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When my phone alarmgoes off, my mouth feels thick and dry, my head is spinning, and my stomach feels messy. I lean over the edge of my bunk. Ricci’s not there. I climb down and grab the ever-present water bottle she keeps on the floor and drink it all in one gulp. That eases the pinpricks in front of my eyes a little.
I check my phone for the time and see a message from Amber.
Call me. We need to talk.
I stare at the words, a vague feeling of unease creeping over my body. That…doesn’t sound like Amber usually sounds. She sounds…terse.
My finger hesitates over my phone; then I shake my head. I don’t have time to call her or I’ll be late, and if she’s mad at me for some reason, well, I don’t want to hear about that until later. I toss my phone in my backpack and grab my work clothes, throw a blanket over my still-damp sheet and towel, and head to the bathroom for a shower. I feel dizzy and heavy-headed under the hot spray, so I hold on to the tiled walls until it passes. I’m a little afraid I might throw up, which is a thing that’s happened a few times, and even though you thinkrunning water would make everything easier, it is not, in fact, easy to get puke down a drain.
In the mirror, my eyes are like red marshmallows and just like I thought, there’s a swollen purple mound under my chin.Fuck.I do my face and eyes really quick, making sure my eyeliner is heavy to distract from my gross face. I swab some concealer over the wound on my chin, but it still puffs out. I swallow some ibuprofen and wash it down with water cupped in my hand from the faucet.
My stomach rolls. I lean over the toilet, panicked. I’ve only thrown up a few times after drinking, and it wasn’t pleasant, and I had to spend the rest of the day in bed after telling my mom I had the stomach flu.
When I come out, Vanessa and Ricci are in the kitchen at the tiny table. Vanessa holds out a plate to me. “I made you a bagel. Your dad’s still asleep. You need a ride to work? Wait, how late did you stay up? You look wrecked. What happened to yourchin?”
I bristle, turning away from her so she can’t have a better look at my face. “Wow, what a super nice thing to say to me first thing in the morning. And I slipped down the bunk ladder last night and hit my chin. That’s what happens when I have to share a room with my sister and I have to climb up in the dark so I don’t wake her up, okay? Andno,I’m just gonna take the bus.”
With her mouth full, Ricci says, “Bella had a nightmare last night.” Bits of bagel flutter from her lips. Jelly’s smeared on her cheek.
I frown. “What are you talking about? I don’t rememberthat.”
Ricci swallows some bagel. “You were weird. You were, like, crying about Dylan. And letters. Like the big kind. Are you in trouble at school?” She wrinkles her nose at me.
“I wasn’t crying. Shutup,don’t lie.” What is she talking about? I don’t remember anything like that. Why does she make stuff up all the time? Big letters?
But still.
Something is poking at my brain. I try to concentrate. I did my laundry, I fell asleep, I woke up, I saw Dad and Hoyt, I went back up in my bunk and…why did Amber text me that weird message…
“It isn’t alie.You were crying.You’rethe liar!” Ricci shouts.
Vanessa says, “Ricci. Honey, that’s not nice.”
Then Vanessa turns to me. “You okay? You want to talk?”
“It’sfineand I was not crying. Ricci makes shit up all the time.”
“I didn’t!” Ricci yells.
“Girls,” Vanessa says.
“Just forget it,” I say. “I have to go. Don’t forget Ricci needs to do two pages of her homework packet, if you’re sticking around tonight, Vanessa.”
Ricci’s whining follows me out the door.
—
The bus is late, so by the time I get off at the stop closest to Patty’s I have to run really fast so I’m not even later for my shift. I’m sweating inside my hoodie by the time I get there. My stomach hurts, too. I should have taken that bagel Vanessa offered. Maybe I can get Deb to fix me some toast before things get busy.
I’m hanging my backpack on the rack by the flour shelves when I feel my phone buzz again.
Amber.I really need you to call me.
Can’t. At work. Double shift. Talk later.
I check my call history on my phone. It looks like I called her last night? But I don’t…remember it? I must have rolled over on my phone or something in bed. Three missed calls from her last night after that.
I squint at the phone and then shove it in my back pocket. That’sweird.My stomach flips nervously as I tie my apron around my waist.
