“Yeah, well, after losing her boyfriend, I figure she’s entitled.”
Macy’s eyes go huge. “She told you about that?”
“Yeah.” A sickening thought occurs to me. “Is it a secret?”
“No. It’s just… I’ve heard she doesn’t talk about Hudson.” Her voice is off when she says it, and suddenly she’s looking anywhere but at me. I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s uncomfortable and not because the thousand-year-old tapestry she’s currently looking at and has probably seen a million times is more interesting than our conversation. I just wish I knew why.
“That’s not that surprising, is it?” I answer. “And she didn’t really talk about him to me. Just told me that he died.”
“Yeah. Almost a year ago. It kind of rattled the school.” She’s still not looking at me, which is growing weirder by the second.
“Was he a student here?”
“He was, but he graduated the year before he died. Still, it really freaked a lot of us out.”
“I bet.” I want to ask what happened, but she’s so uncomfortable that it seems rude, so I let it go.
We walk in silence for a couple of minutes, giving the subject time to dissipate. Once it does, Macy bounces back to her normal self and asks, “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat anything at the party.”
I start to say yes—I haven’t eaten since the bowl of Frosted Flakes Macy poured me this morning from her stash—but the altitude sickness must be back, because the mention of food has my stomach rumbling, and not in a good way. “You know, I think I’m just going to go to bed. I’m not feeling so great.”
For the first time, Macy looks worried. “If you aren’t feeling better in the morning, I think we’d better stop by the nurse. You’ve been here more than twenty-four hours now. You should be starting to get used to the altitude.”
“When I googled it, it said twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If I’m not better after tomorrow’s classes, I’ll go. Okay?”
“If you’re not better after tomorrow’s classes, I’m pretty sure my dad will drag you there himself. He’s been frantic about you since you asked him to leave you in San Diego to finish up your quarter.”
Another awkward silence starts to descend, and honestly, I just can’t take it right now. So it’s my turn to change the subject when I say, “I can’t believe how tired I am. What time is it anyway?”
Macy laughs. “It’s eight o’clock, party animal.”
“I’ll party next week. After I finally get some sleep…and after this gross altitude sickness goes away.” I put a hand to my stomach as the nausea from earlier returns with a vengeance.
“I’m such a jerk.” Macy rolls her eyes at herself. “Planning a party on your first couple of days here was a bad move on my part. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re not a jerk. You were just trying to help me meet people.”
“I was trying to show off my fabulous older cousin—”
“I’m older by, like, a year.”
“Older is older, isn’t it?” She grins at me. “Anyway, I was trying to show you off and help you get acclimated. I didn’t think about the fact that you might need a day or two to just breathe.”
We make it to our room, and Macy unlocks the door with a flourish. Just in time, too, because my stomach revolts about two seconds after I walk in the door. I barely make it to the bathroom before I throw up a noxious combination of tea and Dr Pepper.
Looks like Alaska really is trying to kill me after all.
14
Knock,
Knock, Knocking
on Death’s Door
I spend the next fifteen minutes trying to throw up the inside of my stomach and hoping that if this godforsaken place is trying to kill me, it just gets it over with already.
When the nausea finally stops about half an hour later, I’m exhausted and the headache is back in full force.
“Should I get the nurse?” Macy asks, walking behind me, arms outstretched to catch me as I make my way to the bed. “I think I should get the nurse.”
I groan as I climb under my cool sheets. “Let’s give it a little while longer.”
“I don’t think—”
“Older-cousin prerogative.” I shoot her a grin I’m far from feeling and snuggle onto my pillow. “If I’m not better in the morning, we’ll call the nurse.”