Blood and Water (Sample)

Chapter 3: The List

"I am," Melanie said. "Just found out this week."

Maia stood there, blinking, as though she didn't understand. Panic registered in the back of Jay's mind. Melanie was dying. He mentally shook himself—no, she wasn't dying. She wasn't even sick. She was just doing everything she could to protect his sister from finding out what was happening to him.

But Maia didn't know that.

Jay expected his sister to burst into tears. He pictured her face crumpling and her shoulders shaking with sobs. None of those things happened. Maia went over to the pantry, took out the bag of flour, and poured it on the vomit. She dropped the empty bag in the trashcan.

"I'm going back to bed," she said. "Maia," Melanie said, "do you—" "Going back to sleep."

Melanie started after her, but Jay caught her wrist. "Let her go." Once Maia was gone, the two of them settled back in their seats. Jay tapped his fingers on the table. He wasn't sure whether to thank Melanie. In one way, she'd saved him. In another, she'd made things worse. Now, Maia thought her friend was dying. How would she react once she learned that Jay was sick?

"I didn't know what else to do," Melanie said. "I know," Jay said. "It's cool."

He got up from the table and got the broom from the closet. Although his movements were shaky, he swept the flour into a pile. Melanie grabbed the dustpan and knelt down in front of Jay.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Helping," she said.

"With Maia or the flour?" "Yes. I said I'm helping."

No matter what happened, Melanie was on his side. Loyal, that one. To a fault. It would be her undoing. Guilt twisted his gut. She deserved his gratitude, nothing else. Despite how he felt about her methods, she had kept his secret so far—more than most people would do for him.

"Sorry if I don't sound thankful." He swept the pile of flour into the dustpan. Swirls of white flew up in the air.

She wiped a smear of flour from her cheek. "It's all right, Jaybird. I know you."

"I should thank you more often."

Melanie's face flushed. The reaction startled Jay. Had he said something wrong? He ran through the words in his head, trying to figure out what had happened. But when he looked back at Melanie, he saw she was smiling. Maybe what he said had been the furthest thing from wrong.

"Thank you," she said.

Jay picked up the dustpan and the broom and carried them over to the trashcan. He dumped the flour and set the broom and dustpan in the closet. The faint scent of vomit still hung in the air. Jay was surprised he'd noticed since he'd grown accustomed to it. He grabbed the mop and bucket from the closet and went over to the sink.

Melanie stood in front of him. "Don't worry about it. You're not feeling well."

"I'm never feeling well."

"Put the mop down."

Jay sighed. He handed the mop and bucket to Melanie.

She leaned them against the counter. "If it's the smell you're worried about, it doesn't bother me. I had some training to be a nurse, remember? I've dealt with worse."

Still, his cheeks heated. "Every time you come over, I throw up or faint. It's getting ridiculous."

Melanie shrugged. "It's worth it if I get to see you." Jay crossed his arms. "What if you get sick?"

"I won't."

"You don't know that." "I haven't caught it yet."

"So what?" he asked. "It can strike without warning. Look what happened to me."