Chapter Four: They knew it was coming.

I huddled under my covers. "No school today.... No school today...." I repeated to myself, willing my body to become sick. If I tried hard enough... there. Nausea. Actual nausea. But was it sickness at what I was about to do to myself and my mom, at the thought of going to school, or was this truly a stomach bug? Of course it wasn't the last one. That must have been my inner hypochondriac speaking.

No school.... Those two words even made my heart flutter with what they symbolized. A full day of reading meaningless fanfiction on the computer, surfing the internet and generally having some quiet peaceful time and a chance to sleep in. I kept trying to tell myself that I'd definitely use it to make up the homework I didn't do the previous night, but my subconscious just laughed at me.

Footsteps. I suppose it was a blessing that not only was my room on the opposite end of the house, but that my parents walked like elephants. There was a click and a shuddering sort of sound as my door opened. "Breakfast." Mom simply said, and turned to leave, but stopped when I groaned.

She knew what was coming.

"I don't feel too good..."

"How so?" I can hear her disappointment, her sadness, everything in her voice. The guilt hit me at full force, but I buried it deep, deep under and left it there to rot a hole in me.

"Bad stomach sick." Remember, Katie: keep your words simple, act really sort of tired, keep your lips pressed together as if you're resisting the urge to vomit.

Mom sighed, and sat on the side of the bed. I shifted, moved my leg out from under her, and curled up into a ball. "Well, you have to go to school."

"I feel really, really bad. Like throw-up bad. Like sitting in math class then suddenly vomiting in front of everyone embarrassing myself for the rest of eterny bad." Shitshitshit, no, when you lie don't be that specific, especially when opening your mouth is supposed to make you want to toss your cookies.

"...And?"

"I don't think I should go to school." There it was, the bombshell. Luckily I remembered how blunt I was about wanting to stay home last time I was actually sick, so I can put it into good practice here.

"Eventually, you're going to gather up so many sick days you'll fail your classes." I know. I know. I know. Please, don't make me feel bad. Don't do this to me. "You don't want to repeat another year." IknowIknowIknowIknowIknow. Stop....

"No."

"...You need to call Liz."

I groaned. Couldn't I just sleep? "Can you call her?"

"You owe her. You're staying home sick. Now call her while I call the school." The weight left my bed and the door opened, Mom paused at the exit, obviously waiting for me to pick up my cell phone. I sighed, grabbed it off of my bedside table, and switched to the phonebook. Mom left, and I squinted against the backlight of the phone to make out Liz's number.

It rang three times before Liz answered.

"Yes?"

"Hey Liz... it's Katie."

"Oh, hey." She knew what was coming, too. Was I that predictable now? Had I gone that far?

"I'm... sick." Yeah, right. "I won't be able to take you in. Can you get a ride?"

"Yeah, yeah. You get better, 'kay?" She doesn't believe me. I can hear it, I can hear it saturating every syllable of every word she says, but Liz plays along.

"'Kay. Bye." I slid the phone shut.

I was a horrible person. 'But,' I resolved to myself quietly, 'I'll change.' My subconscious mocked me again, laughing at me as I slipped back into sleep, hoping for good dreams that would make my lie worthwhile.