Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Shiloh
In my haste to get to a toilet before I threw up, I ran into the guy’s restroom gagging as I passed the row of urinals.
I turned into the stall and vomited into the toilet.
I shuddered, my eyes burning with the involuntary tears.
I cringed as I sat back on my heels to grab some toilet paper to wipe the puke that had gotten into my hair.
“Fucking hell,” I whispered as I tossed the tissue into the toilet and stood to flush it.
Black dots floated and popped in my vision, and I gripped the toilet paper holder to steady myself.
I took a shaky breath trying to settle my stomach that was starting to heave again.
I leaned over the toilet, this time holding my hair with one hand, the toilet with the other.
I heard the door open as I spat the bitter taste from my mouth, praying this person chose not to use one of the urinals because I didn’t want to see anyone’s dick.
“Oh fuck,” a heard a boy exclaim behind me. “Wait, this is the guy’s bathroom. What the hell—”
He didn’t have time to finish before I was dry heaving over the toilet again.
He said something, but I couldn’t hear him over the sound of my pulse drumming in my ears.
The door opened, letting the sound of rowdy teenagers filter in, and I sat back on my ass, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.
“Fuck,” I spat, cursing my goddamn allergy. I blinked a few times, but everything was hazy, and I put my head down between my legs. The bell rang and the door opened again. Someone entered, calling out to the only logical person, me.
“Hey, are you okay? Someone said there was a girl—Oh, shit.”
I looked up to the blurry figure and flipped them off.
“I was gonna ask if you needed me to get the nurse, but fine. Be a bitch. Can you, like, leave because I gotta piss?”
“I’m pretty attached to this toilet at the moment. But be my guest, I’ll just be here, puking.”
He mumbled something under his breath and walked out.
Pissface.
I took some more deep breaths when the door opened, once again.
I was about to tell them to leave when my stomach flipped, and I continued vomiting.
I was startled when I felt someone’s hand brush mine and hold my hair back for me.
I spat when I was done and quickly turned to see who the fuck was touching me.
It was a blurry blob, but it looked too familiar.
“Migraine?”
Enoch.
I let out a breath of relief, trying to relax my tense body.
“No, maybe something I ate,” I explained, spitting again into the toilet before reaching up and flushing it. “Hit me out of nowhere.”
Enoch released my hair, standing up from his crouch position behind me and offered his hand.
“You might not wanna touch my hands, they’ve been on this disgusting as fuck toilet and bathroom floor,” I said.
Enoch chuckled and shook his head at me, grabbing my hands regardless and pulling me to my feet.
He pushed me towards the sink where he told me to wash my hands.
I realized that he was retrieving my backpack from the floor while I did what he said.
I took a moment to rinse my mouth, the chunk of hair that had gotten vomit on it, and splashed some cold water on my eyes as well.
“If you’re gonna be sick again, aim for the floor or a trashcan,” he said, handing me a stack of paper towels.
I nodded, drying my hands and face.
Enoch’s hand was on the small of my back as he led me out of the bathroom, the bell signaling that the next period had begun.
“The last guy to enter the bathroom was gonna offer to take me to the nurse’s office but said I was a bitch to him and left,” I chuckled dryly. “To be fair, I did flip him off.”
“Well, lucky for you I’m used to your ruthless exterior and would’ve helped you regardless,” Enoch said, adjusting both backpacks on his shoulder.
“How did you know I was in there anyways?” I asked after taking another cleansing breath to try and keep the nausea at bay.
“I actually didn’t. I guess you’re lucky my bladder chose right then to need the bathroom,” he chuckled softly.
I nodded in agreement because any time with Enoch was better than being alone. Even if it meant puking my guts out.
“Maybe it’s the stomach flu,” Enoch suddenly said as we turned the corner almost to the nurse’s office. “A couple kids in my history class were out with it yesterday.”
“I guess it is that time of year,” I shrugged, considering that as a reasonable conclusion.
“How are your eyes?”
“I’ll live,” I dismissed with a flick of my wrist. “I can still kind of see.”
“Good,” he said with a teasing lilt, “you can’t die on me yet. I haven’t even had the chance to ask you on a proper date.”
I chuckled softly, although my chest ached with the guilt of leaving him soon. Will we even go on a date before I have to end things? Enoch held the door of the nurse’s office open for me, and I stepped inside.
There was a kid in a gym uniform holding an ice pack to his elbow, and Enoch urged me to step towards the nurse’s desk. I guess she had called us over.
The nurse sighed. “I told Mr. Brenwick that he needs to call me from the classroom if a student gets a chemical in their eyes.”
“No, no. It’s a stomach bug or something,” I shrugged. “Just puked my guts out. My eyes are fine, just a by-product of my tears. I could use some ice for them though.”
She stared at me for a moment, a usual reaction when someone witnessed my allergic reaction.
“Okay then. Do you want me to call your parents to pick you up?” She asked kindly.
“I don’t think my dad will answer,” I said.
“Oh, if he’s at work we can call any of the emergency contacts in your student file,” she suggested, clicking on her computer screen. “Let’s see, student number?”
I groaned, my stomach cramping and managed to riddle out my student number to her.
“Well, let’s try Dad and if he doesn’t answer we’ve got…oh, your brother.”
“He’s dead.” I muttered, clenching my hand over my stomach that was buzzing with nausea. I think the nurse might have thought I was being sarcastic, but Enoch nodded his head in confirmation. The other student coughed awkwardly.
“I can’t just leave?”
