Fat Cat by Robin Brande Read Free Book Online

2, Friday, August 22
OH.
MY.
EXPLODING.
HEAD.
    When I woke up this morning, I thought maybe I had died. Or maybe I just wished I had died. Because the pain was like nothing I've ever felt.
    It started at the base of my neck, and then swept forward and crushed my entire skull like someone had parked a car on top of my face, and then swirled down through my stomach so I felt like maybe I'd like to vomit if only heaving like that wouldn't make my head hurt even worse.
    Couldn't eat a thing for breakfast. Part of me felt like I was starving, but the thought of food made me sick.
    As did the light coming in through the windows. And the sound of my feet hitting the carpeting. And my parents' and little brother's shrill voices--I'm sure they were just talking normally, but to my oversensitive nervous system, it felt like they were screaming.
    I knew it would take me even longer to walk to school in that condition, so I just started out and got it over with. An hour and a half later, I shuffled into the loud, bright, overstimulating zoo that is my high school and commenced suffering on a whole new level.
    I kept my eyes squinted for most of the day. In part to keep the light down to a minimum, and in part because somehow it seemed to protect me from the noise.
    With block scheduling, on Fridays we have every one of our classes, but for a shorter time. Which means not only did I have to start the day with American History--which, I realized, wasn't so bad since Mr. Zombie's monotone can actually be kind of soothing--but I also had to go to Piano, and even though they're all electric and we listen through headphones and I had mine on mute, I could still hear everyone else pounding their keys. It was like listening to an army tap-dance on top of a quilt.
    The only bright spot of the day was having lunch with Amanda and Jordan. My stomach was still too iffy for me to risk eating anything, but Amanda made me at least sip some water.
    "Here," she whispered, looking around warily before she slipped something into my hand. "Ibu."
    I understood why she was being so secretive. Even giving someone ibuprofen can constitute a violation of our school's anti-drug policy.
    "Can't," I said, giving them back.
    "Why?"
    "Homo erectus didn't have it."
    "You did not just say that."
    "I'll be okay," I said, hoping to convince us both.
    "You're not okay. You look like even your hair hurts." Amanda put the pills back in my hand. "Take them."
    I shook my head and immediately wished I hadn't. "Owwww ..."
    Jordan whispered something to Amanda, she whispered back, and the next thing I knew there were two massive hands gripping the back of my neck and pushing deep into where the pain was. I nearly screamed with relief.
    I closed my eyes while Jordan gave me one of the harshest, meanest, most necessary neck massages I've ever had. His thumbs felt strong enough to push straight through a wall. He dug them into the base of my skull and down the tight, throbbing nerves of my neck, finishing with the knots on top of my shoulders.
    It was better than chocolate, better than Cheetos, better than anything I could ever imagine. I didn't want him to stop.
    At one point Amanda had to warn me to be a little quieter. "You're moaning. People are looking."
    But when you're in the midst of bliss like that, who cares what anyone thinks?
    Lunch was over far too soon. The minute Jordan took his thumbs away, the pain came rushing back in. But at least I knew where to push from then on.
    "I think I love him," I whispered to Amanda.
    "Der."
    All was going as well as it could, under the circumstances--which means terribly--until I got to Mr. Fizer's class. I was sitting atmy lab table, eyes closed, kneading the back of my neck, when suddenly I heard his voice.
    "What happened?"
    I squinted up at him. "Nothing happened."
    "Why do you look like they just pulled you out of the morgue?"
    "Oh, thank you, Matt," I said with fake sweetness. "You always know just what to say."
    "'S'what I'm