Mr. Whitman reminded her that it was only the second week, and that she really couldn’t be missing labs and still expect to keep her grade up. Never mind that she could barely get out of bed and was fully registered with Student Disability Services. People like him made Brooke feel so invalidated and anxious. How was she supposed to do something that her body physically wouldn’t let her do? She sighed deeply and rolled onto her back, exhausted.
Brooke just wanted to sit still and do nothing, but she did the responsible thing and made herself take some migraine pills, drink some water, and eat some applesauce from the snack drawer of her desk.
Fed and hydrated, Brooke collapsed back into her bed, rolling onto her side and reaching for the tablet on her bedside table. She propped it up and quickly pressed play on a Netflix sitcom she’d already seen half a dozen times. She rolled back onto her other side and curled into a fetal position, listening to the show, hunkering down to wait out the pain, and fervently hoping for the sweet relief of sleep.
Brooke wasn’t sure if she actually managed to sleep at all that morning, but if she did it wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t very deep. When her phone went off, her eyes shot open. Her pulse immediately raced, thinking it must be a teacher again. Maybe her figure drawing instructor changed her mind, or the chemistry professor had more to tell her about all the makeup work she was going to have to do. But it wasn’t a professor at all.
Avery Black: Class is starting, where are you?
Avery Black: Are you okay?
Brooke let out the breath she’d been holding and her head throbbed in response. “Ow,” she said as she typed out an answer.
Brooke Johnson: I’m out of class today. I’m sick.
The text was marked read and dancing dots indicated that Avery started typing back almost immediately.
Avery Black: Are you okay??? Is there someone there with you, taking care of you?
She sounded panicked, and Brooke felt a need to reassure her. She let out a small sigh. She figured now was as good a time as any. She would have had to tell her eventually. She typed out the speech she’d given far too many times and pressed send.
Brooke Johnson: I’m fine. I have chronic migraine and Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, so I get frequent migraines and my blood doesn’t circulate properly when I’m standing. I’m having a high pain day so I can’t come to class. I’ve had these issues for years and they suck but I can deal with them, for the most part. No there’s no one here with me, but I’m fine I have food and water and pain meds. It’ll probably only last like 12 more hours. I’ll see you after class tomorrow
Brooke was glad she hadn’t had to tell Avery about her illnesses in person. Texting felt more detached, as though she was describing someone else’s body, not her own. Three dots appeared, Avery was typing back. Then they vanished, reappearing again several seconds later. Brooke sighed, locking her phone and setting it down on her nightstand. She was all too used to people not knowing what to say when she detailed her illnesses. Able-bodied people were almost always awkward about it.
No sooner had Brooke settled back into her comforter than her phone went off again.
Avery Black: I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! 12 more hours?!?! Are you sure you’re ok? I could come over
Brooke’s pulse started racing at the prospect of anyone but Alex seeing her in such a vulnerable state.
Brooke Johnson: No no. Really. I’m ok. Don’t come over. I’ll be fine.
Avery responded immediately.
Avery Black: Are you sure? I hate to think of you all alone and in pain >_< <3
Brooke Johnson: What else is new
Avery Black: Please let me come help you!
Brooke glanced at the time at the top of her phone screen. It was just past noon. Avery still had almost an hour of lab left.
Brooke Johnson: No, seriously
Brooke Johnson: At least one of us should be in class.
Brooke didn’t want Avery’s attendance to suffer for her sake. And as much as she wanted to see her, it was one thing to read a text saying the girl you’re dating has multiple chronic illnesses, and quite another to witness it firsthand, along with all the accompanying pain, sweat, nausea, fatigue, tears, boredom, and depression.
Avery Black: Okay.
Brooke shut off her phone and snuggled back down, trying her hardest to wait out the pain, barely paying attention to the sitcom still playing behind her back.
Sometime in the next couple of hours, Brooke’s pain spiked. It was all she could do to string a sentence together. Her rational brain had almost completely deserted her. She wished that Alex was home to comfort her and refill her water glass. She wanted to not be alone. Brooke groped blindly for her phone. Opening her chat with Alex, she sent another text asking where he was to join the 3 others she‘d sent over the past two days. He hadn’t read any of them.
Exiting to the chats list, Brooke opened the top thread. Without thinking about it too much, she typed out ‘come over please’ and hit send. She wanted Avery. She hurt and she wanted to be held, to be comforted, to be taken care of. Almost instantly Avery wrote back, 3 letters: ‘OMW’.
Some time passed before the door banged open loudly and Avery stood, a haphazard silhouette against the bright hallway lights. Brooke held up her hand against the light and noise. Avery, seeing, quickly stepped inside and shut the door softly behind herself.
“Sorry, sorry,” Avery whispered. As Brooke’s eyes adjusted she fully took in Avery’s appearance for the first time. She looked nothing like herself. She was dressed in baggy, ill-fitting workout clothes. Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and her curly hair was wild and frizzy, with small leaves and twigs tangled in it. It looked like she had run the whole way over. Maybe she had.
