35. Sabotaged
“Don’t forget to text me,” Sara insisted for the twentieth time when she dropped me off after the track meet that Saturday. I waved in confirmation with a roll of my eyes and walked up the driveway.
I prepared myself for whatever waited for me inside as I ascended the steps to the deck. The dining room hummed with little voices. Carol’s voice carried through the kitchen, talking to George, in a calmer than usual tone.
“Emma!” I was greeted joyfully by Leyla who attacked my legs before I could bend down to embrace her.
“Put your things in your room,” Carol instructed passively. “We’re about to sit down and eat.”
The pleasantness in her voice caused me to pause. I glanced around, having a hard time believing that she was actually talking to me. I obeyed warily.
“How was your time with Sara?” she asked, glancing toward me when I sat in my usual seat where a plate of spaghetti with meatballs was already served at my setting.
“Fine,” I replied cautiously, still uncomfortable with the attention.
“That’s great,” she smiled. The expression looked odd on her face, having never truly seen her smile at me before.
I waited for something catastrophic to happen. But nothing did. Carol redirected the conversation back to George. They discussed a trip to the hardware store the next day to pick out flowers and shrubs for the front yard.
~~~~~
There were so many alarms going off in my head the second I walked through the door the previous night, but there was no way I could have known, or ever suspected her of being so cruel. Even when it became obvious that this was her doing, it was still difficult to understand what really happened.
“Well, I guess you won’t be in any condition to go to your boyfriend’s tonight, will you?” Carol jeered, poking her head in the bathroom the next morning. She closed the door behind her, leaving me in my misery.
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead and down my back, right before my stomach convulsed. My body quivered at the exertion that kept me up throughout the night. I collapsed on the floor, pleading for death, or at least sleep. How could I possibly have anything left in my stomach after being in here for an entire night?
“You should call them to let them know you won’t be able to make it,” Carol bellowed through the door. I glared in contempt at the closed door, wishing she’d fall off a cliff.
I pushed myself up to sit against the bathtub, covering my face with my shaking hands. I lifted myself from the floor and groaned when every muscle in my body screamed in agony. My stomach turned again, and I leaned over the toilet. Nothing happened, so I slowly straightened to walk to the phone in the kitchen.
The effort to move was unbearable. My head was unsteady on my shoulders as I dragged my body through the kitchen, cradling my stomach. When I reached the phone, I realized I didn’t have Evan’s number memorized. I groaned at the thought of having to get it from my room. Then I noticed a piece of paper on the counter that had “Mathews” scribbled in her writing. The phone number was written beneath it. How did she have their number?
I pressed the numbers on the keypad, anticipating the voice on the other end. The anxiety agitated my stomach; I clutched it with my free arm as it began to roll. The phone rang several times before it was picked up.
“Hello?” Evan answered on the other end.
“Evan,” I said in a voice I barely recognized.
“Emma?” Evan confirmed, concern resounding in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“I am so sick,” I rasped. “I have a stomach bug or something. I’m so sorry I won’t be able to come to dinner tonight.”
“Do you need me to come get you?” he offered in alarm, skeptical of my explanation.
“No, really,” I pleaded. “I just need to go to bed.” My stomach gurgled in warning, and I knew I couldn’t stay on the phone.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” he confirmed softly.
“Mmm,” I groaned in affirmation before hanging up the phone and rushing back to the bathroom.
There was nothing left in me, but my body was determined to purge any trace of whatever it was that had invaded it. The convulsions left me weak and trembling. By the time night came around, I was finally able to make it to my bed, where I curled up under the covers and wished I wouldn’t wake up again if this was how I was going to feel. But I woke up anyway.
I somehow managed to prepare for school the next morning. I knew that I wasn’t allowed to stay home alone, and the repercussions of having Carol or George miss a day of work were more than I could fathom. I showered and wrapped my wet hair in a low knot above my neck. I sipped a glass of water, hoping it would relieve the trembling, before making my way out the door.
I practically collapsed in Evan’s car, wanting so much to be under my covers again. I pulled my knees into me and buried my face in my arms. He didn’t say anything for a full minute after we pulled away from my house. But a minute was all it took for my stomach to register that I’d attempted to put something in it.
“Evan, pull over,” I whispered with an urgency that he recognized. When the car stopped, I forced myself out and staggered to the back just before my body rejected the fluid. I took a few cleansing breaths, willing the spasms in my stomach to stop while I supported myself on the back corner of his car. I slipped back into the car and put my face in my hands.
