Conditions of a Heart by Bethany Mangle

Author:Bethany Mangle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Books
Published: 2024-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

TONGUE

INCINERATION! INCINERATION! INCINERATION!

SALIVARY GLANDS

DEPLOY DROOL!

BRAIN

WATER!

All of these directives arrive simultaneously, the panic making it impossible to sort priorities and demands. This culminates in me doubling over and then attempting to run away from my own mouth. My eyes become waterfalls, and I pinwheel my arms in a losing battle to stay upright as a new wave of fire streaks across my lips and throbs in between my teeth.

My hands clamp to my throat as scorching air blazes through my lungs. A couple of people shout as I smack into a piece of glass and slide to the floor, weeping.

“Here’s some milk,” Oliver says urgently, latching onto my ring finger as I paw in the air for the cup. My skin slides along cool ceramic, and he adjusts the handle until it’s within my grip, supporting the bottom of the mug as I lean in.

It must be called hand-eye coordination for a reason because without being able to see the level of the liquid, I splash half of it onto my face, belatedly registering that it’s milk and not water. The cold milk dribbles down my neck and into my collar, but the half a mouthful I manage to drink is blissful.

“Oh my God. Thank you.” I send more milk cascading down my face, not even caring that my second-favorite bra now qualifies as a dairy product.

A laugh cuts through the haze of my suffering. I wave my arm at Oliver until, unseeing, I latch onto the strap of his messenger bag, forcing my charred vocal cords to speak the seven most critical words of my life: “Don’t let anyone put this on TikTok.”

He presses a handful of napkins into my palm. “You have milk leaking out of your nose.”

“Please,” I beg. “Defend my online honor.”

“I am. Don’t worry.”

“And don’t tell my dad. He’ll judge me.”

The heat gradually subsides over the next ten minutes, restoring most of my bodily functions to their normal working order—or at least their normal disorder. I can see enough to note that the glass I ran into is a deli’s display counter. If having a rumpled, ghost-peppered teenage girl bleating next to your store is bad for business, none of the employees seem too perturbed.

If anything, I’m good advertising for the hot-sauce guy.

“You should say thank you to the coffee people,” Oliver says as he steps inside to return their mug. “They donated the milk.”

By now the milk has dried enough that it’s not visible, but I can feel it sticking my hair together. “Thank you for rescuing me,” I call from a distance, certain that I must smell by now. I want to wave, but if I stop physically holding my stomach, I cannot guarantee the results.

“I’m betting you’re not that hungry,” Oliver remarks as we continue on and transition into one of the seating areas by a cluster of restaurants.

I usually love the gigantic poppy-seed bagels from the booth around the corner, but I’m pretty sure my taste buds are too seared for a solid meal with any kind of texture.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.