Page 62 of Blade

Ana pushed on the door, and it swung open, revealing her friend on her knees, leaning over the toilet, hands holding on to either side as she puked again into the bowl.

Ana kneeled behind her and grabbed her shoulder as Jolene slid to one side, then slumped down with her knees to her chest. Her face was bright red. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Are you sick?” Ana asked, even as facts began to creep from the back of her mind to the front. Like the way Jolene had stopped coming to breakfast. Stopped making the morning sessions. How she went to bed early now, curled up in a little ball. Ana had thought she was lovesick, missing Hugo. But this wasn’t that.

“I know you’ve heard the bleacher bees talking,” Jolene said. “Everybody has.”

And that was also true. The bleacher bees had been buzzing about “Jolene having sex” and “does her mother know” and “maybe someone should tell Dawn” and “it’s none of our business” and “she needs to be on the pill,” and then, in a chorus, “she’s such a little slut.”

All the pieces suddenly formed a picture.

“Jo,” Ana began, afraid to say it out loud. “Are you ...”

Jolene nodded, then lurched back to her knees, grabbing the bowl. Vomiting this time with nothing but a dry heave.

Ana raced to the sink, pulled a wad of paper towels from the metal holder, ran them under the water.

“It’s so bad, Ana,” she said. “This can’t be happening.”

No—it can’t,Ana thought.It can’t!

Ana handed her the paper towels, then stroked the side of her face with one hand, and held her ponytail with the other.

“What can I do?” she asked. But it was a stupid question. Ana felt useless. Just like with Indy and Kayla.

“I need Hugo!” she said. “I know he’s back. He said he would be ... He booked his return flight before he even left, and why would he change it?”

Jolene sat back down and stared at Ana with eyes so weary they looked like they wanted to die.

“I need to know what the fuck is going on!” Jolene pleaded.

“I can’t leave you here,” Ana said. Not with eyes that wanted to be dead.

Jolene took a deep breath and calmed herself.

“Please—this is what I need.”

So Ana agreed and hurried out of the bathroom, slipped on her boots, and wiped her skates and shoved them into the locker, her heart racing in her chest.

How had she not seen this earlier? It had been going on for weeks, but she’d been so preoccupied with Indy and the bruise and her family back home.

Poor Jo!

Outside the locker room, Ana stopped a new girl from Miami walking toward her, the girl who looked like she belonged on a beach, long blond hair, tan skin, Barbie body. They’d decided to call her Florida because she was only here for the season, staying in the first floor wing with another short-term skater, so what would be the point of learning her name?

“Have you seen Ivan?” Ana asked.

Florida pointed toward the snack bar. “He was on his way out.”

“Thanks.” Ana started to walk away, but then turned around. “What about Hugo?”

Florida looked confused now. “Hugo? That dickwad from Spain?”

“Yes,” Ana answered, stepping closer. “Why?”

“He’s not coming back,” Florida said.

“What? How do you know that?”