58.)

Blossom went to get me breakfast from the fridge, but when I stood up to follow her I suddenly felt very lightheaded. I immediately fell back to the sofa and tried to catch my breath. Little stars appeared in the corners of my vision. Blossom looked back at me curiously, or maybe with worry, and I tried once again to get to my feet. This time I did okay, but it was a challenge to stay standing.

"Lightheadedness?"

Blossom asked, with a tinge of concern in her voice. She didn't know a whole lot about the human body, but she was a cheerleader for four years and that taught her how to spot things like when someone was dizzy, like say, if they hadn't eaten in a few days. A girl passing out at the top of the pyramid because she'd skipped eating to lose that 0.1lbs? That was bad news.

"I'm okay," I said. "I'm probably just hungry."

Turns out, I wasn't just hungry. I only finished half a pancake and a slice of toast before I had to push the plate away from me. The smell was making me nauseous, and I usually loved maple syrup. I took a long sip of water, but my mouth still felt dry.

"So what's going on, cupcake? You've barely eaten, you're pale as a ghost, and you look a bit hungover. Has this happened before? Cause this could be hypothermia; you went swimming in the cold after all."

"I'm fine," I said, waving my hand dismissively. But Blossom walked over to me and put her hand to my forehead all the same. I nearly slapped her away, but my arms felt heavy.

"You feel warm..." Blossom concluded. "Maybe you're sick."

"I don't get sick." Growing up, I was the opposite of clean. I went almost everywhere a kid could go, and I touched almost anything a kid could touch. I used to get sick a lot, but my immune system was quick to compensate. By the time I was eleven or twelve, I stopped getting sick altogether. I didn't even get Covid, though that didn't stop me from getting all my vaccines and boosters.

"Everyone gets sick," Blossom said, "and if you're not going to take your health seriously, I will. And if I have to march you down to the doctor's office, I sure as heck will - I'll carry you if I have to, and that's also something I can do."

Blossom puffed her cheeks out defiantly, trying to show how in charge of this situation she intended to be. But it was a lot of fuss and bluster; if Amy said no, she'd drop it.

"We have plans today," I said flatly, a little annoyed at this whole thing. The whole reason I went out into the water in the first place was so that I could have enough sleep to do her Academy diaper-wetting scene! I couldn't be sick.

"C'mon," I said. "Let's get dressed. We have to go to the store." I stood myself up, trying my best to look normal as I did it. I thought I did a pretty good job. I still had to get out of my slightly-damp pajamas anyway.

True to her intent, Blossom let the issue go.

We changed into some day clothes. Blossom dressed with far too much exposed skin for the middle of November, while I didn't have any showing but my hands and my face. I climbed into the passenger seat of Blossom's car and buckled in. She took us onto the highway, toward the supply store where we got the Megamaxes. I was scrolling through their website on my phone to figure out what we needed.

"I think I can afford a pack," I mumbled. I liked the pink ones a lot, but they were huge. I wondered if maybe a different brand or a different size would suit me better. I was paying a lot more attention to the size charts this time.

"Save your money and bake me a fancy cake or something; the least I can do for the author of my favorite book series is to buy diapers for her, come on."

Unspoken was the fact that Blossom was a privileged blonde girl whose father made a lot of money, and who had women in STEM scholarships up the butt.

A pack of diapers was like forty dollars. You could buy a cake at the store for fifteen. Maybe I could make three cakes… or one really good cake. Either way, it seemed like a fair enough trade. I didn't like taking money from people, but I understood the difference between equality and equity. Forty dollars to Blossom was probably about ten dollars to me, in terms of true value.

"If you're sure…"

"I'm always sure; I'm Blossom Brixley." With a charming smirk, Blossom winked and made a little kissy face with her lips. "And you're kind of my diaper fashion advisor, so you ought to get a kickback for that at least."

I knew she was rationalizing, but I wasn't about to stop her. Free diapers was too good to pass up, even for me.

I had some trouble concentrating on online shopping, but I finally settled on more Megamaxes. I hoped they would have Rearz or some other brand for me to try, but the only other one was Abena, and Abena didn't have that pristine white diaper look I wanted for the scene. It was either Megamaxes or I would have to go back to Attends.

