Ruin .(25)

    “Want to make funny shapes and freak Lisa out?” Gabe asked. Clearly we were done talking about me. I couldn’t be more thankful.

    “She’s scared of pancakes?”

    “Mickey Mouse ones.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “Tragic experience at Disneyland when she was four.”

    “Wait.” I laughed. “She’s scared of Mickey?”

    “He sneezed in her face. Her princess hat fell off. She cried. It was a whole…” he waved in the air, “…episode.”

    “Sure.” I grabbed the spoon. “I used to make these all the time for—” My voice trailed off.

    “For?” he said.

    “For my family.”

    “Cool.” He dropped it and went to get plates while I dropped the batter onto the hot skillet.

    Lisa finished showering just as we made the last pancake. Gabe chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “It’s the little things in life that thrill me.”

    “Good to know.” I put a pancake on Lisa’s plate and handed it to him.

    “Cousin?” Gabe called. “We made you something extra special.”

    “Mm.” She took a deep appreciative sniff. “It smells like pancakes, yeah?” She placed the dish on the table and pulled out her chair. Then her eyes fell on her plate. With a scream she stepped back and tripped over her chair, sailed to the ground, and landed with a thud.

    “Classic.” Gabe held out his fist. I bumped it.

    “Damn, mouse,” Lisa said from the floor.

    Gabe went to help her up. She swatted his hand away. “Lisa, don’t mope.”

    “I’m not moping.” She crossed her arms. “I’m just… on pancake strike.”

    He sighed and knelt down. “Want me to break up your pancake so it doesn’t look mousey anymore?”

    “I don’t care, do what you want,” she snapped.

    Gabe reached for her plate and destroyed the mouse shape then handed it back. “See? All better.”

    Lisa kissed his cheek and allowed him to help her up. “Thanks, Gabe.”

    “It was a mouse.” I was still processing the fact that she’d been that freaked out over a pancake.

    “Don’t even go there.” Lisa thrust her finger in my face. “You have night terrors and scare your roommate crapless. I hate Mickey. We all have our hang ups.” She had me there.

    “Night terrors?” Gabe tilted his head in my direction. “Don’t only little kids have night terrors?”

    “And me.” I plopped down onto my seat. “Apparently.” Though I hadn’t had one last night. I left that part out. It was a rarity.

    Once we finished eating I sent Uncle Jo a quick text.

    I kissed a guy and ate way too many pancakes this morning. How’s that for crazy?

    He replied back right away.

    That’s my girl.





    Chapter Fifteen





    Whoever invented trial drugs should be shot — or maybe just me. Yeah, forget him, shoot me.





    Weston

    “When did the nausea start?” David felt my forehead and grimaced. “A few hours ago? Days?”

    I pushed his hand away and cursed. “I think the better question would be, when haven’t I felt nauseous? Seriously, I’m all better now, see?” I gave him a wide smile and stood. I had to brace myself against the desk for a few brief moments before I felt like I was solid enough to walk in a straight line.

    David stood right along with me. “We have to record these things, Wes. You know that.”

    I groaned and made my way to the door. “I know that. It’s been the same for the past six months, and I hate to break it to you but I’m not getting better.”

    “That’s a bad attitude and you know it. The doctor said—”

    “Screw the doctors!” I hit my fist against the door as my voice wavered with frustration.

    I felt David’s heavy sigh. I was used to those. The last year had been filled with them. First my dad’s sigh at learning that the drugs were our last option, my coach’s sigh when I told him I might not be able to finish out the year, and finally the doctor’s sigh, when he said my chances were at fifty percent.