Page 69

“Addy, are you okay? Cassie mentioned that you went home sick, but I put it in the back of my mind.”
I wave his concerns off as I sit next to them, trying not to breath in the onion-y smell of the burgers.
“I’m fine. Just a stupid stomach bug. I’ve thrown up several times today.”
“Probably ‘cause you’re pregnant,” Izzy jokes, chuckling to herself.
“Ha ha. Very funny. I’m on birth control, so I couldn’t possibly be pregnant.” I’m diligent about taking my pill every morning – well,almostevery single morning.
“You know what’s supposed to be really good for nausea?” Carter looks up from his phone.
“What?”
“Peppermint tea.”
I look over his shoulder and smile.
“Did you just google that for me?”
Carter shrugs, unbothered that I’ve discovered what he was looking at.
“Being sick sucks. I think I have peppermint tea in the cupboard. I’ll make you a cup.”
He goes into the kitchen and returns a few minutes later with a steaming cup of tea and sets it in front of me. The smell of the peppermint soothes my nerves. I delicately pick up the mug with both hands and take a sip. It’s not sweet, but the peppermint flavor is strong enough that it doesn’t bother me.
“So, Izzy, how was school?” I ask between sips. She pops a fry in her mouth and looks up from her phone.
“Good. In my theater class we’re working on making set pieces for the school play. It’s called Once Upon a Mattress, like a funny princess and the pea sort of thing. Way better than the stuff our old theater director used to force us to put on, like Hamlet.”
“Hey! Hamlet is a classic,” I say, shooting her a look. Izzy snorts in response.
“Yeah, if classic is a euphemism forboring. I way prefer this one.”
“Do you like doing the set for it?” Carter asks. She shrugs.
“It’s all right. It’s just my semester elective, so I’m not too worried about what goes on in class. It’s better than memorizing monologues and stuff.” Izzy’s brows knit together and she looks at me. “What did Principal O’Shaugnessy want? Beth said that she saw you two talking in the office.”
I bite my lip and smirk as if the question isn’t making me one bit anxious.
“What was Beth doing out of class?”
“She’s an office helper first period.”
“Oh, right. Um…” I trail off and frown. It feels like a lifetime ago instead of just this morning. Grimacing, I meet Izzy’s eyes and sigh. “He was letting me know that our new address is no longer in district. You have two weeks until we have to find you a new school.”
Izzy stares at me, and she’s so still that for just a moment I wonder if time has stopped completely. Her phone beeps, refuting that theory.
“Are you serious? That’s bullshit!”
“Language!” I chastise, but Izzy continues as if I didn’t even say anything.
“It’s not fair! It’s my senior year, and I barely have any of it left. Why do I have to change schools?”
“I know it sucks, but unless we find a way to move back into the district, you’ll unfortunately have to go to–”
“So we’ll move back. Or say we’ll move back. Let’s just pick an address and put it there.”
“And what? Miss all the mail? What happens when that person who lives there complains to the school that they’re getting mail for a student who doesn’t live there?”