Turning Grace (The Turning Series, Book 1) Page 6

  Chapter 5

  The Threat

  I peeled myself away from the front door and the thoughts of Tristen’s sweet smile and headed towards the kitchen. All of the plates were still pretty much full. During our study session, I managed to ingest enough food to hold me over, without convincing Tristen that I was some kind of freak. I paced myself and daintily picked the smallest pieces on the plate. It was tough, but I managed. Now I was beginning to starve again, and I needed some food…now.

  I sat down at the dinner table and without any thought, dug into every dish. It was cold and dry, but I could still taste the delicious herbs and spices. Before I knew it, everything was gone and I wanted more.

  “Still hungry, Gracie?” Mom walked into the kitchen as if she read my mind. I looked over at her, still pissed from her behavior that afternoon.

  I nodded and looked away.

  She walked over to the refrigerator and before she pulled out the dish covered in aluminum foil, I could smell the roast.

  “I knew you would want more.” She uncovered the container and a whiff of tender meat whipped around my head. I needed it...

  “Mom, you can just bring that over here. I don’t mind it cold,” I said, trying not to sound anxious. She looked over at me in confusion.

  She stared at me for a moment before walking over to the silverware drawer. She pulled out a fork and brought the dish over to the table. I watched every movement, every step she took, anticipating the moment I can savor the glorious pot roast. She set it down in front of me and I dug into it, not able to hold off any longer.

  Without a word, she left the room and headed upstairs. Was she mad at me? At the moment, I didn’t really care. Food was more important. But I knew I needed to finish up quickly and go have a talk with her.

  When I finished, which was all too soon, I prepared my speech and headed upstairs to her bedroom. I needed to know why she tried to sabotage my study date. Why would she purposely try to embarrass me in front of Tristen? Maybe she was unaware of my sudden uncontrollable yearning for food. But how could she forget the episode just the night before? And about that…I needed to ask her what was wrong with me. She was a doctor, she should at least have some idea as to why I had been feeling…different lately.

  And what about the pomegranate juice? I knew she said she made a fresh batch last night. How could it have all been gone? I had never seen her drink it before. As a matter of fact, I could remember her saying it was too sweet for her, and that she preferred something less sugary.

  I made my way to her bedroom and knocked on the door. When she didn’t answer, I slowly opened the door into darkness. She was asleep. Great. I closed the door quietly and headed into my bedroom, making mental notes of all of my questions. I will just have to ask her in the morning.

  The following day, I awoke to the smell of bacon, sausage, and the usual aromas of a breakfast feast. Before I knew it, I was throwing the covers off of me and heading down the stairs. I was starved.

  I entered the kitchen to find dishes full of my much-loved breakfast foods…and a note. I grabbed a piece of bacon and the note.

  Gracie,

  I had to head out early to work. As you can see, breakfast is made and lunch is already in your bag for school.

  I will see you this afternoon. Please be sure to eat your breakfast and your lunch today.

  I love you.

  Mom

 

  Huh…well she certainly didn’t have to worry about me finishing breakfast.

  Phoebe smacked me on the arm when I met her in our usual spot for our walk to school. “Why didn’t you call me last night after your date!” she yelled.

  “Ouch!”

  “Sorry,” she apologized.

  “Phoebe! I was just tired.”

  “So, did you guys…you know,” she wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

  It was my turn to smack her on the arm. “No! It wasn’t like that.”

  “Ouch!” she smiled and smacked me again. “So what was it like?”

  I rubbed my arm, again, and smiled. My heart began the race as the memory of sitting so close to Tristen flooded my mind. “We just…studied.”

  “That’s it?” Phoebe asked. I knew she would be disappointed. In her mind, Tristen would have walked into the house, thrown me on the kitchen table, and had his way with me. Although that scenario didn’t sound too bad, my version would have included the food laid out over everything. Maybe he would be feeding some to me? I smiled again.

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Okay with what?” I lost my train of thought.

  “G, you had the hottest guy in school, the guy that you have been daydreaming about for like, ever, at your house…and you didn’t make a move?” This was preposterous to Phoebe. She was not some easy chick, but she would have at least made it to first base with him.

