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New York Trip
An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle
“We are no longer speaking, sir!” Mikey said with one last glare aimed at her grandfather, the man that should be doing everything within his power to spoil her, as she rolled over onto her side, struggled not to vomit from the small movement, and pointedly ignored him.
For several minutes, she simply laid there, seething with righteous anger, knowing that she was minutes, nay, seconds away from her grandfather giving in and allowing her to go to the convention so that she could-
“He’s gone,” Sebastian said, making her frown.
“What?” Mikey asked, glancing over her shoulder, expecting to see her grandfather standing there, ready to beg for her forgiveness only he wasn’t there.
“He took your ticket and left,” Sebastian said from where he lounged on the bed next to her with another book in his hands as she laid there, seething.
“He’ll pay for this betrayal,” she said, glaring at the door until even that became too much and she was forced to close her eyes, turn her head, and bury her face against her pillow as she waited for the nausea pills that seemed to be working for everyone but her, to kick in.
“Yeah, he looked terrified,” Sebastian said, sounding bored as he reached over and absently patted her on the head as her anger shifted to the boy that she was no longer speaking with.
“This is your fault,” she reminded him, deciding that she’d would give him the silent treatment after she’d made sure that he knew that she was pissed at him.
“No one forced you to eat my mother’s cooking,” Sebastian said, making her frown.
“Not that,” Mikey said, shaking her head in disgust only to rethink it, groan and try to stay perfectly still. “You told them that I was still sick and now I have to miss the convention.”
“I see,” he murmured, sounding thoughtful before asking, “And you don’t think the fact that you were hugging the toilet, begging for death had anything to do with it?”
“No, no, I do not,” she said, deciding that she did not want to spend another minute with the boy that had betrayed her, she climbed out of the bed, stood up, decided that crawling would probably be safer, and made her way to the other bed that she somehow managed to climb onto without getting sick, crawled over Uncle Trevor, who wasn’t looking too good, ignored his pained grunts, crawled beneath the covers, curled up on her side, and promised herself that she would never move again.
“So, you want me to leave?” Sebastian asked as he sat down on the bed next to her, earning a glare as he settled in to get more comfortable.
“Yes,” Mikey said even as she reached over and grabbed hold of his tee-shirt as she closed her eyes, deciding that she would use this time to plan her revenge.
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