Avery crept carefully across the messy room, her movements cautious, as though she were approaching a wild animal. She walked around the side of Brooke’s bed that faced Alex’s bed, the desks, and the window on the far end of the room.
“Hi,” Brooke croaked, her voice scratchy. Avery had paused about 2 feet away from the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” she replied, her tone low and gentle, like she was talking to someone with extreme anxiety. Which technically she is, Brooke thought, and she chuckled to herself in her mind.
The sun was even higher in the sky now and so the light coming through the blinds was unbearable, even with Avery blocking part of it. Brooke groaned slightly and Avery jumped.
“What is it? Do you need help? What can I do?” Her voice was filled with worry, her calm tone abandoned. Brooke made a weak swiping gesture around the foot of her bed to the other side and Avery sprang to at once, following where she motioned, moving so fast Brooke couldn’t see her. Probably just her migraine fucking with her vision. Brooke rolled over, sighing in relief when she once more faced the darker side of the room.
Avery’s face was lit up by the window, as she was now opposite it, and she looked tortured. Her brows were twisted with concern; her hands strangling each other in front of her; the muscles of her shoulders bunched. “Migraines,” she said abruptly. It was a statement, not a question.
“Mhmm.”
“So your eyes are sensitive to light?” Avery spoke quickly, and in a higher pitch than usual. “That’s why you’re always wearing sunglasses?”
“Yeah, light is, the enemy today” Brooke said, her pain letting down the filter that would normally have made her soften the harsh truth.
“So why don’t you have better blinds?”
“This is a dorm room. Even if I could afford blackout curtains, we’re not allowed to take those blinds down.”
“Do you have any thumbtacks?” Avery’s eyes darted around the room.
“I think there are some in the top drawer of my desk,” Brooke replied, hazily, gesturing lazily over her shoulder. Rather than pick her way around the mess on the floor again, Avery startled Brooke by leaping clear over her bed, landing heavily in front of her desk and yanking open the drawer. “What are you doing?” Brooke pulled her blanket around her face and turned her head so she could look at Avery.
“Helping.” Avery snatched a dark red blanket off of the floor and Brooke heard her footsteps as she crossed to the window. Brooke watched as the bars of light on the opposite wall shrank and dimmed until the only light in the room was a faint red glow. She sighed in relief, stepping back to admire her handiwork, “Any better?”
Brooke let her blanket fall away and rolled over to look at Avery, smiling gently. Her brows were still drawn together in concern. Peering past her, Brooke saw that she had tacked the blanket up all around the window. She must have used every thumb tack Brooke had, spacing them 3 inches apart around the entire hem of the blanket.
“Much better,” Brooke said, relaxing fully for the first time all day.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“You could refill my water and get me an ice pack. There’re usually a few in the freezer in the kitchen. Down the hall to the right.” Avery was out the door with the empty glass before Brooke finished her sentence. She was back, closing the door behind her what felt to Brooke like less than a minute later.
“What else?” Avery asked, handing over a cold gel pack wrapped in paper towels and setting a full glass of water down on the nightstand.
“Just come here,” Brooke pulled aside her comforter and made as much room as she could on her twin sized bed. Avery eased herself down onto the mattress, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back against the headboard. Brooke snuggled into her warmth, resting her head on her shoulder.
Avery pulled the blanket back over them, tucking it in snugly.
“Are you warm enough?” Brooke chuckled.
“Are you not aware how much body heat you radiate? I’m fine.” She groaned in pain, reaching for the ice pack to put under her head. Avery’s thickly-muscled shoulder wasn’t the softest surface.
“So do you get them often? The migraines?” Avery asked not like she wanted to but like she had to.
“More than fifteen days a month,” Brooke answered robotically. “That’s what makes them chronic.” Avery tensed and Brooke sighed. “They’re not always this bad. And I’ve gotten pretty good at functioning through the more minor ones.” Brooke’s tone was equal parts exhausted and placating. “Hell, I had one the day we first met.”
“You did?” Avery’s voice was higher than usual and too loud for how close she was to Brooke’s ears.
Yeah, it just wasn’t this bad. It’s part of the reason I didn’t come back to class.” Avery was silent, but still tensed. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t know. I should have known.”
“How could you?” Avery didn’t answer. She relaxed somewhat but Brooke could tell she was still bothered by something. Avery couldn’t seem to settle down.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do to help you?” She had asked Brooke the same question every 5 minutes for the past half hour. Brooke rolled over to face her, groaning. Avery whined helplessly, her hands touching Brooke’s shoulders for the briefest moment, as if to help her, but then thinking better of it and drawing back quickly. Brooke breathed in a warm breath of Avery’s scent, and her head started to spin. Avery ran her fingers restlessly up and down Brooke’s arm. Brooke sighed, smiling slightly, content to stay there, in Avery’s arms, forever. But Avery couldn’t stop fidgeting.