  “Well, Phoebe, not all of us have the guts that you do. I couldn’t just make out with him right there in my kitchen…when my mother is keeping an eye on us.”

  “Oh, right. Mom was there. So, was there at least some flirting going on?” She sounded defeated, but hopeful.

  “You can say that.” I smiled. “He told me I was beautiful.”

  Phoebe shoved me. “Get out!”

  I wanted to punch her for hitting that same arm for the third time, but I couldn’t help the grin creeping across my face. Tristen Miles thought I was beautiful.

  “So, are you guys gonna hang out again?”

  “He asked me about Halloween.”

  “Is he coming with us?” She could not contain herself any longer.

  “Well, I sort of asked him to. I’m sorry, Phoebe. I know it’s normally just me and you. It just kind of came out. He probably won’t even—”

  “No! It’s perfect. Eric wants to come hang out with us too. It’ll be a double date!”

  A double date. A date. A real date with Tristen. This concept sent the butterflies in my belly on a rampage and I held on to that thought as we approached our day at school.

  The day dragged on, as usual, but I could not help the sappy grin across my face. I didn’t see Tristen until calculus. We walked through the door almost at the same time. When we were nearly touching each other, he leaned in and whispered into my ear, “Good luck”. The smell of his minty breath cooled my senses and the feel of it sent tingles down my spine. Those two words flowed through me like silk as I fought the urge to fall into his arms.

  “Good luck,” was all I could manage to respond.

  I was happy. I knew Tristen was going to ace this test and it was because of me. I will have saved him from failing and from getting kicked off the swim team. It would be because of my weird math genius that he will be in a great mood today.

  After roll call and about thirty minutes of answering lingering questions students had regarding the material, Mrs. Turner handed out our tests and started the clock. This test was a piece of cake, and I knew I could probably ace it with my eyes closed. I was the top in our class, and knew everyone hated me in some way because math came so easily to me. For a moment, I wondered why I never started tutoring sessions for students. It would have been a great way to make some cash on the side.

  Halfway through completing the test, a sharp pain shot across my belly. My reflexes forced me to clench onto my stomach and I winced. Julie, the cute little red head who sat next to me, looked over in my direction and noticed my pained expression.

  “Grace,” she whispered. “You okay?”

  I turned to her, nodded, and glanced back down at my paper. I was getting the hunger pains again. I looked up at the clock. Only thirty more minutes till lunch. Clenching down tighter onto my belly, I tried to force myself to only think about this test. The definite integral. I just explained this to Tristen last night, this was simple.

  But as I prepared to work out the equations in my mind I…I couldn’t. I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t remember how to do the problem, or even wha
t the definite integral meant. It was as though my mind became confused, unable to understand. And as if that weren’t bad enough, the numbers and letters began to intertwine into one and I could no longer make out what it said. I glanced out onto the rest of the classroom, watching everyone else struggling to answer the questions. But not for the same reasons.

  They began spinning. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and looked back down at the test. That didn’t help. The pain worsened and I hunched over. I squinted my eyes, trying hard to focus. My head began to throb and my eyesight was blurring. I caught a glimpse of my book bag on the floor from the corner of my eye. Suddenly, the faint aroma of roast beef and turkey made its way to my nose. It seemed I suddenly developed x-ray vision. As if I could see straight through my book bag. I could see the sandwich and the rest of my lunch inside a paper bag, waiting to be eaten. My mouth watered and I forced myself to return my focus to the test.

  “Five minute warning,” Mrs. Turner said from her desk. My head shot up. How did twenty-five minutes already fly by? I was only halfway done!

  I glanced over at Tristen. He looked pretty confident. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.

  Okay, I can do this, I told myself. I set my elbows down on the desk and ran my fingers through my hair. Something felt weird. I pulled my hands back down and gasped. A chunk of my hair was in my palm. I quickly tightened my hand into a fist to hide it. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed. I had to get out of there. I grabbed my bag and my test and made my way to Mrs. Turner’s desk.

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Turner. I have to go.” My voice was hoarse.

  “Grace, are you okay?”

  I ignored her as I made my way to the door. The bell rang right before I made it there and as I reached to turn the knob, darkness overcame me.