Page 31 of Pieces

“Thanks, sweetie.” Mom smiles. “It’s good to have people here to spoil with my cooking.”

That’s an indirect jab at me because this is the first time I’ve been home since starting at CLU this year. Sure, it’s only been eight weeks, but I haven’t made it to a single one of Dad’s games. He knows, of course. I can see it in the way his texts always start with ‘You’d love the energy at the stadium’ or ‘Wildcats look good this season.’ He’d never call me out, but I can feel his disappointment in every polite nudge.

And…yeah, maybe I am putting too much pressure on myself. Finn keeps reminding me and sending me motivational pics of the sea with quotes, telling me to slow the fuck down. But in my defense, I’ve always been the busier twin, so why stop now?

“Don’t forget who peeled all those potatoes,” Dad chimes in, walking in from the living room with a sly grin and a wineglass in hand.

“Truly, the unsung hero of this meal,” Liv quips as she raises her glass in a mock toast to Dad.

“Damn right, those mashed potatoes wouldn’t exist without me.” Sitting down at the table, he presses a kiss to Mom’s head as he goes.

“They’re my fave, and I love you for making them, Dad,” I say, just as my stomach suddenly gurgles loudly, a warmth spreading uncomfortably through my middle.

Liv raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Jeez, Daph, are you really jonesing for those potatoes? Dive in already.”

I open my mouth to reply, but a sudden wave of nausea hits me like a truck, enough to make me dart to my feet. “Uh, excuse me a second,” I say, turning and rushing into the downstairs bathroom as a hot, unwelcome feeling explodes from my stomach. I pick up the pace, swinging the door open and slamming it shut.

As soon as I’m inside, my mouth waters and my body folds toward the toilet, and I heave, throwing up my breakfast from this morning. My stomach twists as another wave takes over, and I thank all the gods that I decided to wear a ponytail today.

As the feeling eases, I let out a shaky breath. My forehead’s clammy, and my knees feel weak. I reach for the edge of the sink to steady myself, the cool surface grounding me as I struggle to catch my breath.

“Daph?” Liv’s voice comes through the door. “You okay?”

I rinse my mouth quickly, trying to compose myself. “Yeah,” I croak, my voice scratchy. “Must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with me.” I think back to everything I’ve eaten in the last twenty-four hours, and there was that food truck that Liv and I stopped at yesterday before driving here. I had the chicken, and she had vegetarian.

Opening the door, I find Liv standing there, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Food truck,” we both say at the same time.

Groaning, I slump with my back against the wall and slide down until my butt hits the floor. “Of course it was the food truck,” I mutter, leaning my head back.

Liv plops down beside me with a huff, pulling her two dark braids forward and inspecting the ends of them. “I told you to go for the vegetarian.”

“I know,” I whine and, oh my god, why are my eyes prickling with tears.

Mom comes around the corner, her eyebrows knitted together. “Oh, sweetie, are you sick?” she says when she sees me slumped on the floor. She instantly kneels to touch my forehead, but I stop her.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I don’t think I can eat dinner,” I say, the words a little shakier than normal. “I’ll just go to my room and sleep it off.”

She waves me off as she stands. “It’s okay. Go lie down, sweetie. I’ll bring up some ginger ale and crackers soon.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I murmur, hauling myself to my feet with Liv’s help. My legs feel like jelly, but I manage to stay upright, even if I feel like a newborn foal. “Sorry I’ve messed up our plans.”

“You didn’t mess up anything,” Mom says firmly, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “Just rest, okay? That’s all I care about.”

As I shuffle toward the stairs, Liv trails behind me, her hand on my arm in case I keel over. Her grip tightens as I wobble on the first step. “Whoa, easy there. You good?”

“Yeah,” I say, though the room tilts slightly. “Just dizzy.”

We make it to my room, and I collapse onto the bed with a groan. Liv grabs a blanket from the foot of the bed and drapes it over me like some kind of overly sarcastic nurse. “There. Snug as a bug. Now don’t move.”

I crack a smile. “Thanks, Liv.”

She perches on the edge of the bed, scrolling on her phone. “Want me to put on something to watch? Maybe a movie? Or, ooh, one of those trashy reality shows you secretly love.”

“I’m not in the mood for trash,” I grumble, which isn’t like me. I live for watching people couple up in an exotic setting. But I don’t think I could appreciate the drama today. I close my eyes. “Just…stay, okay? In case I die from vomiting.”

Liv doesn’t hesitate. “Obviously. If you’re going down, I’m going down with you, Juliet.”