Page 89 of Bump and Run

“Come on.” I wave up the stairs at Junior and he follows me down.

We rush to the ground floor, my eyes constantly over my shoulder as we move. He throws the front door open and I force him outside onto the concrete stairs.

“Thanks for coming over,” I whisper, fighting to be heard over the harsh chirping of country birds. “And for the coffee. I owe you one.”

Junior closes the short gap between us and cups my cheek with one hand. He leans down to kiss me, holding me in place for longer than safety allows. A wave of warmth tingles all the way down to my toes, nearly knocking me off balance as his lips purse with mine.

He pulls away and smiles again. “Bye, Ellie.”

“Bye, Junior.”

I watch him leave. He takes off, sprinting fast down the driveway towards the large bushes on the street. I feel a twinge in my gut as he disappears from sight and my forehead breaks out into a thick sweat.

I head back to my room, moving slowly to fight the dizzy spell suddenly wreaking havoc in my head.

It pulls me towards the bathroom and that wretched nausea from yesterday comes back with a full vengeance.

Afterward, I sit on the cold linoleum floor, once again wondering what the hell it was I ate that made me so sick.

This doesn’t feel like the normal flu but it doesn’t quite feel like food poisoning either.

Maybe it’s mono or something — full sexual lock-down for at least six weeks, I’m sure Junior will just love that.

Maybe it’s Ebola, that sounds fun. Flesh-eating bacteria.

Or maybe I’m just preg—

I stare at the pink wall in front of me.

Oh, shit.

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