Night Sky by Suzanne Brockmann

was going to get my period today ? It wasn’t due for at least another week.
    Before I could even begin to process what had happened last night, both at the Sav’A’Buck with the motorcycle girl and then after, I needed to do some damage control.
    I rolled out of bed and, knees pressed together, shuffled awkwardly into the hallway toward the bathroom, shielding my eyes from the sunlight seeping through the front blinds. This morning, everything hurt.
    From my bedroom, I could hear my cell phone beeping.
    My thoughts shifted to last night’s argument. My mom had attached a GPS navigator to my phone!
    I moaned, realizing that getting angry was not going to help my current situation. I staggered into the bathroom and pulled a bottle of painkillers out of the medicine cabinet.
    Taking two, I stuck my head beneath the faucet and clumsily gulped some water before tipping my head back and swallowing the pills. I rubbed my face and then glanced at my reflection in the mirror.
    If I didn’t take better care of myself, I was going to start looking like that washed-up police detective.
    Mom was up. I could hear her moving around now in her bedroom. I pressed the lock button on the bathroom door, just in case, and then sat down on the toilet.
    I looked down. Yes, I had my period. Fabulous.
    The cabinet underneath the sink was just far enough away that I had to really reach to grab the tampons. I winced as I leaned over.
    I had never been hungover, but it couldn’t possibly be worse than this.
    By the time that I had showered and started to move around a little bit, I was feeling better, the cramps down to a dull ache. Mom kept to her room, and I grabbed my cell phone-slash- Where’s Skylar? spy system and headed downstairs.
    I saw from my phone that it was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon—I’d slept that late. And there was a new text from Calvin: U doin ok? Apparently he’d regained his phone privileges. I started to text him back, but then I wondered if my mom received all my texts as well. If she did, I’d have to start keeping things really vague. Better not to respond to Cal until I could tell him, in person, not to send me any messages about jokering Destiny addicts. Wouldn’t that make Mom’s head explode?
    Leave it to my mother to turn my life into a Jason Bourne movie. She probably bugged my old teddy bears too. I picture myself tapping Morse code onto the arm of Cal’s wheelchair. Meet me under the highway overpass at oh-dark-thirty, dash dash dash, dot dot dot .
    â€œSkylar, I’m going to the store,” Mom said, startling me as she stepped quietly into the kitchen. “Are you going to be okay?”
    â€œYeah.” I deliberately turned away and poked my head into the fridge so that I wouldn’t have to look at her. “You know where I’ll be,” I continued, and laughed humorlessly. I pretended I was deciding what to make for lunch, but in truth I wasn’t hungry.
    I knew, even without turning around, that my mom was standing there staring at me. I also knew that she’d been crying.
    Imagine how she would’ve reacted if she’d known what happened last night, while I was breaking her rules out in Harrisburg. I was still a little surprised that she hadn’t grounded me. Yet. That magic could still be coming.
    But after a moment, she walked over to the kitchen counter and poured some coffee into her travel mug. “You know,” she said, “your science teacher’s in the hospital.”
    I turned around, leaning against the open refrigerator door. “Mrs. Wilson?” I asked.
    â€œYeah,” Mom replied. “She has a terrible case of pneumonia. It came out of nowhere Thursday morning. It hit her really hard. You and your friends might want to send her a get-well card.”
    I realized with a jolt that Thursday had been when I’d gone to the CoffeeBoy with Calvin because I’d known that