Chapter 6: Chapter 6

My stomach churns, making me snivel. I haven't had any sleep since 3am. All I've done is roll around. I'm startled by my door bursting open.

Geez, which is worse; my stomach pain or the fact that my freaking door isn't doing its job?

"Nes! Barge back out of my room this minute," I yell, turning to lie faceup.

"Actually, it's me Alex," comes the reply.

I raise my head to glare at him, "don't you knock?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Get out," I deadpan.

"Why aren't you dressed for Church?"

"Cause I'm not well. Now get out."

"Fine, I'll go tell mum," he says, walking out and leaving the door open.

"Lock the door, log head!" I call out, only to realise he's gone.

Shortly after, I hear his voice telling mum about me.

"What's wrong with her?" I hear her ask.

"I think she said she has a twisted neck and broken ribs. You'd be shocked at the sight of her!" Jesus!

"That is never going to happen to my daughter! And the next time you say that, I'll beat you blue and black," mum scolds. I'm very sure he's laughing his decoration of a head off right now.

"Lex! You Neanderthal!" I yell at the top of my lungs, gripping my tummy to ease the persistent pain.

"Bella, language!" mum yells back.

"Sorry, not sorry," I say lowly. She walks into the room and comes over to feel my forehead.

"How do you feel?" she asks.

"TERRIBLE!" I cry. She gives me a puzzled frown.

"Sorry," she says, soothingly but it only worsens my situation.

"DON'T SAY THAT!" I yowl.

"Wha- okay, sorry…" she stutters and I frown in irritation, "…geez. Sorr- oh, gosh." she gives up. On a normal day, I would laugh but THIS IS NOT A NORMAL DAY!

"My stomach hurts," I whine, putting on a baby face.

"Honey, is it your time of the month?"

"I was talking about my tummy. OWW!" I caterwaul.

"I'm aware of that. I'm also aware of the fact that you execrate the word sorry whenever you’re on your period," she enunciates. My eyes widen and she nods. That's why I've been so cranky.

"Plus, you're being a double big baby." She chuckles and I frown rushing off the bed towards the bathroom to shower.

"So, how much ice cream did you have yesterday?" she demands once I'm done cleaning up.

"Just a few scoops," I reply, pouting.

"And by 'just a few' you mean a lot?" Gee, she caught me.

"Yeah?" I admit, hoping she won't get mad.

"You know you get sick whenever you eat so much ice cream yet you do it. I'll get you some medicine and then we'll see how it goes," she states, getting up from the bed.

But ice cream's just so nice!

"So, you're not mad?" I ask, a little puzzled at her calm demeanour.

"No, of course not," she replies, making me heave a relieved sigh. "I'm super upset," she deadpans. I throw my quilt over my head to avoid looking at her.

A few seconds later, I peek out from underneath and she's no longer there. I pick up my phone to check my social media notifications. I have a whole lot of messages. Why? Because I muted my notifications a week ago. Why again? Because I don’t know.

I open a group chat named 'Last Lap' which was created for the students of SS3, just to see eight hundred and fifty-two unread chats. Meh, I'm used to it.

Scrolling through, a message draws my attention. It's from the drama club president. Oh, hail the almighty. I chuckle at my sarcasm.

Ousman:

Everyone. The date for the play has been finalized. Rehearsals start tomorrow after school hours. We've been given one hour to rehearse. No questions now. Reserve for tomorrow.

Strictly planned messages. I let out a scoff. "Harshie." Or so I heard. Ousman is my classmate and the president of drama club. He has a reputation of being strict and straightforward… and handsome. I learned he is also friends with Jasper but I rarely see them together. How can those personalities even blend? Strict and lousy. Anyway, I am supposedly a member of drama club so I have to be there.

"Here." I look up to see mum walking in, alongside dad.

"Thanks," I say, scrunching my nose in disgust as I collect the pills.

"Don't give me that look," she says sternly.

"Morning dad," I greet with a forced smile as I avert my gaze from her.

