into his hand and washing them down with a swallow of milk.
“How come the alarm?” she asked. “They might not tease you if you didn’t beep.”
Nick shrugged. “They’ll tease me anyway. And I can’t trust myself to remember to take the pills.”
“Even if it’s the same time every day?” Sarah asked, frowning in puzzlement.
He nodded, his lips twisting into a wry grimace that Sarah was pretty sure was meant to be a smile. Should she volunteer to remind him herself, the way he’d volunteered to carry her tray? Or would that make him feel even worse? She picked up her fork and began to poke at her macaroni and cheese, but Nick just sat silently, staring at the hamburger and fries on his tray. Sarah paused, her fork hovering in the air.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
He nodded, but made no move to pick up his fork.
Sarah glanced around, but no one seemed to be looking at them. “What is it?” she asked quietly. “What’s wrong?” He glanced up at her, and she could see the fear in his eyes. “Just tell me,” she pressed. “Maybe I can help.”
Nick looked at her again. “Promise not to laugh?” he whispered.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, I’m going to laugh my head off, just like you did when I couldn’t even hold on to my tray any longer.”
Nick still hesitated but finally leaned closer, and when he spoke, his voice was so soft she could barely hear him. “I see things sometimes. Things that aren’t there. That’s what the pills are for.”
Saw things? What did he mean? What was he, some kind of a nu—Sarah cut off the thought even before it was fully formed, but still felt a wave of shame—she wasn’t any better than the other kids in the room.
Except that at least she hadn’t said what she’d thought out loud, and from now on, she promised herself, she wouldn’t even think it. “So are you seeing something right now?” she asked, keeping her voice as level as if they were just talking about the weather.
Nick nodded.
“What?” Sarah asked, her own lunch forgotten for the moment. “What do you see?”
He hesitated, but then looked straight at her. “Worms,” he said. “I know there’s supposed to be french fries on my plate, but that’s not what I’m seeing.”
Sarah glanced at Nick’s plate and saw the tangle of skinny fries. Reaching over she picked one up. “Mind if I eat one?” she asked. “I always used to like worms with my mud pies when I was little.” Without waiting for an answer, she popped the fry into her mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. “Pretty good—tastes exactly like french fries. Looks sort of like worms, though, doesn’t it?”
“But it’s not, right?” Nick asked.
“It’s not,” Sarah promised. “It’s just french fries.”
Nick took a deep breath, nibbled a fry, then picked up his hamburger and bit into it. As he chewed, Sarah finally took her first forkful of the macaroni and cheese, then pulled all but the first taste back out of her mouth. “You sure it wasn’t this that looked like worms?” she asked.
Nick just shook his head. “That always looks like maggots.” Abruptly, he grinned. “But I’m not sure that’s a hallucination at all.”
Staring at the lunch she now knew she wasn’t going to finish, Sarah decided she liked Nick Dunnigan.
At least she liked him a lot better than the macaroni and cheese.
Chapter Eight
S arah sat quietly at her table in Miss Philips’s room as her classmates disappeared out the door into the corridor.
What had she done?
Why had Miss Philips told her to stay after school?
Had she done something wrong today? But there wasn’t even an assignment—all they’d done was listen as Miss Philips talked about still life drawings and how the really good ones were so carefully composed they didn’t look composed at all. And Sarah knew she certainly hadn’t done anything wrong—in fact, she hadn’t done anything at all, except take notes.
When the room was finally empty
“How come the alarm?” she asked. “They might not tease you if you didn’t beep.”
Nick shrugged. “They’ll tease me anyway. And I can’t trust myself to remember to take the pills.”
“Even if it’s the same time every day?” Sarah asked, frowning in puzzlement.
He nodded, his lips twisting into a wry grimace that Sarah was pretty sure was meant to be a smile. Should she volunteer to remind him herself, the way he’d volunteered to carry her tray? Or would that make him feel even worse? She picked up her fork and began to poke at her macaroni and cheese, but Nick just sat silently, staring at the hamburger and fries on his tray. Sarah paused, her fork hovering in the air.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
He nodded, but made no move to pick up his fork.
Sarah glanced around, but no one seemed to be looking at them. “What is it?” she asked quietly. “What’s wrong?” He glanced up at her, and she could see the fear in his eyes. “Just tell me,” she pressed. “Maybe I can help.”
Nick looked at her again. “Promise not to laugh?” he whispered.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure, I’m going to laugh my head off, just like you did when I couldn’t even hold on to my tray any longer.”
Nick still hesitated but finally leaned closer, and when he spoke, his voice was so soft she could barely hear him. “I see things sometimes. Things that aren’t there. That’s what the pills are for.”
Saw things? What did he mean? What was he, some kind of a nu—Sarah cut off the thought even before it was fully formed, but still felt a wave of shame—she wasn’t any better than the other kids in the room.
Except that at least she hadn’t said what she’d thought out loud, and from now on, she promised herself, she wouldn’t even think it. “So are you seeing something right now?” she asked, keeping her voice as level as if they were just talking about the weather.
Nick nodded.
“What?” Sarah asked, her own lunch forgotten for the moment. “What do you see?”
He hesitated, but then looked straight at her. “Worms,” he said. “I know there’s supposed to be french fries on my plate, but that’s not what I’m seeing.”
Sarah glanced at Nick’s plate and saw the tangle of skinny fries. Reaching over she picked one up. “Mind if I eat one?” she asked. “I always used to like worms with my mud pies when I was little.” Without waiting for an answer, she popped the fry into her mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. “Pretty good—tastes exactly like french fries. Looks sort of like worms, though, doesn’t it?”
“But it’s not, right?” Nick asked.
“It’s not,” Sarah promised. “It’s just french fries.”
Nick took a deep breath, nibbled a fry, then picked up his hamburger and bit into it. As he chewed, Sarah finally took her first forkful of the macaroni and cheese, then pulled all but the first taste back out of her mouth. “You sure it wasn’t this that looked like worms?” she asked.
Nick just shook his head. “That always looks like maggots.” Abruptly, he grinned. “But I’m not sure that’s a hallucination at all.”
Staring at the lunch she now knew she wasn’t going to finish, Sarah decided she liked Nick Dunnigan.
At least she liked him a lot better than the macaroni and cheese.
Chapter Eight
S arah sat quietly at her table in Miss Philips’s room as her classmates disappeared out the door into the corridor.
What had she done?
Why had Miss Philips told her to stay after school?
Had she done something wrong today? But there wasn’t even an assignment—all they’d done was listen as Miss Philips talked about still life drawings and how the really good ones were so carefully composed they didn’t look composed at all. And Sarah knew she certainly hadn’t done anything wrong—in fact, she hadn’t done anything at all, except take notes.
When the room was finally empty
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