little grin on his face
knowing my parents were more upset with me than him at the moment.
He looked up at my mother his eyes full of innocence, "I was just
trying to win the game."
"Of course you were, sweetie," she ruffled
his hair.
I huffed out loud, "Can we just go inside
now?"
My father had bent down and was examining the
screen. I felt a pang of panic but he didn't seem to think anything
of it and just jimmied it back into place. He stood up, "Yeah,
let's eat," he said and took me by the shoulder as I led the way
back to the house.
After we were inside Evan and I washed up
then we hurried to the dining room. My mom and dad were already
seated and waiting for us. As soon as we sat down my father took up
his fork and knife and started eating. My mom did too, but not with
quite so much enjoyment as my dad seemed to have.
"Everything's cold," she sighed and tossed a
hard look at me as if to indicate that it was my fault.
"What?" I glared back. "I'm to blame? What
about Evan? He's the one..."
My dad spoke over me, "Let's just eat; Emily
and Evan both understand what they did wrong, don't you?"
"Yes," Evan nodded emphatically while I just
stared in disbelief. My father waited expectantly.
"Yeah," I reluctantly agreed.
"And it won't happen again, right?"
"Right."
"And?" my father gave me another hard
look.
"And..." for a second or two I wasn't sure
what I was supposed to say, "I'm sorry..." it sounded more like a
question than a response but it satisfied my dad and he resumed
eating.
My mother and Evan followed suit so I picked
up my fork. I wasn't feeling very hungry and while everyone else
ate I just sat there absently pushing the food on my plate around.
I thought about Daemon and wondered where he was and what he was
doing. I could feel the weight of his amulet tucked beneath my
shirt and resting against my chest.
"This is me," I remembered his words and
smiled to myself.
"Why aren't you eating," my mom asked.
"I'm not hungry," I shrugged.
She must have thought I was feeling guilty
for worrying her and my dad and using a softer tone encouraged me
to try something. I gathered a tiny bite of chicken onto my fork
and took a reluctant nibble. It tasted awful and I hurriedly
reached for my milk and took a hasty sip. It was no better than the
meat I had just tried and I nearly choked on it when I tried to
swallow. I forced it down my throat then wiped my mouth with my
napkin.
My parents and brother frowned and I
fretfully peered at each of their curious faces, "I'm...I'm not
feeling well."
I stood up and raced from the dining room. I
made it upstairs and to the bathroom my brother and I shared. I
wretched once or twice but nothing would come up. When I realized I
wouldn't or couldn't be sick I used the edge of the sink to pull
myself up and splashed some cold water on my face.
Feeling it trickling down my cheeks made me
realize that I was desperately thirsty and I started cupping
handful after handful and slurping it down. When I had finally had
my fill I looked up and studied my reflection in the mirror. I
tilted my head this way and that and couldn't seem to take my eyes
away from myself.
"It's uncomfortable, I
know..." Daemon's words echoed in my head.
There was a loud rap on the door and I jumped
when I heard it, "Emily, are you alright, sweetie?"
I took a deep breath and braced myself, "I'm
fine. I'll be right out."
I turned back to my reflection, blinked once
or twice and tried to shake the uneasiness away. I dried my hands
and wiped my face before feigning what I hoped would be a look of
unconcern as I opened the door.
"What's wrong, honey?" All her earlier anger
was replaced with heartfelt concern.
"I think I'm just tired," I mumbled.
She lay her palm against my forehead, "Are
you sure sweetie? You look a little pale," she took my hands and
gave them a gentle squeeze, "and you feel like ice," she said
completely forlorn.
"I was just washing up and the water was
really cold," I shivered in