"I think you should try smalls," I said tentatively. "And I'll get mediums?" I should have tried on one of her black ones before we left, but I wasn't thinking about it. Still, the mediums looked gigantic. They should fit... right?

Blossom nodded in agreement and thought about how alike this was to buying any other type of clothing. Different brands fit differently with the same size. Different cuts worked better. Different fabrics hung differently.

"One day, cupcake, I'm gonna build a whole-ass outfit around one of these diapers and you're going to find me irresistible."

"Like I don't already," I laughed. It was a joke, but Blossom raised an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes.

I tried looking up some reviews of other diapers. I sent a text to my friend and editor, who knew a whole lot more than I did. She was busy though. She was always busy.

Then, before I knew it, I was stripping out of my winter coat and resting my head against the seatbelt like a sling. My face felt hot and my eyes felt heavy. We weren't even halfway to the medical store when I fell asleep in Blossom's passenger seat.

There was a bit of internal conflict that the busty ex-cheerleader had as to whether or not to go for the diapers or to take Amy to the doctor's. But she rarely made decisions for others, and she supported individual agency. And she didn't know Amy's insurance situation or anything of the sort, so she wasn't sure if this was something she should get herself tangled up in, even with all her best intentions.

And so, the pragmatic Blossom won over the experimentally overly-compassionate Blossom. She drove the rest of the way to the medical store.

We were there a lot faster than I thought. I opened my eyes just as Blossom pulled into the parking lot. That was always so common: waking up right when you arrive somewhere. It probably had something to do with the speed of the car changing or something like that.

"You conked out," Blossom informed me.

"Mmm... weird..." I usually couldn't fall asleep in cars. My head was ringing and my brain felt like it was full up with cotton, like a stuffed animal or something.

"Wanna come in?" Blossom asked.

"Nah, I'll just have a panic attack or something. Megamaxes, white. Um... get a small and a medium, so I know we'll have something that fits you."

Blossom said something else, but I wasn't sure I heard it. Then I fell back asleep, and by the time I woke up again Blossom was popping open the trunk of her sedan.

"You're still pretty out of it, babes." Babes, not cupcake this time; maybe a sense of detachment, or concern, or something? But notable nonetheless. Blossom adjusted her seatbelt and then tucked one leg up under herself and turned sideways so she could look at Amy properly. She hadn't started the car yet. Clearly this was important.

"Do you have a fever?" Not that Blossom would know what to do with that information.

"I'm fine," I brushed off, swatting her hand away when she tried to check. I had to stay on task. When we got back to the beach house, I needed to figure out this scene we were planning. But every time I tried to organize it in my head, it fell apart like Legos made of gummy candy.

Blossom puffed out her cheeks in frustration and made herself take two big, deep, breaths, before she finally decided what to say.

"Listen, Amy; you're sick. And you can either let me take care of you, or you can keep pretending. But there's only going to be one first time that Blossom Brixley wets her diaper, and at this rate you're going to fall asleep right in the middle of it."

"I'm not sick," I said, ignoring most of what she said. So Blossom rummaged around in a plastic bag she brought with her into the driver's seat and pulled out a thermometer.

"Prove it," Blossom said.

I took one look at Blossom's steely gaze, the way her lips pursed together with intent... and then I looked at the oral thermometer in her hand. It was the kind you put under your tongue. So, with a sigh, I took it from her and pressed the button to turn it on.

I knew I wasn't feeling well, but I didn't expect the thermometer to come back with a 102.2. Blossom took it from my hand before my brain could register what that meant. Wait, was I actually sick?

"You're sick. And you were too little to know that, so that makes me in charge until you're better. No exceptions."

It was a firm tone; the one Blossom would use with some of her other friends and they were being idiots and needed to be told what to do.

Blossom was good at that.

"We have to do your scene thing," I said with a bit of desperation. I sat up in my chair and tried to shake the cotton out of my head. I already screwed enough things up today, and I couldn't screw this up too. "I'm fine, really. I just need some ibuprofen or something."

