Triggered by Vicki Grant Read Free Book Online Page B

are in the kitchen, drinking beer and acting like idiots. I forgot Mom and Dad are out at a dinner party tonight. I’ll have to talk to them tomorrow about Jade. I say hey to the guys, then head up to my room. I had this brainwave about what magic sprinkles might be, and I want to check it out.
    I google childhood migraines again. Nausea, vomiting, pain, dizziness. That’s Gavin, all right. What I’m interested in, though, is the aura. That’s what they call this weird thing that happens to people’s eyesight right before the headache hits. Different people see different things. It could be bright lights, blobs, zigzag lines, starbursts, sparkles, a big black hole right in the middle of their vision, anything. It’s crazy stuff.
    I scroll down the page until I find the line I was trying to remember.
    Scintillating scotoma—a spot of flick ering light near or in the center of the visual field .
    That’s the medical name for it—but not what you’d call the aura if you were four. You’d probably call it something more like magic sprinkles .
    That almost makes me happy. At least something makes sense. I even like the way a little kid would turn it into something fancy. It’s not a scotoma that’s going to give you a killer headache. It’s magic sprinkles, like something you’d find in a fairy tale.
    I scan the page for more info. I notice the list of foods that can trigger a migraine. I wonder if it’s different from the one Jade posted on the kitchen cupboard. She might have missed something.
    I scroll down. Pepperoni. Chocolate. Red wine. MSG .
    MSG. It jumps right out at me. The initials are MS too.
    Yeah, okay. What an amazing coincidence. I keep reading. Caffeine, cheese, artificial sweeteners…but something is bugging me.
    I can’t remember what Jade said MSG was.
    I google it too. Oh, right. That stuff they put in Chinese food. There’s a picture. It comes in a spice bottle and looks sort of like salt.
    Or sprinkles.
    Magic sprinkles.
    I think of Gavin starting to cry in the grocery store. We were in the spice aisle. I remember that, because I’d looked around to see what might have set him off. All I’d noticed were bottles of cinnamon and boxes of kosher salt, so I’d figured it had to be something else.
    In the park, Gavin had said he got magic sprinkles before. Did he mean he saw them before—or that someone gave them to him before?
    I feel almost as if I’m having an aura myself. The words are kind of floating around on the screen. What I’m thinking doesn’t make sense. Jade loves Gavin. She’d do anything for him. She’d never hurt him.
    Why don’t I believe that anymore?

Mick
    Chapter Twenty
    I stand outside Jade’s apartment building. It’s almost midnight. I know it’s too late to be here. I key in the security code and open the door to the lobby.
    It would be better to talk to her about this tomorrow, when we’re both rested and can talk reasonably.
    But we’re never going to be able to speak reasonably about this. I’ve got to do it now. I push the elevator button. By tomorrow, she may have done it again.
    Done what? I don’t even know exactly.
    I stare at the numbers above the elevator doors. They’re not moving. It’s broken again.
    I should go home. I never would have thought anything like this if Quinn hadn’t planted the idea in my brain. Can I really picture Jade poisoning her little brother?
    I take the stairs two at a time.
    There’s light coming out from under the apartment door. Someone’s awake.
    I knock.
    â€œJade.” I say it not much louder than a whisper—I don’t want to wake the neighbors—but I know she heard me.
    â€œJade,” I say again. “I need to talk to you about something.” It hits me that those are the exact words I used to break up with her.
    She opens the door a tiny bit and whispers back at