Little Rooms

Chapter 12

Late nights with Isaiah, and the constant reminder of what we were up to, left me weak in the knees and stomach. It was a struggle to study and plow through homework when I could feel circles digging deeper and deeper under my eyes.

"Honey, I know you've been working hard on schoolwork, but remember to take care of yourself. You could also try a little undereye concealer.."

My mother's hand was wrapped around a travel kit filled with her own makeup. She whipped out a tube of concealer and presented it to me. Travel kits signaled that it was that time again.

"Where are you going this time?"

"Baja! Bev and I are going to rough it on the beach."

"When will you be back?"

Her lips curled down. "Next week. This is a short trip because I want to be home before your father comes back."

He was almost done wooing the Austrians and might have even set-up camp there, planning never to return. I wouldn't blame him.

"But try the concealer. Please. You look... haggard." She patted my hand and turned toward her room to finish packing.

Cassie was standing in her door, cracking gum and rolling her eyes. They were also looking a little baggy.

"Can you believe she gave me this?" I said, holding up the tube.

"That's nothing. She gave me a box of douche she got on sale. Tell me that doesn't send a message."

I squeezed the concealer in my fist and followed Cassie to the bathroom to put on my face. We stood in front of the long mirror, two sisters with different styles. As I put a light brown liner on my lids, Cassie took what looked like a big black crayon and circled her eyes good and thick.

"This is how I deal with undereye circles. I just make 'em bigger!" She laughed, moving on to smear blood red lipstick across her mouth.

I patted my face with spackle and tried to cover the life that was showing up on my face, but it was difficult. Cassie put down the war paint and leaned against the counter.

"So, what's going on with that boy?"

"Isaiah?"

"No. Joe Martin." Cassie agreed with me that Joe was anything but ideal. "Seriously, are you in love with Isaiah?"

"I don't know."

"Nicole Edwards doesn't know. That blows my mind." She smirked, turning back to the mirror to finish her face. I felt winded, as if the air wasn't filling my lungs like it should.

She continued. "I know he sleeps here. A lot."

The lack of air in my lungs made my heart thump against my ribs like a wild beast, each heaving under the pressure. I braced myself against the counter.

"What do you mean he sleeps here?"

"Sometimes I come home late and he's in the bathroom taking a piss," she said, smiling and folding her arms like a smart-ass.

A burning sensation ran from my throat to my insides like I was gonna lose it. I ran to the toilet and kneeled on the marble floor.

"Sheesh, didn't mean to make you throw up. It's not like I'm gonna tell on you."

Cassie came over and held up my hair. I dry heaved a few times before laying down on the floor.

"You're green."

"I feel like I'm dying." Cassie knelt down and took my pulse.

"What're you doing?"

"Checking your heart rate," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "You're fine. Probably a panic attack."