"We'll do the scene when you're recovered; the diapers aren't going anywhere and neither is my desire to wet them for you, babes. Right now I want to focus on getting you feeling better - and you're gonna have to help me out with that because it's not my usual wheelhouse. But it's also not up for debate."

I groaned and fell back in the seat. This whole thing was so irritating. I shouldn't have gone out in the water; it was just another mistake in the ongoing series of mistakes I called my life. I picked at my fingers until Blossom took one of my hands and put a little plastic tube in my palm. It had a ball inside it that I could move around by squeezing one side or the other. She must have gotten it in the store.

"Play with that until we get home," she said with a tone of condescension.

I don't know why, but that tone actually made me feel a little less angry.

Truthfully, Blossom had no idea what she was doing or what the right move was for any of this stuff, but she had spent several years having to dish out tough love to ditzy airhead cheer squad girls. All this was, by contrast, an opportunity for her to do so with more of an emphasis on the love than the tough. A little bit of well directed condescension and firm tone.

It seemed to be working.

Blossom didn't know what was happening inside her friend's head, but she couldn't imagine it was easy to handle for the poor girl, so she did her best to be patient with her.

"I hope you're being nice to my Amy up in that head of yours."

Her Amy. My mind was too foggy to deal with that one. I played with the dumb toy in my lap for a few minutes, but soon it was too warm to stay awake. I felt sweat bead on my forehead and I quickly drifted off again.

I don't know when, but I opened my eyes to a bottle of water in my hands. Blossom handed me two pills. They were familiar, stuff I took when I had a headache. I put them in my mouth, downed half the water bottle, and fell back asleep.

The next time I woke up, we were at Blossom's beach house. The world around me was blurry and I had to double check to make sure my glasses were still on my face. I felt wrecked. If I didn't know I was sick before, I sure did now.

"Maybe someone poisoned me," I muttered. Maybe the ocean poisoned me. Or Blossom. I'd get inside and my muscles would give out. I'd wet myself uncontrollably. She'd do that tsk tsk thing with her tongue. I'd argue that it was an accident. You know what happens with girls who have accidents, she would say. Back into diapers.

There was more to that little fantasy, but my head was spinning. By the time I made it through the threshold and into the heated beach house, I felt like collapsing on the sofa again. Blossom held me by the shoulder until I made it to the cushions. I sat down and wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

"This... sucks..." I said under my breath, trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing. We had a scene or something. I knew it was important, but I couldn't even imagine what it was about anymore.

"It sure does suck. If your fever creeps up any higher - even a little bit - the internet says I have to take you to the hospital. So I'm gonna check on that regularly."

She'd stopped several times on the way home: at a CVS, a grocery store, and a different grocery store because she didn't know how other brands of chicken soup tasted and they didn't have the one she wanted. Each stop had been quick, and Amy had slept through the majority of them, so maybe the bags that Blossom set down on the counter - stocked with soup and pedialyte, saltine crackers and other bland food options the internet said was good for sick people - would have come as a surprise if Amy had been lucid enough to notice.

She was nowhere close to that degree of lucidity.

Blossom took my temperature again. 101.0. That was a huge improvement, but when I tried to argue, Blossom said it was probably the fever reducers I took earlier. I whined and fell sideways on the couch; the cushions were dry now.

"You really should try to rest," Blossom sighed, plating out some crackers to leave on the coffee table.

"You're going through too much trouble," I pouted, trying to keep my eyes open. It felt like my whole body was sleepy, not just my brain. If I could feel like this every night, I probably wouldn't have insomnia.

"That sounds like it's my business and not yours, doesn't it, cupcake?"

A rhetorical to which she neither expected nor allowed a rebuttal. Her bedside manner was a little spikey, but she did her best to keep it reeled in; this wasn't some idiot cheerleader who didn't learn her place and sprained an ankle, after all - this was someone she cared pretty deeply about.

"I'm going to put Bluey on the TV, and you're going to rest."

"I won't sleep if something's on the TV," I told her.

"I said rest," Blossom reiterated. "You don't have to sleep."

I think it was because of those words - "you don't have to sleep" - that I fell asleep before the end of the first episode.