Still, the look Hil gave me had some hidden significance. “I’ll take that as a yes, you’ll come,” she said, then enveloped me in a hug and her musky perfume. It made my stomach flip and I splashed mocha all over the floor tiles.
I hugged her back with limp arms as the late bell rang.
“See you at lunch,” Hil commanded, dashing down the hallway.
I wanted to slump to the floor and rest my head on my knees. The tile looked inviting and cool; the hallway was silent in the moments after the late-bell scramble.
Fatigue and lethargy kept me planted for a minute before I dropped the cup in the trash and shuffled into French. I mumbled, “Je suis désolée,” to Madame Simone. She nodded and I stumbled clumsily against my desk.
“You okay?” Meagan leaned across the aisle to ask.
“Yeah.” But I didn’t feel okay. Hil’s perfume had made me queasy. I concentrated on the verbs Madame Simone wrote on the board, but they spun. I focused on the corner of my book, but it warped. My stomach lurched again, and so did I—out of my desk and out of the classroom.
“Mia? Are you in here?” Meagan’s concerned voice floated from the bathroom doorway. I’d emptied my stomach into the toilet and was gasping for breath.
My “here” was feeble. I closed my eyes and gathered the strength to unlock the stall door.
She stood above me, horrified—her face the same color as the off-white walls. “You need to go to the doctor.”
I leaned my head back against the stall, too tired to support it unassisted.
“I’ll go get Gyver—he’s in study hall.” She passed me a paper towel and used a shaking hand to brush my hair from my mouth.
“Can you get Ryan?” Gyver still wasn’t talking to me; I didn’t want him here if he was only doing it as a favor for her. “He’s in history—Mr. Yusella.”
An emotion passed over Meagan’s face, but I’d closed my eyes before I could identify it. “I’ll be right back. Hang in there.”
I might have dozed or blacked out. Ryan’s voice sounded far away, but when I opened my eyes he was kneeling beside me. “Hey, you. Tip your head back.”
I complied. My face felt sticky and my lips tasted salty as well as sour.
Ryan cradled my head with one hand as he pinched a paper towel to my bloody nose with the other. “Are you going to be sick again?”
I spoke around the paper towel. “I don’t think so.”
Meagan hovered, wetting another paper towel and holding it out. “You probably can’t get the blood out of your shirt without washing it, but this will help get it off your face.”
I reached for it, but my arm dropped limply in my lap. Ryan shifted awkwardly so he could cradle my head and pinch my nose with one hand and use the other to wipe off my face.
“I can go get the nurse,” Meagan offered, already fleeing for the door.
“No. Ryan, please just take me home,” I protested. “Dad’s there.”
Meagan paused and wrung her hands. “What can I do?”
“Tell the office,” Ryan said.
“And tell the girls I got sick. I don’t want to start anything with Hil when we just made up.” I tried to smile, but gagged instead.
Ryan shifted to hold my head over the toilet, but I protested, “I’m okay.”
“Okay’s not the word that comes to mind right now. Your nose stopped bleeding. Can you stand?” Ryan tossed the paper towels in the trash can attached to the stall.
“I’ll try.” He tightened his arms around my waist and helped me up. I sagged against him and struggled on legs that felt mushy.
“Can I do anything else?” asked Meagan. She was weaving her fingers into anxious knots.
“Could you go get my bag? I left it at my desk,” I asked.
“I’ll meet you in the foyer.” She looked at her watch. “You should get going, class ends in ten minutes. You don’t want to be in the hall when the bell rings.”
“Thanks.” Ryan offered a grim smile.
As Meagan reached for the bathroom door, it was opened from the outside, revealing a startled underclassman. She did a double-take then stepped out of the way to let us pass.
“Mia? You okay?”
I blinked at the girl; I knew her. A freshman on the squad. The good tumbler. Monica.
“Mia has the flu. Can you tell Hil or Ally she went home sick?” Ryan answered for me.
“That stinks! Feel better. Hopefully it’s one of those twenty-four-hour things so you’re better for tomorrow’s game.” She lowered her voice and added, “And the party! I can’t wait.”
I leaned against Ryan. He guided me forward and called “thanks” over his shoulder.
Meagan was in the front hall with my bag. “Just feel better, Mia. Please.”
Chapter 33
I fought Dad about the hospital, but only weakly. I hated ruining Mom’s special dinner, but it was obvious something was very wrong.
“Oh, Mia, my dear, feel free to stop by and visit if you miss us. There was no need for you to catch the flu,” Dr. Kevin said with a jovial pat on my shoulder.