Love Me When I'm Unlovable

Chapter 9: LeAnna

"That quiz was seriously crazy," Isabelle asks.

"I know, right," I say, rolling my eyes. "Mrs. Jackson really needs to cut back on the work load."

Isabelle nods. "You got that right."

"LeAnna!"

I turn around and see Rita running toward me, her face shining. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"I got an A!" Rita shows me her English research report, and the bright red A circled at the top. Her face is beaming. "Thank you."

"Of course," I say. "I'm so happy for you! We have a reason to celebrate tonight." Rita and I stayed up past midnight the night before, getting her report done. The A was a big deal for her.

"Yep!" Rita slips the papers into her backpack.
"So you're the mysterious Rita?" Isabelle asks.

Rita blinks. "Uh. I guess?"

Isabelle laughs a little. "I'm Isabelle. Nice to meet you."

"Cool," Rita brushes her off and turns back to me.
I can tell Isabelle was expecting more from her, but I'm too excited that Rita's talking to me to be worried about that.

Rita let me do her hair that night. We took Peppa for a walk too.

For dinner, in celebration of Rita's A, we went to Cheddar's.

"Oh my gosh," Rita takes a bite of her food and her dark eyes roll up into her head. "This is so good."

"Glad you like it," Mom says, smiling.

"I love it!" Rita's smile lights up the room. She bites her lip. "My stomach's kind of upset." She winces and doubles over, clutching her stomach.

"Here," I hand her my water. "Drink."

Rita shakes her head. Her face is scrunched up in pain, her teeth clenched together. Her fists are balled up so tight her knuckles are white. She breaks into a fit of coughing, each one wheezier than the last.

"Rita!" Mom was instantly at her side. Hives ran up and down her arms.  How had I not noticed that?
Mom had noticed it too. "Rita, are you allergic to anything?"

Rita nods through her coughing.

Dad is already searching the menu. "Here it is," he says. "Salmon on a bed of rice with peanut sauce?"

"Are you allergic to peanuts?" Mom asks.

Rita nods again. Her breaths sound like she's trying to suck air through a plugged straw. She clutched her stomach and threw up. All over me. I tried not to feel disgusted. Her eyes rolled back into her head.

Dad sweeps her up into his arms and I follow him
and Mom as they race outside. Mom slides into the driver's seat, quickly starting the car. Dad holds Rita in his arms, her body still. Dad holds his hand in front of Rita's mouth and nose. "She's not breathing," Dad says worriedly. He presses two fingers to her wrist. "Her pulse is thready."

The normally-five-minute- two minute ride to the hospital is dead silent.

Dad rushes her in, Mom following and explaining what happened. I run after them, trying to keep up.
A nurse rushes over, telling Dad to lay her on the stretcher. He calls for more nurses and yells for a breathing tube as he and another nurse pull her into another room.

Another nurse starts CPR as they run.

"Her blood pressure is dropping," the nurse says.

"She's going into shock!" another yells.