Page 15

Chapter fourteen

Daphne

October 29

“This is way too much food, Mom,” I say, staring at the table spread for at least twenty people. Mom always goes all out for our birthday, but this year, she’s overcompensating because Finn isn’t back until the spring, so Mom, Dad, and Liv are the only ones celebrating with me this year. Which is weird because, technically, it’s also Finn’s birthday, or was since he’s in a different time zone.

“Seriously looking forward to that food coma, Mrs. J. I’ll get you to make my birthday spread too,” Liv praises.

“Thanks, sweetie.” Mom smiles. “It’s good to have people here to spoil with my cooking.”

That’s an indirect jab at me because this is the first time I’ve been home since starting at CLU this year. Sure, it’s only been eight weeks, but I haven’t made it to a single one of Dad’s games. He knows, of course. I can see it in the way his texts always start with ‘You’d love the energy at the stadium’ or ‘Wildcats look good this season.’ He’d never call me out, but I can feel his disappointment in every polite nudge.

And…yeah, maybe I am putting too much pressure on myself. Finn keeps reminding me and sending me motivational pics of the sea with quotes, telling me to slow the fuck down. But in my defense, I’ve always been the busier twin, so why stop now?

“Don’t forget who peeled all those potatoes,” Dad chimes in, walking in from the living room with a sly grin and a wineglass in hand.

“Truly, the unsung hero of this meal,” Liv quips as she raises her glass in a mock toast to Dad.

“Damn right, those mashed potatoes wouldn’t exist without me.” Sitting down at the table, he presses a kiss to Mom’s head as he goes.

“They’re my fave, and I love you for making them, Dad,” I say, just as my stomach suddenly gurgles loudly, a warmth spreading uncomfortably through my middle.

Liv raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Jeez, Daph, are you really jonesing for those potatoes? Dive in already.”

I open my mouth to reply, but a sudden wave of nausea hits me like a truck, enough to make me dart to my feet. “Uh, excuse me a second,” I say, turning and rushing into the downstairs bathroom as a hot, unwelcome feeling explodes from my stomach. I pick up the pace, swinging the door open and slamming it shut.

As soon as I’m inside, my mouth waters and my body folds toward the toilet, and I heave, throwing up my breakfast from this morning. My stomach twists as another wave takes over, and I thank all the gods that I decided to wear a ponytail today.

As the feeling eases, I let out a shaky breath. My forehead’s clammy, and my knees feel weak. I reach for the edge of the sink to steady myself, the cool surface grounding me as I struggle to catch my breath.

“Daph?” Liv’s voice comes through the door. “You okay?”

I rinse my mouth quickly, trying to compose myself. “Yeah,” I croak, my voice scratchy. “Must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with me.” I think back to everything I’ve eaten in the last twenty-four hours, and there was that food truck that Liv and I stopped at yesterday before driving here. I had the chicken, and she had vegetarian.

Opening the door, I find Liv standing there, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Food truck,” we both say at the same time.

Groaning, I slump with my back against the wall and slide down until my butt hits the floor. “Of course it was the food truck,” I mutter, leaning my head back.

Liv plops down beside me with a huff, pulling her two dark braids forward and inspecting the ends of them. “I told you to go for the vegetarian.”

“I know,” I whine and, oh my god, why are my eyes prickling with tears.

Mom comes around the corner, her eyebrows knitted together. “Oh, sweetie, are you sick?” she says when she sees me slumped on the floor. She instantly kneels to touch my forehead, but I stop her.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I don’t think I can eat dinner,” I say, the words a little shakier than normal. “I’ll just go to my room and sleep it off.”

She waves me off as she stands. “It’s okay. Go lie down, sweetie. I’ll bring up some ginger ale and crackers soon.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I murmur, hauling myself to my feet with Liv’s help. My legs feel like jelly, but I manage to stay upright, even if I feel like a newborn foal. “Sorry I’ve messed up our plans.”

“You didn’t mess up anything,” Mom says firmly, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “Just rest, okay? That’s all I care about.”

As I shuffle toward the stairs, Liv trails behind me, her hand on my arm in case I keel over. Her grip tightens as I wobble on the first step. “Whoa, easy there. You good?”

