SALLY

Today was my sick day. In all my sixteen years of life, I'd never gotten as much as a cold. Well, except for those few times I had to get vaccinated. Today also happened to be my sixteenth birthday and the first thing I'd noticed when I'd woken up this morning was my stuffy nose. Bummer!

I turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, drying myself as I walked to my closet. As I opened the closet, my alarm began blaring. My parents groan from down below brought a smile to my face.

"We're up already!" My mom said.

Chuckling, I hit the snooze button. I picked out a knee-length periwinkle dress that was adorned with daisies and slipped it on. I moved to the mirror hanging by the side of the closet and packed my wet hair, laying it down in braids. The dress looked a bit on the big side but it did well to hide my slightly bulging stomach and overly plump ass. My nose was slightly red, it was glaringly obvious on my dark skin. It looked like I had something stuck up in my nose and it hurt real bad. I sniffed.

I looked sick enough to stay home today. I sniffed again, shrugged it off and put on my converse. I picked up my backpack and walked out of my room, going down the stairs. I walked into the kitchen to find my mom by the stove making some omelet.

"Good morning, Mom." I kissed her on the cheek and she yawned.

"Good morning, Sweetie."

"Rough night?" I picked up a red apple from the fruit bowl on the dining table and bit into it. I dropped my backpack on the floor beside me, then sat down. I glanced at my dad who had half his body stuck in the fridge. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What are you doing, Dad?"

"Nothing, Sweetie. Just grabbing a jar of milk," he replied.

There was a jar of milk already on the table and judging by the pool of water at its base, he had brought it out a while ago. I frowned. That didn't seem weird at all, I thought sarcastically.

My mom chuckled and served me a plate of omelettes and bacon. I loved bacon.

"Not a rough night, but a bad morning," she replied, kissing my cheek. "I know I should be used to it by now but I still don't understand why you set your alarm when you always wake up before 6 am. You don't need it."

I picked up a piece of bacon, bit into it and grimaced. The taste was odd. However, I chose not to comment on it. Instead, I pushed the plate aside.

"I set the alarm to wake you up so you'd make me breakfast on time. I wouldn't want to break my stellar record of being punctual to school." I winked at her and she rolled her eyes at me, making me laugh.

"Overachiever," she whispered but I wasn't sure it was meant to be one. "Can you not do it anymore? Some of us love our beauty sleep."

I took another bite out of my apple and shrugged. "I make no promises." I wiggled my brows at her and she smiled.

Suddenly, my dad turned and voila, there was a cake in his hands. It was the same trick every year on my birthday. I wondered if he thought I didn't know he was hiding the cake.

"Happy birthday, my love." He placed the cake in front of me and kissed my cheek.

My mom smiled. "Happy birthday, baby." She bent to my level and gave me a half hug squishing my face in the process.

She gasped. "Oh, my word! What's wrong with you, Sally? Are you sick? You look sick."

I sniffed. "I'm fine, Mom. It's just a stuffy nose."

"Stuffy nose? Honey, I don't think you should go to school today."

I knew this would happen.

"I'm fine, Mom. You of all people know I've never fallen sick before. This is probably as a result of climate change or something."

"Climate change indeed. You look awful and that dress you have on doesn't help. And just look what you've done with your hair, you didn't even brush it." She moved behind me and picked up my braid, threading her fingers through it to loosen it. I groaned.

"Leave it, Mom. I like it like this. You're always fussing over my hair." I swatted her hands away and she yanked on my hair.

"Ow!" I whined.

"You have a beautiful long hair, yet you do it no justice. If I had your hair colour, everyone would be dying of jealousy." Once she finished loosening the braid, she spread the tendrils on my shoulders.

"Let your hair down. It looks better this way, it brings out your green eyes. Derek dear, could you please get me a brush from the room? I need to tame this wild mess your daughter calls hair."

I gave my dad eye signals, shaking my head at him not to answer her. He just chuckled and got up.

"You heard the lady." He shrugged and walked out of the kitchen.

"Ugh! When can I cut my cake?" I tried to distract her. Hopefully, she'd forget about my hair and I could leave before she remembered. But no such luck.

"You can cut it after I make your hair." I rolled my eyes and she gave me a tap on the head. My hair was curly and was hard to brush, my mom always had to straighten it before brushing but she wouldn't be doing that today.