"Morning dear. And no need to force the smile, I know you feel like crying and it's okay," dad assuages, coming to sit beside me. He's so right. I can be a big baby whenever I'm sick. Especially when I have to take drugs. I loathe them!

"Take the pills already!" mum urges, sensing that I'm stalling.

"But I don't want to!" I wail. "It's not that serious. I'll be fine."

"Nope, you have to take―really, stop giving me that look. I didn't feed the ice cream to you," she chides.

I hurriedly down the pills and shut my eyes tightly at the bitter taste.

"Arabella," dad sends mum a cautioning look and she rolls her eyes.

Someone laughs from the doorway. Nes. Don't get me wrong, Nes is sweet and I love her, but she can be a nightmare sometimes.

"Is it bitter?" she asks, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. I scowl but wince from the pain in my tummy.

"Go away. I still haven't forgiven you for what you did yesterday," I yell at her but her grin only widens as she remains unfazed by my words.

"Oh, I know it's the hormones talking," she giggles and I gasp.

Before she can say another word, a pillow hits her squarely in the face.

"Take that!" I shout triumphantly when I see her expression. Dad laughs.

"I just made up! Your attempt to smudge my lipstick won't work. So, ha! Joke's on you," she jibes.

"Okay, Agnes, go wait in the car," dad instructs and she begrudgingly leaves the room. I know all she wants is to mock me till I start to see her in my dreams.

"What's the time?" I ask.

"7:39," dad replies, looking at his watch.

"Look, you guys should head to Church. I'm sure I'll be fine before you get back," I assure, shifting to find a more comfortable position.

Without acknowledging my words, dad turns to mum, "honey, I'll see you when we get back." He kisses her.

"Okay," she replies, kissing him back.

"Gee, get a room parents," I goad, tilting my head upwards to show disinterest.

Mum laughs briefly, placing a palm on dad's chest. "Jealous much?" Dad chuckles.

"What? No. I'll get my own husband soon," I retort with a smirk which fades as quickly as it came. Did I just say 'soon'?

Dad walks over to me and kisses my forehead saying, "you know, with such a mouth, no one would believe you are sick." Whew. No questions about 'soon'.

As if on cue, my stomach churns. "Ow," I moan, causing him to chuckle.

"Good luck babysitting that largemouth sitting on the bed. Try not to get Bella's mouth sickness," he advises mum before leaving the room. My jaw drops. He just called me a mouth!

"Dad!" I call out in a disgruntled tone but he is gone. Why is everyone escaping my tongue lashing this morning?

And I thought the Bella's mouth sickness thing died in Texas? Back in Texas, whenever anyone got tired of me sick-talking too much, they would say that person was suffering from Bella's mouth sickness. They called it BMS. Gee, my family is weird.

Mum lets out a sigh as she turns towards me.

"Mum, you―" I begin but she doesn't let me land.

"Don't tell me to go to Church or else I'll get you two loaves of bread," she threatens, pointing at me.

"Gosh, no," I plead with a contorted expression. Now, I really feel like crying.

Just the aroma of bread on a day like this makes me want to throw up.

A pleased smile spreads across her face. "Good. Now, shut up and rest."

She has managed to stop me from verbally chasing her to Church.

She flops down on my study chair, perusing the stuff I put there. My phone beeps a few times and I pick it up.

"Someone has unmuted her social media notifications," she comments, whirling around to face me on the rotatable chair.

"Well, she's trying not to be a social pariah," I reply, going through the messages, brows furrowed in concentration.

Mum scoffs in scepticism. "You? Social pariah? Who are you and what have you done to my daughter?" she asks in mock alarm. I chortle at her acting skills.

"Remind me why you are a therapist again?" I tease. She rolls her eyes at my insinuation.

"Same reason your father is a business man. Social media does not determine your status in life," she reverts to the original topic.

"Yes, madam," I give her a formal response. Mild surprise spreads over her face, making her look a lot like her sister, Erica.