“Yeah,” I say, though the room tilts slightly. “Just dizzy.”

We make it to my room, and I collapse onto the bed with a groan. Liv grabs a blanket from the foot of the bed and drapes it over me like some kind of overly sarcastic nurse. “There. Snug as a bug. Now don’t move.”

I crack a smile. “Thanks, Liv.”

She perches on the edge of the bed, scrolling on her phone. “Want me to put on something to watch? Maybe a movie? Or, ooh, one of those trashy reality shows you secretly love.”

“I’m not in the mood for trash,” I grumble, which isn’t like me. I live for watching people couple up in an exotic setting. But I don’t think I could appreciate the drama today. I close my eyes. “Just…stay, okay? In case I die from vomiting.”

Liv doesn’t hesitate. “Obviously. If you’re going down, I’m going down with you, Juliet.”

“You’re the best,” I mumble, half asleep.

“Happy birthday,” she says just as I drop off.

***

It’s been three days since I first threw up, and Mom has officially gone from slightly worried to pushy worried for me. I can’t keep anything down except water and the occasional cracker.

“Daphne, honey, I think we need to take you to see the doctor,” she pleads for the hundredth time.

Shaking my head, I sit up, my mouth feeling like cotton wool. “Mom, it’s just a stomach bug. I’ll be fine.”

Liv followed suit the next night, throwing up too. So much for the vegetarian option. She grumbles from the floor on the pullout bed Mom set up for her. Technically, she was meant to stay in Finn’s bed, but we wanted to be sick together. Friends who puke together, stay together and all that.

She sits up, brushing the few strands of dark hair that have fallen from her days’ old braids. “I actually feel better this morning. My body is tired, but I haven’t puked in, like, twenty-four hours, so that’s good.”

I nod. “Me too, maybe it’s passed.”

Mom’s eyes flick between Liv and me, her worry softening slightly at our reassurance, though she still looks like she’s expecting the worst. “I hope so, but I still think you should at least call the doctor. Three days of barely eating isn’t normal.”

I sigh, my shoulders slumping. She’s not wrong, but the idea of sitting in a doctor’s office right now feels like the most exhausting thing in the world. “If I feel bad again today, I’ll call. Promise.”

“You said that yesterday.” She crosses her arms. Her mom tone is fully activated, and I know I’m skating on thin ice.

Liv, sensing the tension, chimes in. “Mrs. J, I’ll keep an eye on her. If she looks even remotely like she’s going downhill, we’ll both agree to a doctor, okay?”

Mom hesitates, clearly torn between wanting to argue and trusting Liv to babysit me. Finally, she exhales and nods. “Alright. But if you get worse—”

“I’ll go,” I cut in. “I swear.”

Satisfied for now, Mom picks up the empty soup bowls from my nightstand and sighs. “I’ll bring up more broth later. For now, just rest. Both of you.”

Once she leaves the room, Liv collapses back onto her bed with a groan. “Your mom worries too much.”

I snort, lying back against my pillows. “You remember when Finn got mono in high school? She pretty much turned our house into a quarantine zone.”

“Oh shit, yeah, I remember. We all had to wash our hands in the outside tap and wore masks inside.”

“Don’t remind me,” I mutter, closing my eyes. My body aches in that post-sickness way, like a truck has run me over. Still, for the first time in days, I feel the faintest glimmer of normalcy returning. “You really feel better?” I ask, cracking an eye open at Liv.

Fiddling with the edge of her blanket, she nods. “Yeah. Tired, but not, like, actively dying anymore.”

“That’s good,” I murmur, relief washing over me. If Liv’s on the mend, maybe I really am too. “Me too.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment until Liv suddenly perks up. “So, once we’re both human again, what’s the first thing you’re eating?”

I don’t even hesitate, which in itself lets me know I’m feeling better. “Mac and cheese. The gooey, extra-cheesy kind.”

Liv grins. “Excellent choice. I’m going full carb overload. I’m talking, garlic bread, pasta, maybe a pizza, burgers. And pudding too. No shame.”

I laugh weakly, the sound scratchy but genuine. It feels good to talk about something normal, even if we’re not quite there yet. “Deal. We’ll carb binge as soon as we’re functional.”