feeling?”
“Better?” The word comes out like a question. “Not sure if I have the energy to see my parents.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll just go and get Brock. You stay here, okay?”
I think it takes less than a couple of minutes for him to rush back inside the car and say, “Fuck, that was… They…they were having sex in front of my dog.”
I open my eyes and laugh when I get a look at his horrified face.
“Told you to be careful,” I say laughing, but the laughter upsets my stomach and I barely have time to open the door and throw up the little I had left in my stomach.
“Nyxie,” I hear mom’s voice. “Are you okay? Octavio, bring something to clean her, a wet washcloth, and a slice of lemon.”
“Ziplining isn’t for the weak of…stomach? I bet it’s the adrenaline. I might be allergic to it,” I keep saying nonsense while Mom rubs my back.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispers.
“I’m fine,” I assure her, but really, I’m not. My stomach isn’t upset, it’s actually raging. I can’t even straighten up because I feel super lightheaded.
“You have an ulcer,” she states, she continues drawing circles on my back and then places a wet washcloth on my neck. “How many times do I have to tell you that not eating is going to make you sick.”
Mom and Dad are like a real life WebMD. With only a couple of symptoms, they are already diagnosing me with some obscure or incurable disease.
“Promise me that if you continue like this, you’ll go to the doctor on Monday,” she says, handing me a napkin and a lemon. “Suck on that after you wipe your mouth. It should help you. If not, we should give you a teaspoon of baking soda with ginger and honey.”
Great, home remedies for my ulcer.
“What happened?” Dad asks.
“She went ziplining with Eros and Ford’s brother,” Mom answers. “I think she has something in the stomach.”
“His name is Nate, and I can’t believe you two were having sex. You could’ve stopped when he rang the bell,” I argue.
“I didn’t think he’d be opening the door when I said it was unlocked,” Mom claims, and I shake my head. “Right now, let’s worry about your health. You work too much.”
“With the junk she eats, it can be stomach cancer,” Dad offers his wise knowledge.
“Please, don’t start diagnosing me. I swear I’ll go to the doctor on Monday, but stop throwing out names of the latest diseases you read about,” I beg them while slowly rising from my crouching position. “See, I’m fine. It’s just the movement while sliding or…maybe I have altitude sickness.”
“Now who is making up nonsense,” Dad says, shaking his head.
Mom stares at me, holds my face and sighs, “You’re pregnant.”
I laugh loudly and say, “When you show me your medical diploma, I’ll believe you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Go home, drink water, and eat slowly and in small portions.”
“I’m not pregnant, Mom,” I correct her.
“Ready to go?” Nate offers. “Thank you again for keeping an eye on Brock.”
“You should stay,” Mom insists. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Mom, I’m fine, and Nate needs to leave.”
“I promise to keep an eye on her,” Nate assures them. “Again, thank you for…”
“Anytime. Call us if she needs us,” Dad says as he helps me get inside the car. “Call me if you feel worse. I know you like to show us that you’re independent and strong, but let us take care of you.”
“Love you, Dad.”
“They are something,” Nate says, as we head to my house. “I can see Persy as their child, but you…”
“Why not me?” I wonder.
“Your sister has zero inhibitions and you are too reserved,” he explains and then snaps his fingers. “Which makes sense because you’ve lived secondhand embarrassment all your life.”
“Spot on,” I say.
“Do you mind if we go to Ford’s place instead of your house?” he asks.
“Why?”
“Because he has groceries and you don’t. I’d rather cook for you,” he offers. “If it’s a bug, hopefully, it’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
I nod in agreement. I’d be lying if I say I want to go home and be alone. I’ll take Nate over my parents and my empty house.
“Thank you,” I say and close my eyes. “I should be better in a few hours. It was the ziplining or maybe a bug.” Anything but stomach cancer or…a baby.
Eleven
Nyx
Nate drives us to Ford’s house. When we arrive, I regret not asking him to take me home where I could shower and change clothes.