“Yeah, it sounds like she’s trying to pass a hairball.”
“Oh, ew. She just did.”
“Well, that’s good,” Valeria says, as her front door opens. When she looks up, Brooke is walking in. A tiny worry flourishes in Valeria’s chest. “I have to go,” she says almost on instinct. “But let’s make plans to hang out soon.”
“Yeah, I should go, too. I need to clean this up. Have a good night.”
“You too,” Valeria says before quickly hanging up.
“Who were you talking to?” Brooke asks as she walks into the living room toward Valeria, an eyebrow raised.
Valeria debates telling the truth or lying. For a moment, lying tempts her, promising to avoid conflict, but if Brooke is ever going to accept Camila as Valeria’s friend, lying will only make things worse.
“Camila,” Valeria answers.
“Mmm,” Brooke says before leaning in to kiss her.
“How was dinner with your parents?” Valeria asks before Brooke can overthink her being on FaceTime with Camila.
“Good. They were sad you couldn’t make it, but they say hi. My mom is already planning the Christmas getaway.” Brooke shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips.
“She does plan the best Christmases,” Valeria says, thinking of the holidays she’s spent with Brooke’s family. Valeria’s mom always celebrates on December 24th, so for the past four years she’s had Christmas twice. Not that she’s complaining. It’s her favorite holiday.
The rest of their night is pretty uneventful. Brooke doesn’t bring up Camila again, and the tension in Valeria’schest slowly loosens its grip. They put on a movie they’ve both seen before, something familiar enough to half-watch, half-ignore. Brooke’s head ends up on Valeria’s shoulder, and they both fall asleep on the couch. Sometime later, groggy and tangled together, they make their way to Valeria’s bed.
The next morning, Valeria’s phone vibrating under her pillow wakes her up. She groans and fishes it out, blinking at the bright screen.
Camila.
Valeria instinctively takes in a sharp breath. Camila has never called her, and that fact immediately worries her. She slowly slides out from under Brooke’s arm, careful not to wake her, and sneaks out of the bedroom.
“Hello?” Valeria answers in a whisper.
“Miso is pooping blood,” Camila screams into the phone.
“ . . . What?”
“Miso ispooping blood,” Camila repeats, slower this time. “I woke up, and it was just—everywhere. I don’t know what to do.”
Valeria’s stomach drops. Immediately, her mind races through every possible scenario, trying to figure out what it could be and how to help.
“Okay, okay—Camila, breathe,” Valeria says, voice soft but stern, the same voice she uses at the clinic when a pet parent is on the brink of panicking. “What color is the blood?”
“Red, really bright red, almost jelly-like.”
“Is it a lot?”
“Kind of?”
“Describe it to me.”
“Some of it looks like it’s blood and hair, some of it is poop streaked red. That one looks fresher.”
“Alright,” Valeria says, trying to keep her voice steady. “That’s good.”
“Good?” Camila screams again.
“Yes, that means whatever’s going on is low in her GI tract. That’s better than something higher up, which would turn the blood black. For now, keep an eye on her and make sure she stays hydrated. If it hasn’t cleared by tonight, bring her in tomorrow morning. Did she get into anything overnight?”
