“Can I eat your brownie?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
When they walked home from school, the pain in her stomach got worse.
“Maybe you should go to the doctor. Do you wanna stop at the hardware store and tell your dad?”
“No. I just wanna go home. I have to finish my social studies project and make dinner.” The crumb cake also had to get baked, but after a year of following that recipe day in and day out, she could now bake the cake with her eyes closed and one hand behind her back.
He frowned at her. “You don’t look so good, Erin. Your skins all clammy and you’re pale.”
Even talking was difficult. Her mouth was overly wet and she worried she might throw up on the sidewalk. If anyone saw her puking on Main Street, they’d tell her dad and he’d get mad.
She swallowed back a mouthful of saliva. “I’m taking the shortcut. See ya tomorrow.”
Cutting through the back roads, she staggered toward her house. A sharp pain stabbed through her belly just as she walked in the door and she rushed to the toilet, falling to the floor and violently vomiting. She was in the bathroom on and off all evening, and when her father came home he was outraged that dinner wasn’t ready.
Erin cooked up a cut of beef and heated a can of corn, but couldn’t manage to eat a single bite.
“What’s wrong with you?”
She pushed the corn on her plate around with the tines of her fork. “I don’t feel good.”
“You’ve missed enough school this year.”
Her clothes clung to her glazed skin and she shivered. “May I be excused?”
He glared at her. “Get.”
She left the table and returned to the bathroom. All night, she tossed and turned with sharp cramps until she was so weak and sick she dared to wake her father where he slept on the chair in the den.
“What is it?”
“Daddy,” she held her stomach. “I think I need a doctor. I’m really sick.”
“Get a glass of water and get back to bed.”
As soon as she drank the water she threw it up. The next morning, she barely made it to school. When her social studies teacher asked for her project, she stood, prepared to make up an excuse, but as soon as she tried to speak, she collapsed and the world went black.
Several hours later, she awoke in a hospital bed with no appendix. Harrison was there. He told her their dad had come and gone.
The pain in her stomach had stopped, but her body was sore. The doctor said she could have died. He also asked about a bruise on her arm, his close attention filling her with worry that felt like worms swimming through her belly.
Such questions might upset her dad and make things worse at home. Ignoring the guilty sensation, she lied and said she must have bumped her arm on a desk when she fell at school.
She stayed in the hospital alone that night and slept more peacefully than she had in months. In the morning, the nurses gave her Jell-O.
When she returned home, Finnegan’s mom dropped off a container of homemade chicken noodle soup. Finn had made her a card with a crayon picture of them climbing a tree and a pressed daisy inside.
GET WELL SOON! LOVE, FINNEGAN
She smiled at the messy block letters and tucked the daisy carefully in her jewelry box the moment she returned home. Finnegan McCullough was one of the nicest boys she knew. If anyone would make a nice husband, he would. And for one tiny moment, she actually considered marrying her best friend.
Erin removed the crumb cake from the oven and the front door slammed.
“Fucking asshole!” Harrison stormed into the house and threw something heavy in the den.
Leaving the cake to cool, she rushed after him. “What happened?”
“What do you think happened? He’s fucking impossible and I’m done.” He plowed into his closet and yanked out an armful of clothes, throwing them onto his bed.
“What? What do you mean, done?”
“I mean I’m leaving. I’m out. I can’t live under this roof anymore.”
“You’re leaving?” True panic gripped her. “What about college?”
He laughed without humor. “What college?”
“Harrison, you’re going to college. You’ve played football for years, and always talked about one day playing for a college team.”
“Well, Luke McCullough got the scholarship, and I got the scraps. Dad said it’s my fault for not pushing myself harder and he’s not giving me a dime when he already gave me all the opportunities I needed.”
Her heart sank. Luke got the scholarship? She briefly imagined the happy celebration that would take place at Finn’s house that night and a pang of envy carved a hole in her belly.
Harrison slammed a drawer shut. “He’s a fucking junior! That scholarship was supposed to go to a senior!”
“C-calm down. You can still get into a good school—”