“You really wanna know what you can do for me?” Brooke asked, with a courage born of the unconditional trust and surety she felt in Avery’s presence. She was hardly able to believe what she was about to say.
“Yes! Please!” Avery begged, propping herself swiftly up on her elbow.
Brooke crooked the index finger of her right hand, beckoning. When Avery was so close that Brooke could feel the heat radiating off of her skin, Brooke whispered so softly it was hardly audible, blushing deeply.
“Are you sure?” Avery asked. “I don’t want to make your pain worse.” Her brows drew together in worry.
“I told you, it’s the opposite,” Brooke reassured her. “As long as you don’t touch my face or head too much.” Avery leaned down and kissed her impossibly gently.
“I’m not going to break into pieces if you kiss me,” Brooke said, pulling Avery’s face against her own and kissing her firmly. Avery returned the kiss passionately, pulling back after a few seconds, flashing Brooke a sly grin, and leaning down to kiss her again. She held herself aloft, careful not to let any of her weight rest on any part of Brooke’s body. Her abs must be shredded, Brooke thought. She raised one hand, sliding it slowly up under Avery’s baggy tee shirt, and coming to rest on her abdomen. Her muscles were all flexed, rock solid and warm under Brooke’s fingers. She traced the lines between the muscles, taking her time, savoring every inch of heated skin.
Avery broke their lips apart and started kissing her way down Brooke’s jaw to the hollow under her ear, then down her neck, pausing at the spot where her sore, tensed trapezius muscle joined her shoulder, and sucking on it gently. Brooke moaned in pleasure, some of the tension leaving her pained muscles. Avery moved on just as quickly and Brooke whimpered almost inaudible. Avery kept kissing her way down, and Brooke sighed blissfully.
As she felt herself climax, breathing deeply to keep her muscles from tensing, Brooke’s pain eased, pushed to one side by the flood of a different kind of nerve signal. That trick had usually worked in the past when she was alone, but it seemed twenty times more potent with Avery involved. Brooke sighed in relief as Avery resurfaced from under the covers, hair full of static. Brooke giggled at the sight, brushing thee frizzy strands out of her face
“Any better?” Brooke nodded slightly and pulled her in for a kiss. She felt Avery finally relax, so she rolled onto her side, pulling one tattooed arm around herself.
“It makes sense, if you think about it. Dopamine, oxytocin, endorphins obviously all affect your nervous system.” Brooke chuckled softly.
“Of course you can rattle that off from memory.”
“I should hope so, considering I took bio classes all last year.”
Brooke snuggled closer to Avery, contented just to lay there soaking in her warmth and the safe feeling she got whenever Avery held her in her arms.
“What do your tattoos mean?” Brooke asked, tracing the dark black lines gently. “I like them.”
“It’s kind of hard to explain…” Avery replied. “But essentially they tell the story of my ancestors. According to legend, at least.”
“Tell me the story?” Brooke asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
“Not now. Soon, but not now.” Avery gradually lowered her head onto the pillow behind Brooke’s, wrapping her left arm even tighter around Brooke’s waist.
“I’m glad you let me come over,” she said. “I’m glad I was able to help, even in some small ways.”
“Mmmm I’m glad you came over, too,” Brooke replied drowsily. “I like you.”
“Will you be my girlfriend?” The question came out of nowhere. Brooke’s eyes shot open, her sleepiness shaken from her mind. She was suddenly very aware of her appearance, her hair a tangled mess on her head, teeth unbrushed, dressed in the same pajamas she’d been sleeping, migraining, and sweating in for well over 12 hours.
“You’re joking.” Brooke said flatly, scooting away self-consciously.
“No I’m not!” Avery said, her tone heated.
Brooke sighed, rolling over to face her. “You’re the MVP of the soccer team, you run a business, and, I mean, just look at you!” Brooke gesticulated as she spoke, finally voicing everything she’d been suppressing for the past week. “What could I possibly have to offer that would make you want me as your girlfriend?” Avery looked struck dumb, her eyes sad. It seemed that Brooke’s words had cut her deeply, and she felt terrible for it, but she was still glad she’d said them. Without the pain dissolving her filter she never would have.
“Everything,” Avery said simply.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything,” she repeated. “That’s what I like about you. Everything. You’re kind and earnest. You have the soul of an artist, and you somehow manage to shine, even though life’s shoved you into the dark. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
“I think you need your eyes checked,” Brooke said, plucking at one of the holes in her shirt. “If you think I look hot right now.” Avery leaned forward suddenly and kissed her with a passion that took Brooke’s breath away. She lost track of time, but eventually she had to come up for air, her pale cheeks flushed bright red.
“Extremely hot,” Avery said. “So?”
“So, what?”
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
Brooke fake considered for a moment, holding her chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Hmm, uhm, gonna go with, yes!” She responded, and Avery smiled widely.
Avery didn’t leave that night, and Brooke didn’t want her to.