"Your hair is like sunset fire, it glows when the sun hits it. I love it." She ran her fingers through it and I looked up at her to find her smiling down at me. "I wish I had red hair like yours instead of this blonde."

My mom was a blonde but not just any blonde, the hot kind. She had a slim figure and a pretty smile. Whenever she smiled, she lit up the whole room.

"I think your hair is really beautiful, Mom."

She chuckled. "Of course you do, that's because you're my baby." She tapped my nose and I grinned.

"When you get back from school today, we can go to Marcelo's and have that pizza you love so much."

My grin widened. Mushroom pizza with extra cheese. I couldn't wait.

My dad appeared in the kitchen doorway with my mom's hairbrush in hand and I groaned.

"Weapon of mass destruction," I mumbled.

"Oh shush it!" She took the brush from him and began the tedious work of combing my hair. It was horrific. My hair was lengthy for a black girl and it snagged on the brush every time she ran it through. We went through the same procedure yesterday, still, I managed to accumulate a lot of knots in it again in the few hours I spent sleeping.

"Maybe you need to get a cot. One that locks you in place so you wouldn't move around so much in your sleep."

"Haha! Very funny, Mom."

My dad went into the living room and came back a while later with his radio. He poured himself a glass of milk and took a sip from it. The morning news was being broadcasted and he listened attentively, lost in his world. I wondered what fathers saw in listening to the radio.

How my parents had ended up together still baffled me. My dad was a black man. A geeky nerd with brown hair, who wore glasses, and had a moustache. A handsome geeky nerd though. He was the anchor of the evening news in our local TV station. On the other hand my mom was white. She was like the preppy cheerleader in high school with blond hair, cornflower blue eyes and the prettiest smile in all of Hollister. And with dimples to boot. She once featured in a toothpaste advert when she was younger. Now she owned a salon in the town square. My parents were the most unlikely couple, but I guessed that when you fell in love, nothing else mattered.

In other news, a most shocking revelation about Medex, the pioneer research institute has been uncovered. It was recently discovered that the institute that created the vaccine for the ACID virus had been carrying out unsanctioned and illegal experiments on humans for years.

My mom's movements on my head stilled. My dad, in the process of picking up his glass of milk also froze.

I frowned. "Mom, isn't that the name of the hospital I used to go to for check-ups?"

They both shared a look that was too heavy to be meaningless. There was tension in the air that had been absent a while ago. My mom cleared her throat.

"I think the hospital is just an extension of the institute. It's probably nothing other than the media trying to create false rumors or something." She patted my hair, "Your hair is better now. What say we eat?"

My dad switched off the radio and my mom served the rest of the dishes. I took a forkful of my now cold omelet and chewed. Both of them had their heads turned down to their plates but none of them ate a single thing. The once cheery atmosphere was now thick with tension. A tension so thick I could cut it with a knife. It made me feel uneasy and I lost my appetite. I poured myself a glass of milk to wash down the little I'd eaten.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

"No, honey." My dad looked up.

"You both started acting weird after listening to the news. Should I be worried?" My stomach was churning, I could feel the food I just ate threatening to make its way back up. I normally got anxious easily and when I did, a panic attack wasn't usually far behind.

"There's nothing wrong, okay. It's your birthday. When you get back, we can have a proper celebration." My dad got up, carried the cake and put it back into the fridge.

"Mom?" I placed my hand on hers and she looked up.

"What your dad said, Honey. I think you should start getting ready for school, Riven's going to be here anytime now to pick you up."

Her voice was subdued. She had this little one-sided frown on her face which she always had when she was worried about something.

"Okay." I swallowed. I picked up my backpack and got out of my chair. "I'll go wait out for Riven."

"Bye, Sweetie." She waved at me with a smile on her face. A smile that looked more like a grimace. Something was wrong.

"Love you, Mom. Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Honey," they chorused.

I stepped out of the house and into the driveway. I walked past the lawn and opened the little gate in the front. My house was the perfect picture of a storybook house with the mowed lawn and the white picket fence. I was still feeling queasy and the urge to sneeze was building but the sneeze never came. I sniffed again and looked up to find Mrs. Hawthorne's car moving close to me.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hawthorne."

"Good morning, Sally."

She stopped the car in front of me and I got in the back. "Hey, Riven."