"Why the formality, miss?"

"Because you sounded like you were counselling a client in the office," I answer with a shrug. A comfortable silence envelops us as I continue to scroll through my phone.

"How can people detest sleep so much?" I suddenly ask jokingly.

"What is that?" mum asks, looking up from the book she is holding.

"They chat till 3am. I won't, for any reason give up my beauty sleep," I state, wincing at the burgeoning pain in my tummy, then relaxing as it subsides immediately.

"Okay?"

I turn to look at her, careful so I won't upset my stomach. "What was that?"

"Nothing. Besides, I think you've run your mouth too much for a sick person, don't you?"

"No, I've no―ow!" I yowl, gripping my tummy as the pain intensifies. Why me?

I throw my phone on the bed in frustration and shift from side to side in a bid to ease the pain but it is persistent.

"Give yourself a break," she says, picking up a book from my study desk and handing it to me.

"You want me to read?" I manage to say.

"Yeah, Purple Hibiscus is a pretty nice book," she replies in a coaxing way, giving the book a weird look. She obviously has no idea what it contains.

"No, it's not!" I exclaim.

A puzzled expression settles on her face. "Why not? The author was commended for this book, you know?"

"It's an annoying book. She's just good at annoying people, so she was awarded." Deep down, I know I owe Chimamanda an apology for unnecessarily criticizing her book. Not that I know her. Plus, mum can’t know she’s right about the book being good. Although, I think she sees through my lie already.

"What? You mean Chimanada is good at annoying people?"

I let out a snort but pangs shoot through me, reminding me of my plight.

Ice cream. If only I could make up my mind to reject you from now onwards; if only.

"What's funny?"

"It's Chimamanda. Just. Give. Me. The. Book," I choke, finally stretching my hand to take it. I know I’m a drama queen; no need to ponder on it. She hands it to me, looking somewhat disappointed.

Probably because of the comment I made about the book or the fact that she can't pronounce Nigerian names as much as I can. Nevertheless, I decide I'm tired of bickering and start reading.

***

"Bella!"

My eyes flutter open as I'm shoved slightly but closes again. I'm confused if I'm still dreaming or not. Everything is so fuzzy.

"Bella, Bella," the voice continues. Oh, it's real. And it's my stalker. But why is she saying bent, bent?

"Beellaa," Nes drawls close to my face, her breath minty. My eyes finally open and everything is clear. I realize she was actually saying Bella.

I murmur groggily, rubbing my eye. "Hmm?"

"We're home," she states, plastering an annoying smile on her face.

Her words alert my senses immediately and I shift to get a good look at her. "So?" I ask, my voice dripping with blandness. I can't believe she woke me up just to tell me she’s back. I really envy single children.

Mild pain suddenly shoots through my lower abdomen and I climb down from the bed to go and empty my bladder.

"I can't believe you yanked me out of my beauty sleep just to tell me, you're home." I say flatly.

She scoffs at my words and lands on my bed, face up. All her makeup from earlier is gone. She always cleans her face whenever she gets back from anywhere. According to her, leaving it on feels like wearing a heavy backpack at home. Where she got the ridiculous idea from, I don't know.

"Well FYI, if I hadn't, your bed would be wet by now," she jives, leaving me stupefied.

"I deserve to be an only child." I lament, folding my arms.

"Uh-huh," she replies, absent-minded as she gazes at the ceiling.

Nonplussed by the distant look in her eyes, I formulate, "don't tell me your new found business idea is dealing in ceilings."

A pair of honey brown eyes land on me, a brow arched. Somehow, Nes' eyes are a lighter shade of brown than the rest of us. Only God knows where she got them. Only God knows where Nes gets anything.

"We've been sisters for a lifetime now and you can't tell when I'm lost in thought," she repines and my eyes narrow in shame. Of course, that's why she woke me up. A boy has to be involved in this.

I plop down on my pink beanbag but grip my tummy as mild pangs course through, reminding me that I'm not completely fine.

