Chapter 8February 14th
Jessa held my hair as I vomited. It was violent and repetitive, the sound of my retching, but Jessa was unfazed. “Just get it all up.” I let loose a pitiful moan and then threw up another few teaspoons of seafood. “All of it, there you go.”
“It’s so bad,” I sobbed, trying to resist the urge to lay my head on the side of the toilet. I could practically feel the cool porcelain against my hot cheek—Abort! Abort! Germs!
I threw up again, hard, wrenching my stomach.
“Oh God, it tastes so bad,” I groaned, spluttering and spitting.
“Why did you eat it, then?” Jessa asked me imploringly, tightening her grip on my hair. My neck was aching so I went with her pull, unwrapping myself from around the bowl.
“It didn’t taste bad when I ate it! Well, maybe a little off, but it
