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Although she felt sick as hell, a small smile touched Amy's lips as she pressed the End Call button on her cell phone to hang up. He cared... He still truly cared for her. And she realized that he'd gotten sick as well, after seeing her the prior night.
Adam had called to check up on her. He'd expressed the desire to see her later that night, but it was doubtful that it would happen because of both of them being so sick. Nonetheless, the redhead thought she might actually make the effort to meet up with him somewhere. After all, she'd been sick the previous night when she'd gone to him. If it had been anyone else, she would have turned them down... But not Adam - never Adam.
She laid back down on the bed, stretching out a bit. Her throat was really red and raw, her nose still stuffy and running alternately. Suddenly, thoughts of John entered her mind, and she wondered where he was and what he could be up to. Her mood was suddenly dampened as well, a feeling that was not lost on her.
She didn't want to see him. The truth was, he disgusted her. His behavior was incredibly immature, and the fact that he would rather spend his nights with his buddies than be with her really hit her hard, and in a very negative way. What the hell had she been doing these last six months? Had she really been living? It didn't feel as such. In fact, it felt as though she'd been living a lie and simply going through the motions.
Amy turned over onto her side, facing the nightstand, her gaze trained on her cell phone. She felt the urge to pick it up and call Adam back. She hoped he was okay, and, as silly as it seemed, felt guilty that he'd caught her bug and gotten sick as well.
She was seriously contemplating calling him back when a knock suddenly sounded on the door. Her heartbeat suddenly quickened. Could that be him right now? She bit her lip as she pushed back from the bed, padding over in her pajamas to the door to open it.
Her heart dropped at the sight of the person who was paying her a visit. It was only John.
"Yo, girl... How are you doing?" he asked, not even bothering to wait for her to invite him inside. He sauntered in on his own, making a beeline for the bed, upon which he sat on its edge. He smiled at her in spite of her obvious discomfort, holding his arms out to her.
Amy pressed her lips tightly together so that they became a thin line. Cena had a habit of acting as though nothing was wrong whenever she was angry with him. Well, it wasn't going to work this time. But damn it, he was now on her bed and she needed to get back into it. She glared at him, not hiding her annoyance, and went around to the other side to perch back on it.
"Why would *you* care?" she asked bitterly, pulling on the blanket. He was sitting on the end of it, so she was unable to cover herself back up. Naturally, John didn't seem to care.
"Aww, aren't you so cuuuute?" he said mockingly, causing the sick redhead's blood to boil. In a flash, he was laying on the bed beside her, his arms encircling her and drawing her against him. "Baby..." He began to ply kisses on her face, seeking her lips.
Amy squirmed, hating his actions. He *always* did this sort of thing! It drove her crazy and he knew it, yet he always did stuff like this. She didn't want anything to do with him at the moment, and what was more, thoughts of breaking up with him had crossed her mind on more than one occasion recently. She protested, adding verbal exclamations to it, and pushed at him. It didn't do much good due to his much greater strength.
"Let me go!" she yelled, her face reddened in her anger. Almost violently, she finally managed to yank out of his grip. She glared at him, managing to get up from the bed. "Leave me alone! You chose your stupid loser friends over me one too many times. So, why don't you just go to *them* now?"
John looked up at her as he pushed himself up off the mattress, his blue eyes hardening. He was growing annoyed himself, the redhead could clearly see that. At the same time, she didn't care. She was too angry and too sick to care.
"So, that's the way it works? Okay then," Cena said, getting up to his feet. "You're breaking up with me? Okay, fine... Have a nice life." He turned and started for the door.
Amy shook her head, her stomach clenching up. She absolutely *hated* when he got like this. He was a damn manipulative bastard who relished in using her feelings against her. Besides, it wasn't *her* fault she was angry with him. No... That honor was solely his *own*.
"You're really unbelievable!" she cried. He turned back to face her before he reached the door. "All you care about is *you*! Talk about selfish... I'm sick! But do you care? *No*." She crawled back into the bed, hoping he would just go away and leave her to fall back asleep alone.
"I just wanted to spend some free time with my girlfriend when I've finally got it, but you don't want that," he retorted. "Look, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye." Before she had a chance to respond, he let himself out, closing the door behind him.
The redhead somehow managed to stop herself from picking up a shoe on the floor beside the bed and hurl it at the door. Her
head was spinning, and it wasn't just because she was ill. She laid back, her gaze trained on the intricate pattern of the
ceiling. The tears came quickly, and she didn't make a single effort to stop them. And she knew that now, more than ever, she
needed to see or at least speak to Adam again tonight.