Playing with Forever

Chapter 43: Sick

I really did try to work on it, the eating thing. I didn't make a ton of progress, but I usually ate a handful more than I normally did, whether it was grapes or chips or crackers, whatever was on sale at the grocery store that week. I knew Sam wanted more from me, but I couldn't compromise everything yet.

Two weeks in, I gave up on it. I went back to my old ways, but didn't tell Sam.

I eventually paid for it.

In Humanities, the ever exciting class full of unwelcome surprises, Ms. Reynolds announced that we were taking a fieldtrip.

I'd never been on a fieldtrip before. I was one of those kids in elementary school that never got their permission slip signed and had to spend the day in the library writing some essay instead of going to the zoo or the water recycling plant or whatever. I always asked my mom to sign the permission slip, but she didn't think about me often enough to remember to sign it.

But now I was eighteen, and I didn't need one. I was almost excited, until Ms. Reynolds explained that our field trip would be a hike on a trail on the outskirts of town. Really? A nature walk? It was better than nothing, I guess.

So that Friday, we met Ms. Reynolds at the trail head when first period would normally begin, having been excused from our classes for the hike. What hiking had to do with Humanities beat me, but I was glad to get out of Statistics. Plus it was extra hours Sam and I got to spend together.

Sam had a backpack filled with water bottles and our lunches so I didn't have to carry anything as we set out a few minutes after school started. It wasn't even eight in the morning, but it was unseasonably hot already. Of course we would hike on the first day the temperature rose above eighty five degrees. As we started walking, I realized that I hadn't considered my bad knee. It held up for volleyball most days, but walking a few miles on uneven ground might hurt it. Stupid. I should have thought of that before.

The hike was harder than I thought it was going to be, maybe because of the heat and the sun beating down on us, maybe because I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast. For whatever reason, I found that I was breathing heavy and my skin was cold and clammy.

Sam and I didn't really talk while we hiked the first two hours. He didn't mind, just offered me help over ruts and boulders in the middle of the trail and passed me water before I had the chance to ask, but I was starting to really feel terrible as we approached our break point.

Just as we arrived, I knew I was going to be sick. As everyone sat spread around in the small field, I ducked behind a tree and emptied my stomach.

Sam was there in an instant, hands on my back to steady me and pull my ponytail away from the vomit, murmuring to me. When my stomach was empty, I stumbled to the ground and laid down a few feet from my mess. "Ugh."

"Abigail," Sam said, kneeling down next to me.

"I feel terrible," I moaned.

"Did you eat today?"

I should have--I should have at least considered it before leaving the house. Reluctantly, I shook my head, then groaned as the movement made me dizzy.

Sam's protective nature kicked in full-blast. He pulled a bandana out of his backpack, poured water on it, and tied it around my head. Once I had sipped at a water bottle and he was slightly satisfied at my hydration level, he scooped me up in his arms. I was too weak to fight back.