The Book of Firsts

Thirty-Two

Rin’s enthusiasm left me with a few twinges, but otherwise didn’t bother me, so I made good progress on my model, and happily squeezed into Carr’s station wagon for the trip to the Tokley Centre.

"Nearly dark already," I reflected, looking up at the roof of the atrium as we ate an early dinner.

"Such a badly named city," Lania agreed, sighing. "We’ve actually been pretty lucky so far this December, since it usually rains endlessly, and blue sky is reduced to a memory. There’s a reason most people go away for Christmas and New Year."

"Bahamas for us," Sean said. "I’ve been working on my beach bod in prep."

"Seychelles," Rick added.

"Aspen," Anika said. "Where are you going, Carr?"

"New Zealand."

Sometimes I forget that almost everyone at my school comes from a certain level of wealth. Not the ridiculous affluence Carr and the Three Kings' clan apparently possessed, but enough that international holidays were a matter of course. I watched Lania keeping her attention firmly on her crepe, and wondered if her plans for staying home and playing games with me was due to family preference, or monetary restraint.

"Is the entire winter miserable?" I asked, thinking about being naked in a summer house.

"Later on it’ll be less rainy, but a lot colder at night. December’s the worst, just because of the rain."

After eating, we headed for the mall’s cinema on the roof level, and I manoeuvred so that Lania and I were trailing the crowd once we started on the gauntlet of escalators.

"Why don’t you come to Québec City with me? It’ll be colder, but it apparently does really beautiful New Year events. I’ve been researching things to do, and they have this toboggan run that sounds like a lot of fun."

"Oh, I couldn’t…"

"And we wouldn’t have to deal with bad ping playing games together," I added.

"Mika, you haven’t seen your parents for months. How could I butt in on your family time?"

"I often don’t see my parents for months—we make up for it with video chat. Since the company hiring my mother is renting an apartment for the winter, there won’t be any issue with accommodation, and it will be a change for me to see a new city with a friend."

Lania had gone a lovely shade of red, and almost looked like she wanted to run away, making me think of Rin’s attempts to date her.

"At least think about it, and let me know next week," I said. "I don’t think visas are required, but I’ll want to book flights soon. Because my family flies so often we have a ton of frequent flier points and things, so I can get us discounted airfare."

"I—I’ll ask my parents," Lania said.

Before I could be too thoroughly pleased with myself, the smile I’d just coaxed fell from Lania’s face. I turned as I reached the top of the last escalator, and saw that among the crowd on the wide upper landing was a selection of very beautiful girls. My own smile faded a little, recognising Meggan, but it would be the trio of Sirocco, Katerina and Alexa which had surely spoiled Lania’s evening. An outing of the Rose Court.

During the inevitable spate of greetings I said hi to Celeste, who was always pleasant in the classes we shared, and waited patiently until the discussion turned to which movie to see.

"We’re here for Sky of Diamond," Katerina said. "Nothing else showing could beat another May Brunsfield Simon Courtney adaptation."

"Period yawnfest," Rick said, though not so loud people couldn’t pretend not to hear. "Our only decision is between Cryosis and the new Bond."

"You go do that," Alexa said, sounding bored.

"There’s no reason everyone can’t go to whatever movie they want," Carr said mildly. "There’s little chance we could all sit together anyway."

"True, true," Sean said. "And I am all for Sky of Diamond. I’m Simon Courtney’s biggest fan, can’t wait for the next book."

"Totally," Anika said.

We began to sort into loose groups, and I noticed Lania’s hesitation.

"What are you going to see, Mika?" she asked me softly.

"None of the above," I murmured. "But if you’re worried about Sky of Diamond seating, just wait until they buy tickets and make sure to ask for something that isn’t near them."

"Can’t decide?" Carr asked, noticing us hanging back.

"I’m sure as the daughter of an author, Mika plans on Sky of Diamond," Katerina said, inevitably following wherever Carr’s attention went.

"No, I’m going to see the Disney," I said. "I missed it when it came out."

Katerina managed not to laugh, but the sneer wasn’t well hidden. Sirocco, following her over, gave me an encouraging smile.

"Come to Sky of Diamond," she said. "It’s a brilliant story."

I shook my head firmly. "The Courtneys are all a little too samey for me. Beautifully written, of course, and May Brunsfield is an amazing director, but it’s always the same pattern. Introduce a bunch of fascinating people, make you like them, destroy their lives, end on a note of hope."

"Literary analysis for the ages," Katerina said. "Your father would be proud."

"No, he likes tragedies." I wasn’t going to waste my time trading barbs about my dad. "Let’s buy our tickets before the line gets too long."

"Can’t I change your mind?" Carr asked, after we’d lined up. "Leaving you by yourself feels very rude."

"It’s the movie I want to see most out of those on offer," I said, shrugging. "My only worry is whether or not to overdose myself on popcorn right after having dinner."

The lines were fast-moving, and we soon separated off into different theatres. Afterwards, I caught a bus rather than hang about, sending a text to Lania so she would know not to look for me. In truth, I had planned to see Sky of Diamond, but not at the price of extra time around the Rose Court, particularly Meggan, who I didn’t hate, but couldn’t forgive. Besides, Rin had worn me out, and the Disney movie was the shortest.

On Sunday Lania called to accept my invitation to Québec, and I arranged our tickets before settling down to a week of study break, which I spent doing practice papers. There wasn’t anything that gave me trouble, so I just used the topics as a handy structure for revision. Since these exams had no impact on the university entrance scores, I wasn’t worried about self-sabotage, and slept with my standard level of difficulty the night before, waking around 5 am.

