And then Macy whispers, “I can’t believe you got invited to do mani-pedis with Lia Tanaka. After being invited to her room.”

She doesn’t sound jealous, just confused. Like it’s the strangest thing in the world for Lia and me to have something in common. “It wasn’t hard. She seems really nice.”

“‘Nice’ isn’t the adjective I would normally use to describe her,” Macy answers as we start down the hall. “She’s the most popular girl in school and normally takes great pains to remind people of that. Although lately, she’s been really reclusive.”

“Yeah, well, after losing her boyfriend, I figure she’s entitled.”

Macy’s eyes go huge. “She told you about that?”

“Yeah.” A sickening thought occurs to me. “Is it a secret?”

“No. It’s just… I’ve heard she doesn’t talk about Hudson.” Her voice is off when she says it, and suddenly she’s looking anywhere but at me. I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s uncomfortable and not because the thousand-year-old tapestry she’s currently looking at and has probably seen a million times is more interesting than our conversation. I just wish I knew why.

“That’s not that surprising, is it?” I answer. “And she didn’t really talk about him to me. Just told me that he died.”

“Yeah. Almost a year ago. It kind of rattled the school.” She’s still not looking at me, which is growing weirder by the second.

“Was he a student here?”

“He was, but he graduated the year before he died. Still, it really freaked a lot of us out.”

“I bet.” I want to ask what happened, but she’s so uncomfortable that it seems rude, so I let it go.

We walk in silence for a couple of minutes, giving the subject time to dissipate. Once it does, Macy bounces back to her normal self and asks, “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat anything at the party.”

I start to say yes—I haven’t eaten since the bowl of Frosted Flakes Macy poured me this morning from her stash—but the altitude sickness must be back, because the mention of food has my stomach rumbling, and not in a good way. “You know, I think I’m just going to go to bed. I’m not feeling so great.”

For the first time, Macy looks worried. “If you aren’t feeling better in the morning, I think we’d better stop by the nurse. You’ve been here more than twenty-four hours now. You should be starting to get used to the altitude.”

“When I googled it, it said twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If I’m not better after tomorrow’s classes, I’ll go. Okay?”

“If you’re not better after tomorrow’s classes, I’m pretty sure my dad will drag you there himself. He’s been frantic about you since you asked him to leave you in San Diego to finish up your quarter.”

Another awkward silence starts to descend, and honestly, I just can’t take it right now. So it’s my turn to change the subject when I say, “I can’t believe how tired I am. What time is it anyway?”

Macy laughs. “It’s eight o’clock, party animal.”

“I’ll party next week. After I finally get some sleep…and after this gross altitude sickness goes away.” I put a hand to my stomach as the nausea from earlier returns with a vengeance.

“I’m such a jerk.” Macy rolls her eyes at herself. “Planning a party on your first couple of days here was a bad move on my part. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not a jerk. You were just trying to help me meet people.”

“I was trying to show off my fabulous older cousin—”

“I’m older by, like, a year.”

“Older is older, isn’t it?” She grins at me. “Anyway, I was trying to show you off and help you get acclimated. I didn’t think about the fact that you might need a day or two to just breathe.”

We make it to our room, and Macy unlocks the door with a flourish. Just in time, too, because my stomach revolts about two seconds after I walk in the door. I barely make it to the bathroom before I throw up a noxious combination of tea and Dr Pepper.

Looks like Alaska really is trying to kill me after all.

   14

Knock,

Knock, Knocking

on Death’s Door

I spend the next fifteen minutes trying to throw up the inside of my stomach and hoping that if this godforsaken place is trying to kill me, it just gets it over with already.

When the nausea finally stops about half an hour later, I’m exhausted and the headache is back in full force.

“Should I get the nurse?” Macy asks, walking behind me, arms outstretched to catch me as I make my way to the bed. “I think I should get the nurse.”

I groan as I climb under my cool sheets. “Let’s give it a little while longer.”

“I don’t think—”

“Older-cousin prerogative.” I shoot her a grin I’m far from feeling and snuggle onto my pillow. “If I’m not better in the morning, we’ll call the nurse.”

“Are you sure?” Macy dances from foot to foot as though unsure what to do.

“Considering I’ve had more than enough attention since I got to this school? Yes. Definitely.”

She doesn’t look happy by my refusal, but eventually she nods.

I drift in and out of sleep as my cousin washes her face and changes into her pajamas. But right around the time she turns off the light and crawls into bed, another wave of nausea rolls over me. I ride it out, trying to ignore how much I wish my mom were here to baby me a little, and eventually fall into a fitful sleep, one I don’t wake from until an alarm blares at six thirty the next morning. It goes off just as abruptly as someone hits Snooze.

I wake up disoriented, trying to remember where I am and whose godawful alarm was beeping in my ear. Then it all comes flooding back. After one additional trip to the bathroom around three to dry heave my guts up, the nausea receded, which was a giant plus. And everything else feels okay now—my head has stopped spinning, and while my throat feels dry, it doesn’t hurt, either.

Huh. Looks like the internet was right about the whole twenty-four to forty-eight hours to acclimate thing. I’m good as new.

At least until I sit up and realize the rest of my body is another story. Nearly every muscle I have aches like I’ve just climbed Denali—after running a marathon. I’m pretty sure it’s just dehydration combined with how tense I was yesterday, but either way, I’m in no mood to get up. I’m certainly in no mood to put on a happy face for my first day of classes.