Itch by Polly Farquhar

Author:Polly Farquhar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2020-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

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At the nurse’s office I took my medicine. “I couldn’t get ahold of your dad,” the nurse told me. “Don’t you have a backup emergency contact? That part of your form is incomplete. You should really have a backup.”

“We don’t know anyone here,” I told her. “We moved from New York. State. That’s where everybody is.” When she gave me a look, I told her, “My family everybody.”

“How about a friend’s parent?”

I thought about Sydney’s parents on the way to the ER. “No.”

Dad and I hadn’t managed to update my medications at school and all the forms and so I had to take the older medicine. It tasted a lot better but it didn’t last as long and eventually conked me out. I hadn’t taken my new medicine this morning the way I was supposed to. I’d thought it was overkill to take something every day for something that happened once in a while and might not even stop it. Maybe it wasn’t. But being sleepy was a good thing. I’d sleep until my dad came to get me. The dark nurse’s office with its green cots and paper sheets never looked so good. I’d stay there forever.

It turned out that the principal was looking for me and they still hadn’t found my dad, and eventually I made the mistake of opening my eyes and the nurse decided to escort me back to class.

“I can’t go back.”

“Sure you can,” she said.

“I’m not awake.”

“Your hives are pretty much gone and the swelling’s reduced.”

What did it matter if I went back to class? Sydney was in the hospital. Because of me, Sydney couldn’t breathe. Because of me, Sydney’s heart pumped too slowly to move her blood the way it was supposed to. Because of me, Sydney might die.

As we walked together through the quiet hallway I was too sleepy to plan my escape. To think about running. Boom. Gone. Bye. Out the door. Just run somewhere. Home. The farm. Straight to China. My brain and my legs weren’t really working together and the idea and my commitment to it didn’t really join up until it was too late and the nurse blocked me in by my classroom door.

“Don’t you understand what happened in there?”

“I do,” she said. “Everybody will be fine.”

“Sydney?”

“Sydney will be okay. You will too.”

She was lying about the second part. I just hoped she wasn’t lying about the first.

All the rows were back in perfect order and everyone sat in their seats. Sydney wasn’t there. The room was very quiet. Everybody looked at me. I looked at nobody. When I walked by Nate on the way to my desk he said, “Enjoy your sandwich.”

Mrs. Anderson passed out the math tests. I couldn’t believe it. How could she still expect us to do this? How could anyone concentrate? How could this be fair? But everyone else picked up their pencils and leaned forward and got to work. I felt the choke coming a mile away. I didn’t even hope for good luck.

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