At which point I ran into the bathroom and vomited excessively—fortunately mainly in the shower stall. That was the end of sleep. My bones ached quite unreasonably, and I kept having to heave up tiny amounts of sour liquid. I’m not a person who gets sick very often, but ever since I ignored a cough into pneumonia, I’ve been very good about going to a doctor as soon as my health wavers. There was a medical centre within walking distance, and I took myself down there just on opening time, juggling my umbrella and an empty ice cream container. Fortunately, the daily downpour that had marked study week hadn’t started yet.

For a little while, sitting in the medical centre waiting room, I half-convinced myself that my birth control had failed, and that I was facing a situation I’d never expected. I really couldn’t think that through, and clung to the fact that I felt pretty bad overall, postponing all thought until I had the doctor’s verdict. Which, after a bit of waffle, was likely a virus.

"Can I go to my exam?" I asked, still clutching the ice cream container I’d dry-heaved into twice in the waiting room.

"Not unless you want to sabotage your friends," she said, briskly. "I’ll give you something for the temperature. If the vomiting doesn’t ease, come back in."

I made it back home before the rain started, vomited up two attempts to take my medicine, and remembered to call the school admin office before going back to bed. I felt too achy to sleep, and entered that vague partial-consciousness that I suffer whenever I try to sleep on planes, with occasional added stomach spasms. My phone rang a few hours later—Lania calling to find out why I hadn’t showed for the morning exam—and I think I did sleep a little after that, but mostly I had a headache that merged with a pounding that I eventually realised was my front door. Then Lania was scolding me, ostensibly for leaving a spare key hidden in a flower pot.

"Hi," I said, after she stopped talking.

"You’re so hot, Mikaela," she said, pressing my forehead.

"That’s what they tell me," I said, laughed, and then groped for my ice cream bucket for some unnecessary retching.

"Hot and very dehydrated," another voice said. "Lania is now going to pack you a bag, and help you get dressed, and then we’re going for a small drive."

I focused with some difficulty on Carr, then said: "Bring along the hand sanitiser."

It was pouring, and Lania and Carr’s efforts to get me to his car without getting soaked weren’t entirely successful, but I was privately glad for the cool drops on my forehead. I curled on the back seat, refusing to let go of my ice cream bucket, but it was gone the next time I was really aware, lying in an examination room discovering a needle in my arm.

Lania and Carr were standing by the foot of the cot doing serious faces at each other, but before I could speak my phone rang: the unknown caller ringtone.

Noticing I was awake, Lania forestalled my attempt to reach for the bag tucked by my side, and fetched my phone for me. She didn’t glance at the screen, thankfully, though perhaps she wouldn’t have recognised the number. I did, and so answered the phone with: "Hi, Dad."

My throat was dry and the words came out very croaky, which might explain the long pause that followed, and then a soft and strangely muffled voice said: "How are you?"

"I seem to be having a saline drip. Lania and Carr played cavalry and rode off with me." I paused and looked back at my rescuers. "Am I spending the night here?"

"You are staying with Lania for the rest of the week," Carr told me. "The doctor doesn’t think whatever you have is too serious, but they don’t want you alone."

I smiled at him, then said into the phone: "I’m lucky to have people here who check up on me."

"You are," my caller replied. "I suppose the signal from the wilds of Patagonia might be rather bad."

"It is. I can hardly hear you."

"Then I think my connection is about to be abruptly severed. Thank Lania—and even Carr—on my behalf. They’ve relieved my mind. And…have a great holiday, Cheshire."

"You too," I said. "I—Dad? Oh, the call dropped out." I looked up at Lania and Carr. "He said to thank you. You guys are lifesavers."

"Probably not that serious, but I’m glad we could help," Carr said, sitting down on a chair by my cot. "Living alone is something millions of people do, but it seems so perilous."

"Mm. I’m supposed to send my parents a text every day, so they would have raised the alarm before too long, though the signal where they’re hiking isn’t great. Please tell me that you lathered yourself with hand sanitiser at every opportunity, because I really don’t want to have given this to you."

"We’ve been careful," he said.

"Maybe we can borrow a couple of face masks," I said, and insisted on wearing one when we left.

The hospital, in return, insisted on a wheelchair to Carr’s station wagon, which made me feel very silly, but although I felt fathoms better, I didn’t really have the energy to demonstrate that I didn’t need it.

The rain had slackened to a mild drizzle, and Carr followed Lania’s directions along roads brilliant with reflected street light, following a tram line to a fairly distant part of town. It was later than I thought, well past the after-work rush hour.

"You’ll be able to catch the tram all the way to Helios U next year," Carr said, when we finally turned off the main road and into a side street, pulling up in front of a comfortable looking two-story home.

"Yes, so lucky," Lania said. "It’ll actually be quicker for me than getting to Corascur, even though Corascur is closer."

Her voice was a little high, nervous, and I wondered if her parents were perhaps not sanguine about taking in a virus-riddled stranger. They met us at the door: a small woman with faded red hair, and a big, bluff blond man. They seemed welcoming enough, Lania’s mother taking over guiding me upstairs while Carr stayed down to talk to her father. I noticed that Lania relaxed considerably after this, and decided she hadn’t wanted Carr to see her slightly untidy and heavily Lego-themed bedroom.

"We’re putting you here because Lania’s room has an en suite," Mrs Nichols explained, settling me on a freshly-made bed. "Do you think you’re able to drink a little light soup? Or perhaps some lemonade?"

"Start with water?" I suggested.

In the end I was able to keep down a little honey water, and decided not to risk anything more ambitious. Once Lania had gone to bunk down in her kid sister’s room I called my parents to catch them up on my new living arrangements, and then slept.