Page 24 of For Your Own Good

Sick is one thing, bedridden is another. And at the worst time possible.

For the rest of the day, she feels nauseous every time she moves. She feels nauseous when she reads Courtney’s texts. She feels nauseous when she looks at her computer or the TV. All she can do is lie in bed, with the shades drawn, and take a tiny sip of water every hour or so. Late Friday night, she finally drifts off to sleep, cursing her body, the day, and her whole life.

She wakes up covered in sweat, the sheet wrapped around her legs and the blankets kicked off the bed. It’s light outside, so she made it through the night without dying. After remaining still for a few minutes, she reaches for her phone. Her stomach starts to roll when she sees twenty-four messages from Courtney.

As Sonia curls up into a tight ball, she realizes there is a silver lining to being so sick.Everything has a silver lining if you look hard enough.That’s what her mother used to say. Turns out she was right. Again.

Another day or two of this flu, and Sonia will be able to fit back into her red dress. Just in time for her ten-year anniversary at Belmont.

TEDDY HAS READZach’s paper three times. First, for the overall flow. Second, to check characters and story details. Third, for grammar.

It’s a damn good paper.

Too good, perhaps. Teddy wonders if Zach did read the book and write the paper—with a little legal help from his mother—or if he paid someone to do it.

Given the one-week deadline, Teddy would bet it’s the latter.

During the weekend, he spends a lot of time online, checking on Zach and what he’s saying.

Teddy does find a conversation about a movie night. It seems a few kids from his class are planning to watchMoby Dicktogether. Not surprising. Also not surprising that Zach isn’t on the list of students attending. If he wants to watchMoby Dick, he’ll do it in his own theater room.

Teddy looked at the aerial view of Zach’s house on Google: A place that big must have a theater room.

By Sunday night, Teddy is sure Zach paid someone to write the paper. His social media posts show someone who is too active, too available, for him to have read such a long book and written a paper over the course of the week. Teddy just can’t prove it.

If his wife were around, Teddy would discuss it with her. Allison is one of the most ethical people he has ever met. She would understand his disgust toward Zach.

Instead, he goes to the basement.

AT ONE TIME,Allison had planned to build the basement out into a rec room for the kids. But they never had kids.

Now it’s used for storage, with the exception of one corner. Teddy has set up a workstation that looks a bit like a laboratory. Beakers, test tubes, and even a Bunsen burner are lined up on the table. The shelves behind it hold coffee pods.

It’s been years since Teddy tried his first pod. The pods were terrible at first, and he much preferred his French press coffee.

But as the pods became more popular, he decided to give them another go. Better, but he still wasn’t convinced—not until he found Prime Bold. Now, he can’t imagine his day without it. After a while, he even threw out his French press.

His wife was rather upset about that.

Allison went right out and bought another, placing it on the kitchen counter next to his new one-cup machine. Every morning, Teddy listened to her French press gurgling away as he enjoyed his first coffee. She had to wait for hers. He never said a word, though. Her body, her choice, and all that.

On one morning, when he was in the house alone, a coffee pod malfunctioned and leaked. He wanted to figure out why. He pulled it apart, carefully looking at each part of the pod, and finally spotted an extra hole where the grounds were seeping out.

That’s when it first occurred to him that not only did coffee come out of the pod, but something could be putintoit as well.

So he tried it.

Using a syringe, he punctured a tiny hole just under the lip of the pod. The first time, he injected a bit of alcohol right into the filter of coffee. Just to see if it would work, and if he could taste it.

He did.

After that, the possibilities were endless.

All it took was a little observation. Who drank coffee in the break room? Who brought their own pods to work? Which flavors did each of them drink?

Again, he performed an experiment. He slipped a Gold Roast into his pocket, took it home, and injected it with half a Valium diluted with water. The tiny hole made by the syringe was invisible unless someone carefully inspected it before brewing.

Mindy did not. She drank up that horrible flavor of coffee, and for a few hours, she wasn’t quite as high-strung. She wasn’t happy necessarily, but she wasn’t huffing and puffing about anything.