Page 244 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Mom grins. “I think he’s delightful.”
“Wow, okay. Is it just because he’s a guy? Would you be happy with any guy I brought home?”
Mom chuckles. “Of course not. Why would you ask?”
“Well, you prefer the boys to me.”
Mom caresses the side of my face. “Oh, Tabby. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’ve put the boys on pedestals. But I’m aware of it now. Surely I can work on it. Don’t you think so?”
I shrug. “Maybe?”
“I will. I promise, I will.”
I nod. “Okay. Shall we get going?”
“If you believe me.”
“I believe you’ll try.”
Mom caresses the side of my face one more time. “Okay, I’ll get Corbs.” Mom searches the hallway. “Corbin?”
When I follow behind her, I hear the retching in the bathroom. “Eww.”
Mom knocks on the bathroom door and turns the door handle. “Corbin, sweetie?”
“Mommy,” he whines from inside the bathroom. “Mommy, I’m sick.”
Mom frantically moves into the bathroom, and I jump away, holding my stomach in fright. “He’s sick?”
I back away, grimacing at the ugly sounds echoing from the toilet bowl. Oh my gosh, he’s sick. Is it food poisoning from last night? Is it a virus he picked up from school and has spread it to the rest of us?
“Oh, I told you not to eat all that candy last night,” Mom chastises him. “You never should’ve snuck it in.”
I blow out a relieved breath. I can’t catch a stomach full of sugar.
I creep toward the bathroom door. “So, are you guys still coming?”
There’s another big retch, and then a groan from Mom. “Oh, Corbin.”
I back away. “I’ll see you later then.”
Once I step foot in the living area, it dawns on me. Without Mom, I don’t have a ride. I swipe across the phone indent in my pocket. I could call Freddy, but that would risk another Amber ride. Who knows where Drew is, or who he’s with?
Dad moves out of the kitchen and gives me a chipper smile. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”
“Oh.” I throw a thumb behind me. “Corbin’s vomiting.”
Dad’s face drops, and he steps toward the hallway. “What? Is he okay?”
“Mom said it was too much candy.”
“Honey?” Dad calls out. “Everything okay?”
Mom moves into the hallway, and I spy her exasperation. “It’s watery. I think he’ll be okay.”
“We have electrolytes in the kitchen cupboard,” Dad replies.
Mom nods. “I’ll make sure he gets them.”
