“Ma’s busy. She has work soon, she can’t come running just because you have a headache.

Take a Tylenol and deal with it. Grow up"

Ooooowww—

My little brother wanders past, pajamas trailing from his hands.

“Ari, tell Ma to come,” I croak.

My mouth is dry. My head is spinning. Am I going to faint? No, I got dizzy a few times recently, and nothing happened, except yesterday was worse than usual and today is even worse—

Henny barges into my room a minute later.

“What’s the big deal?” she demands. Hands on hips, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. Big sisters, ugh.

“I’m— seriously, I need Ma.” I clutch my stomach — of course, it’s acting up as well — and roll over.

“Ma’s busy. She has work soon, she can’t come running just because you have a headache. Take a Tylenol and deal with it. Grow up. Go to school. You missed two days already.”

My head is throbbing, beating a painful rhythm in my skull. “For your information, I missed yesterday because I was sick, and I still am, and can you just call Ma? Aaahh!”

I groan out loud, as something inside my stomach twists painfully. That scares her. She flings her hair into a ponytail and tramps down the stairs.

“Ma, Libby wants you.”

Sure enough, Ma calls from another room, “Who needs what? I’m in the laundry room.”

Forget it.