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I’m breathing heavily by the time my body calms down, and I get up shakily as I flush the toilet and clean up. For some reason, there’s a small bottle of mouthwash, and I thank whoever put it there as I use it.

“What the fuck,” I whisper, wincing. That was one of the worst experiences I’ve had, and I’ve had some bad ones. Maybe I have a stomach virus? It’s definitely not anything I’ve eaten because Calvin has been doing his best to feed me. The man is meticulous about his food prep.

Opening the door, I sigh as I see Elijah leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What was that about?” he asks. “You were in there forever. I almost knocked on the door.”

“I was sketching and all of a sudden I got really nauseous. I hate throwing up, so this wasn’t intentional. Of all the issues I have, an eating disorder isn’t one of them,” I say quickly, worried he’ll get the wrong idea.

“Noor,” Elijah groans. “No. I didn’t think that at all. Look, this is my concern. Think back for me. What did I get for you the night I picked you up from your first hockey game?”

I stare at him, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. Leaning against the door frame, I try to clear the brain fog from my mind.

“Ahh…”

“The morning after pill,” he hisses, glancing down the hallway toward the main house.

“Oh. Ohhh,” I say, my eyes widening. “I didn’t take that, remember?”

“I know. Do you think you might be pregnant?” he asks. “Rachelle and Lili both were really sick at the beginning of their pregnancies. It’s why they took tests to see if they were pregnant. Do you need a test?”

“I can’t be pregnant,” I say. Thinking back to when I last had my period, I find I can’t remember when that was. It’s been over a month at least, I think…

Shaking my head, I try again. “When I went to the gynecologist, I peed in a cup. They’d tell me if I was pregnant, right?”

“They would,” Elijah mutters. “Rachelle gave them your number. She’s trying to gradually get your information in your name since you’re turning eighteen soon. This way, you have access to it, and you’re able to speak on your own behalf. Therefore, they’d call your phone if they found something in your urine sample. Have they called?”

I think back to the unknown number and purse my lips.

“There was a call a couple of weeks ago, but it was later in the evening. I didn’t think it was a real call, especially after getting my information hacked recently. I’m also just not used to getting phone calls,” I admit. “My case managers were in charge of all my appointments and follow ups.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” he says. “Did you check for a message?”

“I fell face first into my bed that day and didn’t check,” I say, biting my lip.

“You’ve had a lot of stress,” Elijah sighs. “All I’m saying is not to stick your head in the sand about this, Noor. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you through it. You could start your period tomorrow and this will end up being a moot point, but I need to say it, okay?”

Pressing my lips together as they tremble, I nod quickly.

“I should get ready for tonight,” I rasp.

“Are you sure you should?” he asks.

“There’s absolutely nothing in my body left to throw up,” I confess.

“You can’t be doing everything that’s expected of you as the school’s mascot on an empty stomach. How do you feel about a piece of toast?”

“I might be able to make that work,” I say, feeling the emotion slowly bleed out of me. I feel like I’m on an emotional rollercoaster lately, and it’s exhausting to pitch up and down it. “I'll start getting ready.”

“Okay,” he says.

I can feel his gaze on me as I walk down the hall toward my room. My skin is clammy with sweat after being sick, so I immediately strip out of my clothing once I’m inside of my room and the door is locked.

Crossing into the bathroom, I turn on the shower. I’m no longer covered in bruises, and outside of my hair, I finally look like myself again. Staring in the mirror, I sift my fingers through my short hair. Has it grown anymore?

It’s hard to tell, but what I can say is that I hate my bangs. I’m going to figure out how to keep them out of my face while I’m wearing Asmodeus’ head.

God, that’s a creepy thing to say.