Living High School to the Fullest (Completed)

Chapter 19: Dr. Emma Love

Dedicated to already blessed for being wonderful!! :D

Chapter 19

It seemed to me like the drive to Emma took forever, even though it didn’t. I got out of the car quickly, rang the door bell and was a bit surprised when Emma’s mom opened the door. She’s usually still at work that early in the afternoon.

“Oh, hello Sarah. Come on in. Emma is upstairs,” she told me with a tiny smile. She was wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt; a rare outfit for her to be seen in. Come to think of it, she was quite pale and didn’t look that good.

“Thanks,” I replied as I stepped into the house and took off my shoes, slipping into one pair of slippers the Scotts provided for their guests. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, I’ve been better,” she sighed. “I know you teenagers think you know everything, but word of the wise? Always make sure to check the food expiration dates.”

Oh. I get it.

“I will. Feel better soon,” I said as I watched Mrs. Scott retreating into the living room where a crumpled blanket on the couch was clear evidence that she had set camp in there and wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

Not even a minute later I carefully opened the door to Emma’s room. I didn’t want to knock in case she was sleeping. She wasn’t; my friend was lying on her bed, reading a book, and turned her head to greet me when she heard the door creaking. “Oh, hey! You’re early.”

Em was wearing long blue pyjama bottoms with a print of little yellow rubber ducks and a dark red shirt. Her hair was a bit of a mess, but she didn’t seem to be paler than usual. She scooted to the right a little and patted the pillow next to her, inviting me over.

“Hey, Em. How are you?” I asked concerned and sat down right next to her on her mattress.

“You know, I’m almost as good as new again, considering that my own mother has poisoned me.”

“How’s your dad?” I wondered aloud. Sunday dinners are pretty much the only time Emma’s mom decides to cook something herself. She wasn’t the best chef and usually opted for take-out during the week. Well, maybe she’ll consider ordering in for Sundays now, too.

“Oh, he’s fine. He went to a poker night last night. Lucky bastard. I had to throw up all morning. We really need to get better bath mats. If you sit on them all day, your chances of getting a bladder infection increase highly,” she said with annoyance and put a bookmark between the pages. “And have you ever noticed how many words exist for the simple act of throwing up? Puke, vomit, upchuck, spew, regurgitate, de-swallow –“

“I’m pretty sure de-swallow as a word doesn’t exist,” I interrupted my friend slightly amused. Yep, she definitely sounded a lot better than on the phone that morning.

“Are you sure?” She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully.

“Yep.”

“Whatever. Thing is, I’ve thrown up more times than synonyms exist for it. There’s nothing left inside my stomach. For a minute, I was afraid I would be hurling my intestines out next. Oh, hurl! See? Another one!” She put her book aside on the nightstand and studied me closely. “But enough about me, why are you here already? Don’t you have to be at the environmental club today? But most importantly, what did people say about our little concert in the cafeteria? Did we make it on top of the rumor mill?”

“No, we didn’t,” I informed her.

“What? Why not?” Emma sounded very disappointed. Then she groaned: ”Oh please, don’t tell me that Rachel decided to get pregnant the one day I’m not in school.”

Yep. Em was definitely feeling better again.

“I’ll tell you everything, don’t you worry. And trust me, there is lots to tell you,” I let her know with a frown on my face, remembering the day’s events. “You picked the worst day to be sick, Em. Today was the Monday straight from hell.”