Chapter 1
Grace
My mother found me in the bathroom. “Grace?” she said, and in a heartbeat she was at my side. “Gracie? What’s wrong?”
I slowly lifted my head from the toilet seat and, with violet sleep-deprived eyes, gave her my most lethargic of looks. I hadn’t looked this wiped since running in our town’s Spring Fling 10K the morning after junior prom. “Don’t feel well,” I mumbled. “Puked last night.”
“Oh, sweetheart…” She took a reluctant peek into the toilet, where a smoothie-like blend of dinner and dessert swirled in the bowl. If you tried hard enough, you could recognize a pulled pork sandwich, coleslaw, baked beans, and an ice cream sundae. Mint chocolate chip with hot fudge, whipped cream, and M&M’s.It had beendelicious.“Scott!” my mom called. “Scott!”
“I’m sorry,” I moaned when my father arrived, his blue-and-gray tie half knotted. “It happened in my room, too.”
My dad crouched down next to me. “Why didn’t you come get us?” he asked as I curled into a ball on our bath mat and started shivering. He put a warm hand on my back.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” I said. “You both have those big meetings today.”
There was a moment of silence. I imagined my parents using their couple superpower, communicating with only their eyes.Well, what do you think?my mom was probably asking.
I think we should get her to bed,I hoped my dad was answering.
“What’s going on?” another voice said, and the three of us turned to see James in the doorway. I’d heard him playing his keyboard earlier, our family’s morning alarm, but now he was dressed in jeans and a well-worn concert T-shirt from The National’s last tour and was shoveling Lucky Charms into his mouth.
“Your sister has a stomach bug,” our mom said. “She’s been throwing up all night.” She sighed. “James, you know there’s no food allowed upstairs.”
It was one of the new rules, to keep the house spotless for eventual showings.
My brother lowered his cereal bowl, and I swallowed—now really and truly nauseous. James cocked his head with interest. “All night, huh?” He slurped some more cereal. “Too bad I didn’t hear you.” His smirk sped up my pulse. “I could’ve held your hair back.”
“Let’s get you to your room, Gracie,” Dad said, helping me to my feet. “We’ll put a bucket by your bedside—”
“Wait, are you serious?” James cut in incredulously. “She gets to stay home?”
“Of course,” Mom told him, flushing the toilet for emphasis. “We don’t want her spewing all over Council Rock North.”
“I doubt there’s anything left in her stomach to spew,” James grumbled, then said, “Last month you made me go to school with afever.”
Yes,I thought.A fever brought on by a hair dryer.
(It hadn’t been his best performance.)
“Because you have too many absences, James!” Mom said. “Principal Unger called us.” She threw up her hands. “I don’t even know how to explain half of them!”
My school-skipping brother backed down and turned to me. “May I have the car keys, please?” he asked. “Since you’ll be bedridden today, dearest twin?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. While we were both seniors, James and I weren’t technically twins; we’d been born ten months apart. He was older and eternally irked that our shared Subaru was known as “Grace Barbour’s car” at school.
“No, wait, it’s okay,” I said, making a weak attempt at collecting myself. “I should go to school. James is right; there’s nothing left in my stomach. As long as I don’t eat…” I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed a hand to my abdomen, as if waiting for a cramp to pass. “I’ll be fine.”
My dad kept his arm firmly around my shoulders. “Are yousure?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’m student body president.” My voice floated up, up, and away—lightheaded, I was so lightheaded. “My people need me.”
“Jesus Christ,” James said. “Put the powermonger to bed.”
“The keys are in my backpack’s side pocket,” I told him before letting our parents escort me out of the bathroom and down the hall.
“Oh, wow,” my mom commented when she saw the crime scene in my room: brown sludge spurted across my beige rug. I might not have been successful, but it looked like I’d at leastattemptedto make a run for the toilet.
“Carpet cleaner,” my dad said as I climbed into bed. He pulled up my covers, tucking me in like when I was little. “Relax, Kim. We’ll get the carpet cleaner and it’ll be good asnew.”
