When Kylie Johnson's temperamental, ominous, and overprotective older brother continuously ruins her love life, she decides to permanently eliminate the word 'love' from her vocabulary.
But when her ex, Julian Davis, returns to her life with a treme...
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"Are you sure you'll be okay, baby?" Mom asks for the third time.
I take a bite of my donut and roll my eyes. "Yes. I'm okay, mom."
"You don't look okay," she says, placing her hand on my forehead. "And you have a fever."
"Since when are you a doctor?" I mutter, sipping on some milk after coughing.
"Attitude," she warns, narrowing her eyes at me as she grabs her handbag from a barstool.
"I don't think you should go to school today," she continues, walking back towards me.
"But I'm fine," I groan, followingly coughing. I get up from the barstool and suddenly, my stomach churns as I feel nauseated.
I cover my mouth with the palm of my hand and run to the sink.
All the contents inside my stomach begin to exit and after a few seconds, I feel mom's hands pull my hair from off my back.
"You were saying?" Mom asks, giving me a sharp look.
I sigh, turning the tap on as I wipe the corners of my mouth.
I can't skip school. I have swim practice and coach will get mad at me if I don't join them today.
"You're staying home," she demands, letting go of my hair. She walks towards the intercom and presses on a button. "Suzanne, come to the kitchen please."
"I don't need anyone to babysit me," I mutter, washing my hands.
"I hate this cranky side of you," mom complains, pulling open the medicine cabinet door.
"Yes, Mrs. Johnson?" I hear Suzanne ask after entering the kitchen.
"Kylie is skipping school today. I need to go to work soon so make sure she takes her meds?"
"Will do, ma'am," Suzanne replies as she wipes her hands on her apron.
"You don't think I can take the meds by myself?" I mumble, placing my hands on the counter behind me for support.
Mom lets out an angry sigh. "And make sure she gets enough sleep as well because I'm hating this grouchiness."
Suzanne lets out a rusty laugh and then fills a glass with water for me.
Mom plants a kiss on my forehead, in which I fight hard not to shrink away, and then holds my face in her hands. "Call me if it gets worse."
I give her a short nod and draw back from her grip. "Bye, mom."
"Take good care of my baby," she pleads before walking away with the sound of her heels clicking on the floor.
I take a couple of pills and push them down with water while Suzanne sets the kettle to boil.
