Chapter Sixteen
My throat is scratchy and sore, and my nose won’t stop dripping. At first I thought it was due to all the crying I did this evening, but the two jerseys I’m wearing and the five gazillion sneezes that have attacked me in the past hour have led me to a different conclusion: I’m getting sick.
I climb beneath my duvet and close the window next to my bed so the sound of bucketing rain isn’t so loud. I find my phone amidst the folds of blanket and search for the number of the one person I want to speak to right now. I snuggle against my pillows and listen to the ringing. Please answer, I think. Please answer, please answer, please—
“Hello? Sarah?” Livi says breathlessly, as though she had to run to get to her phone.
“Hey,” I say, picturing her having a fantastically fun even
