Chapter Two

I woke to the smell of burnt coffee. Oops. I'd forgotten to turn the coffee maker off last night. This morning. Whatever. Luckily, Lucy hadn't woken up yet, so I took the coffee and poured it into the drinking fountain outside our room and sprayed some Lysol. Good as new.

I was checking my e-mail when Lucy finally woke up.

"Why are you up so early?" Lucy asked and rubbed her eyes.

"Is it early?" I looked at the clock. 7:13 and I didn't have class until 10. "Oh, I just had some homework to finish."

"Oh, ok, whatever." Lucy scooted to the foot of her bed and crawled down the ladder. She grabbed her shower caddy and walked out of the room.

I rubbed my eyes. I really needed to get more sleep. I was afraid to sleep for more than a couple hours at at time, though, in case something should happen.

I walked over to my bed and flopped down. I was just dozing off when Lucy came back in the room.

"Hey, sleepyhead, are we going out tonight?" she asked.

"Um, sure," I replied with my eyes closed. I had planned on going home, but hadn't told her. Or my parents. I wanted to see if we had any gardening shears. "Is there a party or something?"

"Of course. I'm sure the Sigmas are having their weekly 'it's Friday, let's party' party."

"Sounds fun. I'm in."

"Awesome. Now, go back to sleep. I'll be gone in a few and I want you well-rested for tonight."

"Gotcha," I mumbled, and drifted off.

I woke up an hour later, feeling nauseous. I hauled myself out of bed and ran down the hall to the bathroom. I flung open a stall door, fell to my knees, and threw up. Violently. Like I'd been drinking. I finished, flushed the toilet, and rested my head against the cool, stall wall. I tried to remember what I'd had to eat the day before, and I was pretty sure the only things I'd consumed were coffee and a slice of pizza. No wonder I felt sick.

I dragged myself out of the stall and over to the sinks, where I splashed cold water on my face. I looked terrible. I was pale, my hair was stringy (I'd forgotten to shower the day before), and I had dark circles under my eyes.

I thought I was going crazy.

But I must not be, right? Crazy people didn't worry about being crazy.

Although . . . I wasn't really worried. Maybe I was crazy. That was the easiest answer.

Anyway, something must have been wrong with me if I was actually hoping that I was crazy.