The New American Dream

Part Four: Amsterdam | Chapter Forty-Two

When I woke up the sun was starting to come up, I saw it through the half-closed curtains. Dan was gone, which even though it seemed sensible, made me kind of sad. However, my thoughts were more occupied by my stomach that was acting up again.

Get your shit together! I commanded as I got up and quickly took my medication, just to prevent the state of my stomach from getting any worse.

After that I gratefully fell asleep again for a little while until Cassie's alarm clock woke us up one last time.

_____

My stomach didn't get any worse, thank god. But it also didn't get any better. There was a constant fuzzy feeling in my stomach and I hated that. I did eat a little breakfast, but only because I knew that it would get much worse if I didn't eat anything at all. And like Mr Jackson had said, who knew when I would get the chance to eat something the next time.

I was really sad when we had to leave. With a knot in my throat I grabbed Dan's hand for support as we left the hotel for the last time and made our way to the airport.

"You know, it doesn't really help that I have to confess all my sins to my parents once we get home," I said, already trying to somewhat mentally prepare myself for the conversation ahead of me in several hours.

"I mean, you chose to get the tattoos," Dan said with a smile, rubbing little circles on my hand to calm me.

"Yeah, but I didn't choose to be bisexual, neither did I chose to fall in love with you."

"Fair enough," Dan admitted and leaned forwards to give me a quick peck on the lips.

During the flight I sat between Dan and Cassie. That did help with my travel sickness a little. I was mostly snuggled up to Dan, as well as that was possible with an armrest between you, and just feeling his heartbeat beneath my own skin and having some skin contact calmed me at least a tiny bit. I was grateful for anything really.

But the further home we got, the worse my stomach behaved.

_____

It was evening by the time we arrived. The group from New York had already come back this morning, so my sister was already home. I walked up to my parents with my heart beating up to my throat, my tattoos still concealed under the jacket I had put on for specifically this reason even though the one on my hand was perfectly visible. I hoped they would think it was just paint or eyeliner or something.

"Did you have a good flight?" my mom asked.

"Sure, yeah. My stomach's acting up though," I said with a weak smile.

My dad put the suitcase in the trunk. "Did your medications work then?"

"Mostly, yes," I said mechanically and got in the car. "How was Louisa's flight?"

"Good, she was only a bit exhausted," mom told me. "But I guess you must be even more exhausted, it would be the middle of the night in Amsterdam, right?"

"Yup."

I didn't say another word the entire ride home and my parents got suspicious.

"Louisa was babbling like an open book when she came back," mom said, trying to sound cheerful and to coax some more out of me.

I shrugged. "Guess I'm just tired, I slept a little during the flight but not much."

"Maybe you should go to bed then," mom suggested when we stepped into the house.

My heart was beating so fast, I thought I would get a heart attack any moment. "Actually, there is something I want to... I need to talk to you about. Multiple things really," I choked out.