Carissa

I wake up at 4AM the next morning and I barely make it to the bathroom down the hallway before puking.

   Shit.

   I spend the next two hours in there, unable to move, besides tossing my head towards the toilet to be sick. I am scared and tired and feel empty, but I literally can't move off of the bathroom floor.

   My mom is standing in the doorway at 6AM, and when I look up at her, she looks like she feels really bad for me.  

    "I'm so sorry, what can I do?" she asks me, bending down to pat my back and pull back my hair.

   "Water," I manage to say.

   She nods quickly and then comes back a few minutes later with a bottle of water from the fridge. I am able to sit back and drink some, and I pray it stays down. I feel like absolute trash.

   A few minutes later, she helps me up and walks me back to my room, where I flop on my bed like a rag doll. I don't remember the last time I was this sick, but it was definitely when I was a kid.

   "Just puking?" she asks, then adds, "Maybe something you ate? I'll get a bucket just in case..."

   "I think I have a fever."

   She reaches down to check my forehead. "Ouch. Yes you're so hot. Okay. I'll get Advil and a bucket."

   Sometime after I take the Advil I sleep for a bit, but wake up throwing up again. I know my parents are gone to work, so I just stay in bed and try not to puke up all my insides.

   At some point in the day I realize I need to call my work and tell them I can't come in. But when I call, my boss says my mom already let her know.

   "Hope you feel better, Carissa. Don't worry about tomorrow."

   "Oh. Okay. Thanks," I answer, barely able to talk.

   It's a horrible stomach bug and it's not until Saturday morning that I realize must have got it from Jeremy. When my mom call and  tells his mom, she feels so bad that she drops off some homemade soup and a chocolate bar for me. I even cancel my Saturday video chat with Dana and Easton because I'm still in bed, not feeling great at all.

   On Sunday afternoon, I call Dana. I'm finally feeling a bit better after a hot shower, and I miss her. Strangely, I am also missing Jameson.

   "You doing better?" Dana asks, her face red and sweaty.

   "Yeah. What were you doing?" I ask, unsure if I want to know.

   She lets out a laugh. "Just got back from a run. It's still so hot here, for November."

   "You run now?" I ask, surprised.

   "I do."

   "Jeez I don't even know you anymore," I laugh.

   "Shut it, you know me."

   "Yeah, I do." I pause and it hits me then that I want to tell her about Jameson. I've known him for almost and month and I haven't been brave enough to tell my best friend about him. "So.. I've been keeping something from you."

   "What?" Dana asks, her eyes wide.

   "Um..."

   "Carissa, spit out!"

   "I met this guy," I finally admit.

   "You what?" She's completely shocked.

   "We have a class together. He transferred from Tampa a few weeks ago," I explain.

   "Oh my god. How long has this been going on?" she wants to know.

   "A few weeks... I mean... we just have lunch together, really."

   "Have you gone on a date?" It feels like she has so many questions.

   "A date? No. Its not like that. We're friends," I say, carefully.

  "Oh." She sounds disappointed. "Well, I'm glad you have a friend. Is he hot?"

   I can picture him in my mind suddenly. Yes, he's hot. He's tall and lean and a bit unconventional looking. He has a small mole on his cheek and a scar on his shoulder. I've looked at him so much it feels like I know him so well, but I don't, really.

   "Dana."

   "What? Tell me!"

   "He is. But I don't know if he's.. he hasn't really shown interest like that," I say, my heart pounding.

   "Ahh. Well, maybe it'll blossom?" Dana suggests.

   "Maybe." I lay back on my bed and sigh.

  "I'm glad you're feeling better, Riss," she adds. "I have to go meet Easton. Talk to you soon?"

  "Thanks," I finish. 

*

"Hey, where were you?" Jameson asks me, stepping into the area where I get off the bus, on Monday morning.

   It was a really rough weekend. I had a fever for three days and mostly stayed in bed, and was throwing up all of Friday. I hate that I missed that Friday of school, but I couldn't possibly go with how sick I was.

   "Hey, oh, I was really sick," I tell him, as we start walking in stride.

   He's never met me here before and this is really nice, but also strange. He's giving me a funny look as we keep walking towards the main building. Usually the first time I see him is in the class we have together.

   "Oh, no. That sucks. You're feeling better?" he asks, sticking close to my side.

   I smile. "Yeah, finally yesterday I was able to get out of bed and eat. The little guy I babysit was sick the day before I watched him, so I guess that's where I got it," I explain.

   "Man, that's rough." He keeps walking, even though I know his first class is the other direction. "I was thinking... you should give me your phone number."

   "I should?" I ask, surprised.

   We've known each other for about a month, but we've never seen each other outside of school. Until yesterday, I hadn't told anyone about him. I really like him and like hanging out with him at school, but I wasn't sure he was interested in anything else.

   "I mean, in case this happens again... I could check in," he goes on. "You know, make sure you're okay."

   "Were you worried about me?" I ask him, then smile.

   "I was, a bit," he admits, and looks sort of embarrassed. "It was weird that you weren't here on Friday."

   "Okay. Put your number in my phone and I'll text you?" I suggest, reaching for my phone from my pocket back.

   He nods and takes it from me. I watch as he punches in his number and then hands it back, smiling.

I don't think twice between typing HEY and pressing send, and his phone dings right away.

"Cool," he says, and then lets out a laugh. "I have to get going... see you at lunch?"

"See you at lunch," I repeat.

   It's not until later that day when I'm on my way home that I look at my phone. He put his in full name in my contact info. Jameson Stilton. Something feels weird and wrong right away, like a pounding in my chest that won't stop. And suddenly I know what I have to do. I just hope it doesn't ruin everything.

*

"Mom, can I ask you something?" I start, knowing it's not going to go over well.

   It's a couple hours later and she looks up from her work, at the table, and nods. "Of course."

   "I've been thinking about... the boys... in the accident. I was wondering if-"

 "Carissa, please." She stops me, begging. The look on her face is torture. "Why would you want to bring that up now?"

   This is what she always does. I rarely try to her talk about it, besides anything to do with my injuries. We don't talk about that night, or the boys that were in the car. The boys who died. But I need to know this.

   "I just... I want to know their names," I say anyway.

   She shakes her head, as if she can stop me from talking. "You know their names, Carissa."

   "Well, I know their first names. But what about-"

   "I have so much work to do right now, Carissa. Could we do this another time?" she asks suddenly. She's angry with me, I can tell.

   She means could we just not talk about this at all. So I don't answer and turn to leave the room.

   Upstairs, I open my laptop. I've avoided Googling the accident for years. I knew it would upset my parents. I knew it would bring back a million scary things, for me. But I know that Jameson's last name sounds familiar and I think I know why.

   Andy Stilton was one of the boys in the car. He was fifteen, and in the backseat with three other boys.

   Stilton.
   Jameson Stilton.

   Jameson's brother died in the accident.