“You’re not going to school,” Evan determined. I could only groan. I barely noticed where we were going until the car pulled in his empty driveway.
“Evan, I can’t stay here,” I argued in a rasp. “I will get in so much trouble for missing school.”
“I’ll have my mom call in to excuse us.”
I gave in and opened the door, setting my feet on the ground and taking an uneven breath before forcing my legs to receive my weight. Evan hovered. I knew he wanted to help, but I shook my head to fend him off. I followed him through the house, allowing him to take off my shoes after I collapsed on his bed. My eyes were closed the second I was enveloped by the warmth of his blankets. His hand gently brushed against my clammy face right before I drifted into a comatose sleep.
My eyes fluttered open in the dark space. I glanced around without moving my head. I recognized the comforting scent and knew where I was. Then I remembered why I was there and I moaned. Did he really see me throw up?
I peeked next to me and discovered that I was alone in the room. I listened for the warning growls of my stomach, but my stomach was calm, and my head was clear. I pressed my dry tongue to the roof of my mouth, craving water. I pushed myself up to sit, grimacing at the soreness of my abused back and stomach muscles. At least the excruciating body aches had subsided.
I stiffly moved to the bathroom to investigate how horrible I looked. I wasn’t disappointed when I observed the ghostly reflection staring back at me - I was a disaster. Was there any way I could slip out and have Sara pick me up without Evan seeing me?
I let down my damp hair and combed my fingers through it, and I immediately put it back in the elastic, horrified by the results. I rinsed my face and mouth, attempting to be recognized as human again. I took a dab of toothpaste and put in on my finger, rubbing it on my teeth and tongue to conceal the aftermath of a day and a half of throwing up.
“Emma?” Evan called from the bedroom.
I peeked out through the bathroom doorway.
“How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously.
“Like someone scraped me off the road.” He smiled at my answer, the worry washing away. “Oh, and I look like it too.”
“No you don’t,” he assured, meeting me with open arms when I stepped out of the bathroom. I allowed him to wrap me in his warm embrace. He kissed the top of my head. “You look better than you did this morning. I heard that people could look green, but I’d never seen it before.”
I tried to push away with a huff, but he tightened his hold, letting out a quick laugh.
“You still look pale, though,” he observed. “Do you want to lie down?”
I nodded. He released me, and I slipped back under the blankets.
“I brought you some tea to try to get some fluids back into you, and it shouldn’t upset your stomach - or at least that’s what my mother told me.”
“Is she here?”
“No, but I had to tell her you were sick, so she would call the school for us. She’s called a couple of times to check on you and to give me way too much advice on how to take care of you. I tried to explain that you were still sleeping, but that didn’t stop her.”
Evan sat on the bed next to me, with his back against the headboard. He eased me over so my head rested on his lap, then he drew his fingers along my hairline. I closed my eyes, soothed by the tingling that traced his touch.
“What time is it?” I whispered.
“After two.”
“I can’t believe I slept that long.”
“Me either. I had to check a few times to make sure you were still breathing. You never moved.”
“I’m still breathing,” I assured him quietly, with a small smile.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He ran his hand down the back of my neck. The warm chills continued down my spine.
I sat up and searched for the tea on the table next to the bed. I took the smallest sip and let the warmth settle in my stomach before I felt it was safe to drink more.
“You still have your state ID from your trip with Sara, right?” Evan asked out of nowhere.
“Yes,” I answered slowly.
“Do you have access to your birth certificate and social security card?” he inquired further. I drew my eyebrows together and remained silent.
“I think you should try to get them – just in case,” he explained.
I knew he was serious, and that’s what made it so strange to hear. He really was prepared to escape with me.
“I can tell George I need them to apply to the camp this summer. You’re really serious about this?” I asked, studying his face.
“Yes, I am.” I dropped my eyes, struck with the understanding of what he’d be giving up too. Going into hiding would mean sacrificing his family and friends, not to mention dropping out of high school.
“Evan, it’s not going to come to that. I mean, really – where would we go?”
“Don’t worry,” he consoled with confidence. “I’ve given it a lot of thought. Besides, it wouldn’t be permanent.”
I decided not to question him further in fear of hearing any more of his plan. I refused to admit that it would ever get so bad that we’d be forced to run away. Evan believed in this plan because it was the only thing that he thought he could do to help me. It wasn’t realistic, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
I did get the documents from George. Evan was relieved. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t tell him that I was paralyzed with fear at the thought of leaving and that I wasn’t convinced I could do it. He just had to believe I could - at least until I was forced to decide.