“Sorry, no. You’re our responsibility until school ends. It’s school policy. Even the 18-year-olds can’t sign themselves out,” she explained.
I took another deep breath, the feeling of nausea becoming unbearable. “Fuck,” I growled to myself mostly, before spewing into the trashcan on the side of her desk.
There wasn’t anything but bile left in my stomach, and it burned my throat, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth when I was finished.
I relaxed my shoulders as Enoch held my hair and rubbed circles on my back.
I sat back on my butt, leaning my head against the desk as I wiped the involuntary tears from my eyes.
“This fucking sucks,” I pouted.
“So, no one else can pick her up?” Enoch asked, pleadingly.
“I mean, unless it’s in an ambulance or police car, she’s the school’s responsibility. She can stay here until the end of the day, or until a parent can pick her up,” the nurse said.
“You said police, right?”
If I had the energy, I would’ve slapped some sense into Enoch for trying to get me arrested.
“Well yes, but I can’t just call the police to escort her home,” she said.
Enoch stood from his crouched position and pulled out his phone from his pocket. I was about to protest but he told me to trust him. I shook my head and returned to focusing on not vomiting again.
“Hey, can you pick up Shiloh? No, I’ll just text you…okay, bye.”
After several moments of silence, Enoch kneeled beside me and squeezed my hand.
“Officer Reznikovsky is coming to pick you up,” he said like it was some kind of scheme. “He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”
I raised my brows, looking up at him despite my burning eyes, “The fuck are you talking about?”
He came close enough so that he could whisper into my ear.
“My dad.”
I shook my head because as far as I knew his dad didn’t actually work at the police station.
“But I thought your dad wasn’t like a real cop. I mean he’s like a teacher or something at the cop school, right?”
“Yeah,” he said drawled. “But he’s still got a badge and it’s enough to get you home.”
I heard the nurse offer to bring a soda from the teacher’s lounge after handing me an icepack for my face, and Enoch replied for me with a grateful yes. The kid on the nurse’s bed with the elbow injury awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up.
“Did you want to lie down?”
I shook my head, my lip curling at the thought of having to move at all. How was I supposed to ride in a car with his dad without projectile vomiting either the truth or the bile left in my stomach?
The thought made me sweat with nerves, and I prayed that the tile floor would just swallow me up before he arrived.
Unfortunately, Dan showed up before I died, so I had to force my body to cooperate as he helped me out to his car. Dan began to drive out of the parking lot, giving me a small smile as he looked in my direction before pulling out into the road.
“Do you need me to stop at the drugstore before you get home?” He asked.
“No. You can just drop me home. I live in Lakeside Apartments, at the Eckner Lake Promenade.
“When did you move?”
My stomach dropped, and it wasn’t from the illness.
“How did you know I moved?” I asked with apprehension.
“Oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing over at me. “You used to live on Crescent Street, right?” I nodded, anxiety swirling in my chest. “We got called out that way one night when I was shadowing.”
I let out a shaky murmur of acknowledgement, praying that he hadn’t been one of the cops to come to the crime scene of my brother’s murder slash alleged suicide.
Fuck, I want him to be a good guy. I want him to be so far removed from anything to do with Los Siete.
But, what the hell kind of call did he answer at my house other than the cover-up for my brother’s death?
We sat in silence for most of the car ride until he suddenly spoke, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts of whether or not this was some test from Carlos.
“I know that you and Nox are close, and I just want you to know that you are welcome at our house anytime, Shiloh. If you ever need to stay, please don’t hesitate to ask. And I’m here if there’s anything that you ever want to talk about,” he said with a small smile.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. This is a fucking test. A loyalty test from Carlos. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I could feel the sweat start to prickle the back of my neck, and I avoided looking over at Dan.
“I might be a cop, but that doesn’t mean that you’re going to get in trouble if you tell me something.
So,” he paused, looking closely at the parking lot until he found the empty visitor’s space by the door.
“If you think there’s something I can help you with, maybe something your dad isn’t able to do, please tell me. ”
My heart fucking stopped in my chest. I dug my nails into my palms, the threat of vomiting into the grocery bag on my lap imminent.
The silence dragged and I swallowed the urge to gag, taking in a deep breath.
“Have you been to the doctor about your anxiety and panic attacks?”
Fuck, not now. I swallowed, my stomach turning.
“I’m fine. The other night was just a one-off. I’m handling it.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to exit the car as quickly as possible, when Dan gently put his hand over mine that was holding onto my backpack. I passed the damn test, now let me fucking leave!
“Shiloh, wait. I know it’s an awkward question, but I have to ask…are you on something?”
My head reared back with shock. “What?”
“Drugs, alcohol, are you using substances?”
“No. No. I swear. I really am sick. The stomach flu or something.”
I met his eyes, my vision finally clear enough to see that he was searching my face, like he was waiting for a different answer just like Enoch always did.
“Can I go now?”
“Do you want me to come up?”
I shook my head.
“Okay, kiddo. Feel better. And if you need anything don’t hesitate to reach out to Nox or Jae. I know those two will be worried about you.”
Something about Dan’s tone left me feeling guilty. Like he wanted me to say yes and was disappointed I hadn’t. Was it pity or something else that he was feeling for me? Why did it feel like he knew everything and was just waiting for me to confirm it?
If that were the case, did that mean he wasn’t working for Los Siete? Was he genuinely concerned?
I didn’t know what was worse—Dan knowing the truth and wanting to talk about it as some sort of test from Carlos, or Dan not knowing the truth and suspecting, risking us all to be damned by Carlos for being traitors.