inDIVISIBLE by Ryan Hunter Read Free Book Online

take care of her? I rolled to my back again, the anxious fluttering of my heartbeat returning. I didn’t have a choice that I could see. If I wanted out of here without dying, I had to do it now. T only had another twenty-four hours before he had to move on. Any longer and they’d track him down for sure.
                  It was time .
    I moaned loudly and tossed atop the hard mattress once again , feigning sickness. Kicking off the covers, I opened yesterday’s water bottle and splashed a bit of cool water on my face as I waited for my mother’s alarm to sound. I’d have to be quick and convincing when it actually went off as she always headed straight to the bathroom to get ready for work.
    I sat on the edge of my bed, stared at the dull display on my PCA and began counting down. At 6 a.m. her alarm beeped three times. I bolted out of my room before it hushed and slammed the bathroom door behind me. I turned the lock and knelt over the toilet before shoving my first two fingers into my throat.
    I gagged immediately. I pushed my fingers in again and choked, tears springing to my eyes.
    Her footsteps tapped across the concrete just outside the door, pausing in the hallway. She knocked on the door and I stuck my fingers in my throat a third time, vomiting what was left of my late supper.
    “Brynn?”
    I pushed away from the toilet and ran water in the sink, rinsing my mouth and face with water as cold as I could manage. “Yeah?”
    “Are you okay?”
    I blotted my face and opened the door. My mother’s graying hair frizzed around her face and the wrinkles she usually covered with makeup made her look old and vulnerable. What stopped me from speaking, however, was the genuine concern in her eyes. My mouth worked but I had to concentrate to make it speak. “Fine,” I said.
    Guilt bubbled its way in my chest and colored my cheeks. I pushed past her to hide in my room before I gave into the feeling and stayed. I couldn’t put her in danger. She’d already lost too much.
    She stopped me before I could return to my room and placed a hand on my forehead, sticky and clammy, she pulled her hand away almost immediately. “You’re not fine. You’re sick.”
    “I’ve got an exam today,” I countered. “It’s important. I’ve been studying for it all week.”
    She turned me toward my bedroom. “Go back to bed. Log your symptoms and wait for the doctor to call. You’re not going to school today.”
    “But finals are coming up,” I half-argued, speaking in a breezy tone to suggest exhaustion.
    “All you need to do today is rest, and maybe a little later, get some fresh air.” Her eyes caught mine and held them. Tears appeared in the corners of her eyes, and I worried she’d have another breakdown over my father. I couldn’t hear her sobs again. I was leaving her today and that was hard enough without the tears.
    “I think both will be good for me,” I said, throat tight. I wanted to explain so she wouldn’t worry. I wanted to tell her goodbye but I couldn’t.
    She pressed her lips together tightly and pulled me in for an embrace where she rocked me several minutes before she released me.
    When she let go, she sniffed and said, “School can wait, Brynn. Take care of yourself first.” Could she be that worried or had she already suspected I’d leave? I kissed her on the cheek, something I hadn’t done since I’d been tiny and shuffled through the garden back to my bedroom. Once inside, I crawled into bed and curled into a ball, with my face away from the glass—and waited.
    She didn’t come in to check on me before she left, but I felt her outside my doorway, stari ng through the glass while I lay unmoving, forcing my emotions deep inside where I could ignore their nagging. She stood there at least five minutes and when she left and I finally rolled over. It was then that I saw the handprint on the glass, the spot where she’d rested her forehead and on the ground outside, a teardrop.
    I