Obsessed by Allison Britz

Author:Allison Britz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

CHAPTER 14

I’m lying curled in a fetal position on the carpet upstairs, my eyes jammed closed against the bright afternoon sun. I’m hiding from the world in darkness, and it’s taking all of my energy. I haven’t eaten today. There isn’t much else I can do besides lie here, passing gently to and from sleep.

But more than hunger, it’s the heavy weight in my chest that’s drawing me into myself. Although I wasn’t forbidden from passing my precal exam like I was chemistry, I wasn’t allowed to study, which is basically the same thing. Exhausted and shell-shocked, I started crying in the middle of the final on Friday as I looked down at the completely blank five-page exam. A golden ticket to failure. With all my classmates staring, and under the pressure of Ms. Tisman’s questions, I feigned food poisoning. After a few fake gags, I was given permission to come retake the test on Monday, tomorrow, the first day of Christmas break, with an entire letter grade deducted from my final score as penalty.

“Allison, honey! C’mon, this is the third time I’ve called you!” My mom’s voice carries up the carpeted stairs to find me in the den. “It’s almost halftime. You’re missing the game!” I know she is talking to me, but I don’t listen to it. Whatever she’s saying doesn’t matter.

But within a few seconds, I hear her muffled steps climbing up the stairs. She’s coming to check on me. “You wouldn’t believe what’s just happened,” she projects down the hall. “We blocked a field goal and—” Her voice cuts off as she turns the corner into the den. I feel her eyes freeze on me, taking in my emaciated body on the carpet. “Allison! What are you—” She rushes into the room and crouches down by my side, knees popping. “Are you okay? Why are you on the floor?” I ignore her, keeping my eyes closed and my head buried deep in the soft carpet fibers. I can’t do this right now. “Honey?” She is screaming as if she has just seen me get hit by a car. A loud, frantic scream that oozes fear. “HONEY?” She grabs my right arm hard and shakes my body back and forth, jarring me out of my half coma.

“Whaaaat?” I yell at her, opening my eyes and squinting into the light. “Stop! Why are you shaking me?” My voice jerks under the violent pumps of her arms. She isn’t crying, but she’s on the verge. Of something. Her eyes are searching, manic, looking me up and down. She pats my arms, legs, head, as if checking to see I’m still intact. “Stop!” I jerk my body away from her, sit up a few inches, reclining against my elbow. I shoot her my best What the f is wrong with you? glare.

“Oh, you just looked . . .” She seems surprised to see me sitting up. “I thought you were . . .” A wave of relief sweeps over her face but her hand is still gripping my arm.

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