Keeping Fantasia: The Third Book of the Fantasia Series

Chapter 76: Shadow of a Doubt

Chapter 76: Shadow of a Doubt

Wendy tossed and turned for hours before jolting awake. Peter pretended to be asleep as she slammed against the headboard, flinging away covers as if hands were trying to grab her. 

When the covers were strewn, she stumbled from the bed and ran to the bathroom, one hand on her temple and the other covering her mouth as she doubled over and –

Peter grimaced as Wendy vomited. He pricked an ear, listening for the splatter. He heard water. It sounded like she had made it to the toilet. It also sounded like she was retching up all her innards. Intermittently she coughed between heaves, choking on vomit.

Peter rose. He knew Wendy didn't want him in there. He knew she would rather die than have him see her in such an unladylike condition. Heck, Wendy would probably use that very word.

Well then, if that was the case...Peter crouched beside Wendy. He had better spare her the effort. His poor girl was already having a rough night. Best to beat her to the 'unladylike' punch.

"Hey..." Peter picked hairs from Wendy's face. Several strands stuck to his fingers. Peter chose to believe it was from sweat. "So this is what Vanity Fair recommends for ladies this fall, huh? Explosive midnight puking?"

Wendy shuddered. Unable to support herself, she leaned against the porcelain seat.

"So disgusting."

"I'll say..." Shielding Wendy's head, Peter flushed the toilet. "I may never eat pizza again, which is a shame because that's the healthy part of my diet."

Wendy's shoulders moved, which meant she attempted a laugh but was too tired to follow through.

Peter eased her off the toilet.

"C'mere," he said, "Rest on me."

Wendy didn't protest. "I may not be done," she warned, head sinking into his lap.

"That's okay," Peter smoothed her hair with both hands. "I'll hold your hair back."

For some reason, that was the most loving gesture Peter could have made. Wendy never felt more protected in her life, even with Jim. Too exhausted to worry about the rancid smell in her hair, she curled into a ball and closed her eyes, absorbing the coolness of the bathroom floor.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Peter asked.

Wendy's eyes opened. Her memories tensed like gritting teeth.

"Yes." she whispered.

"Uh huh." Peter deliberated  his next words carefully. Wendy was death-gripping his knee, a sure sign that she didn't want to talk. 

Peter decided to be tactful and (oddly enough) kind.

"You know Wendy," he said, "We probably would have done this in college."

Wendy frowned. That was an abrupt change of subject. "Pardon?"

"College." Peter rubbed her shoulder. "If we had lived normal lives, we all would have gone to college after high school. Ariel would have gone on a daddy scholarship. Jim would have gone because he's a nerd. You would have gone because you're perfect at everything. And I would have gone to follow you."

"Although," Peter admitted, "I wouldn't have studied much."

Wendy lifted a brow. "Much?"

"Haha!" Peter revised. "Okay, at all. But I would have thrown bomber frat parties! Ariel would have dragged you to one, but some asshole mermaid would have spiked your drink. Jim would have beat the crap out of her, while I..."