"So, is there a new boy in town?" I inquire, cocking my head to get a better view of her face but her lying posture prevents me from seeing it.

She scoffs, lifts a palm and wags her index in repudiation.

The confidence in my voice ebbs as I ask, "Really? What is it about, then?"

"A girl…and a boy." That's a relief.

My curiosity is piqued, however.

"What happened?" Did he ask her out or something? Maybe she said no.

"I got into a fight."

I am taken aback by her utterance. I ransack my brain for the right words but come out blank. She's talking about her anger issues? With me? Oh my God, this is frightening.

Not that I'm not happy she is willing to share it with me. It's just that no matter how close we have been, she doesn't talk to me about her temper. Heck, she mostly gets upset at me if I intervene. But today?

"A fight?" I ask; the question, a ploy to stall and cook up some soothing words that won't lead to a fight.

She sighs. That's my answer. A tired sigh.

"W-what happened?" I sputter, unsure whether it's the right thing to say at the moment. But I need to know what happened to know what to say.

"After the Mass, dad had a meeting. I met Fletcher and we started to talk. You remember Fletcher, right?"

Fletcher? Who on earth is Fletch- oh, yeah. "Yeah, I remember him. The boy you are crushing on, right?"

"We were talking when this bitch comes out of nowhere and pushes me aside with that piece of dry flesh she calls hip," she rambles on, ignoring my question.

It's clear from her tone and choice of words that even talking about this dry-fleshed girl, she gets upset. "I really tried to calm myself down but the idio-"

"Nes. You need to calm down and explain without cuss words," I advise, the older sister part of me beginning to surface.

She lifts her head to glare at me but seeing my unwavering expression, she gives up, hitting her head back on the bed.

"The girl had the nerves to insult me right there and I lost it. The next thing I knew, her fake hair was on the ground and I was being dragged from there. I couldn't even make out what I was saying but I knew I needed to stop," she pauses, her breathing slightly ragged. Taking in two deep breathes, she says the next words slowly, "I couldn't stop." And that's where she breaks.

She quickly curls up into a ball and sobs bitterly. I rush to her side, ignoring the pain caused by the sudden movement. My chest tightens at the sight of her shaking shoulders. Why did she have to fall that day? Geez, I'm not even sure that's the cause of the problem. I hug her tightly, soothing words flooding out of my mouth.

"I'm sure he's never going to talk to me again," she laments amidst sobs.

"Well, his loss. If he's a good guy, he'll be concerned not repulsed," I state firmly.

The door opens, gaining my attention. Jason is standing there, a little stunned. He glances from Nes to me and I nod my head, ushering him in.

He walks in, his face etched with concern. Alex follows behind, trying his best to look calm when in fact, he's panicking. None of us knows how to handle things when Nes is angry and due to the fact that she usually only entertains mum's presence, the rest of us just stay afar.

Jason walks to the other side of the bed and sits on it, leaning in on Nes' sobbing body. Alex sits on my side, patting her head nervously.

She seems to have felt the change in the number of hands touching her as she raises her head slowly. As soon as she sees her brothers, a contented smile spreads across her face. She chuckles at the horrified look on Alex's face. He is doing the worst job of hiding his panic here.

"You look like you survived a major apocalypse," she says, causing a wave of relief to wash over everyone. The colour returns to Lex's face as he laughs at her comment.

"I'm hungry," she whines, pouting. "And you guys look really yummy right now."

"Cannibal," Jason states, getting up from the bed and heading towards the door. He pokes my head as he passes by.

I try to grab him but he swiftly dodges and hurries to the door. He always runs away from lengthy conversations unless it's serious.

Nes suddenly slaps Lex's hand and stands up. "You're so dead!"

"Geez. Whoever said the loch ness monster is a myth is a liar!" He grumbles, rising from the bed and running for the door. Nes follows, yelling gibberish.

My phone beeps and I pick it up.

Luke:

Hey, guess what? I'm in town again.