Nothing has changed; I feel sick, my whole body aches. I haul myself out of bed and head to the bathroom I share with Rain, my younger brother.
It’s early enough that he’s still asleep, thank Fate. I throw up everything I drank, flush twice, spray air freshener, then take another long, scalding shower. I brush my teeth until my gums sting.
Then I go back to my room.
Sleep drags me under again, like my pathetic body’s trying to escape the world too.
Dad’s knocking wakes me around seven thirty.
"Breakfast. You coming down?"
"Can you just leave it by the door? I’ll grab it in a minute."
A frustrated sigh. "Bay, what’s going on with you? Are you okay? Why can’t you just come out of your room?"
"I just don’t have the energy, Dad. I’m still weak. Please, just leave it by the door." My voice cracks, almost begging.
"Alright, son. I’m taking your brothers to school now, but Storm and Skye are staying home, they’ve caught the same bug you did, looks like it. What a start to the school year, huh?"
My gut twists. Great! The last thing I want is anyone home. But there’s nothing I can do.
A minute later, he sets the tray down. I’m grateful he doesn’t push, I don’t want him to see me, to see this… what’s left of me. I’m not who they knew anymore. I feel like a disgusting ghoul, a hollow shell pretending to be human.
With a violent move, I open the door, grab the tray, close it fast.
The food does not look appetizing, but still a few bites go down, just enough to keep me functioning. Tomorrow means school, and I’ll need strength for that.
The sound of Dad’s car fades as he drives off with Rain and Sun.
The house doesn’t go quiet though. Storm and Skye clearly aren’t as sick as they claimed. They’re running around, shouting, firing their stupid plastic guns for a solid hour.
For fuck’s sake. How much longer?!
My nerves are shot already, and the constant rat-tat-tat from the hallway is driving me insane.
By nine, I snap. I throw on some clothes and storm out of my room, face twisted like a brewing hurricane.
"What the fuck is going on here?!" I yell, full fury mode.
Skye lies on the floor, wrapped in a green blanket, I figure he’s trying to mimic some kind of soldier’s camouflage.
Storm crouches behind the couch in the living room, holding a rolled-up paper tube like a spyglass.
The toy guns are still rattling nonstop.
"What the hell is this? You skated out of school, you little smartasses, and now what? You’ve been running around for an hour, snot hanging down past your chins!"
Storm pops up with a frown.
He’s really tall for a ten-and-a-half-year-old. I’m five foot eleven, and he’s maybe an inch shorter than me, which isn’t unusual considering he’s a purple alpha.
"What’s your problem, Bay? Leave us alone. It’s like an extra day off, nothing happens at school in the first week anyway!"
"For fuck’s sake, you idiots. And lying to Dad?"
"We didn’t lie!" Skye pouts. "My throat does hurt!"
"Oh really? Funny, ‘cause I just heard you yelling, ‘NFHs gonna get you, filthy alien!’ at the top of your lungs! Maybe I misheard?"
