The second week of school I wake up feeling completely sick. My stomach has an overwhelming sense of nausea and I’m dizzy, cold chills course through me and making my head spin.
For the past two days I've woken up feeling sick like this, but yesterday's pain pales in comparison with today's. I simply tell myself that it will go away soon and go downstairs for breakfast, even though getting anything down is going to be a tremendous struggle.
My mom puts a bowl of cereal in front of me and frowns.
“What’s up?” She asks.
“Nothing.” I grumble, but there’s a sudden lurch in my stomach and I know I’m about to throw up, so I quickly push myself out of my chair and run to the bathroom.
After I finish vomiting I walk back into the kitchen pretending like it’s a normal day. I really don’t want my mom to make me stay home, but I’m transparent as a sheet of glass because she looks at me and sighs loudly.
“Throw up again?” She asks.
I can’t lie to her. But I don’t want to tell the truth either. I settle for a “Maybe.”
She sees through that in an instant, too.
“Go to bed, I’ll bring you some broth in a minute.”
I would argue if I knew there was a possibility of me winning. There isn’t, though, so I leave the futile fight unsaid and trod up to my room defeated.
I pull out a stack of stupid start-of-school contracts that my mom has to sign and read. They all say the same things “Ask for help, do your homework, don’t cheat, blah, blah, blah…”.
Most of them are written in a way that is supposed intimidate students and please parents, but by now, I can pick out which parts the teachers really mean and which ones they don’t. After getting stacks of student/teacher contracts for eleven years, you learn to see past the ‘mean-teacher’ attitude.
The only one that I actually smile at is my AP French contract. Melanie has included a copy of the syllabus everyone else got, but scribbled slash marks all over it and stapled something different on the back.
It reads:
I, Kyra Rush, will spill to my French teacher about everything that has happened with my new significant other, Bryan. I will confess my undying love for him (because yes, it exists), and then, I will hook my unbelievably cool cousin Melanie up with any brothers he may have around her age.
There’s a space underneath the typed-out fake contract for me to sign, and below the signature line is a small handwritten note that reads:
If you don’t turn this in signed I’ll fail you.
Much love,
Melanie ♥
I re-read it until my mom comes in with my broth, thinking about how Melanie wouldn’t be compatible with Bryan’s older brothers. She’s too much; too enigmatic, too extreme. Bryan’s brothers are quieter and mellow. Of course, there’s always the saying that says opposites attract. I guess I could give it a shot.
As my mom walks in and puts the broth down on my nightstand I take a picture of the contract with my phone and send it to Bryan with a text saying ‘Home sick, talk to you later.’
Even though the picture has nothing to do with the message I had to send it to him because I know it’ll make him laugh.
“How are you feeling?” My mom asks, handing a spoon and napkin to me.
YOU ARE READING
Finishing Crazy
Teen FictionKyra and Bryan have known eachother their whole life, but it wasn't until recently that they've become really close. After spending every single morning biking mile after mile with eachother, Kyra confides in Bryan that she wants to race in the Iron...
