Chapter 2 Joy's POV
Well that was weird. Why is Patricia lying? She never lies to me. "Patricia what's going on?" I ask her.
"Nothing," she responds.
Patricia only says nothing's going on when something's going on. I go into the bathroom, quickly brush my teeth and then rush into my room as Victor starts to do his rounds upstairs. I get into my bed. I look at Patricia. She's now in her pajamas, but she doesn't seem to be getting in her bed. Instead, she's staring off into the distance absentmindedly, but something tells me her mind isn't exactly absent.
"Patricia, really?"
"I'm fine!" she shouts at my without even glancing my way. She got into her bed, swiftly turned off the lamp beside her bed, and, without even saying goodnight, went to sleep.
Mara looked at me with slight confusion. She obviously didn't want to get into this. Maybe Patricia was just tired. It'll probably be better in the morning. But as I turned off my own lamp I couldn't help but feel the sense of more information tugging at my brain.
THE NEXT MORNING
I woke to a startling noise. Patricia, or at least what I thought was Patricia, I couldn't really tell with my early morning blur, ran out of the room with her hands cupped to her mouth. As a normal human I would have just stayed in bed and waited for my alarm to ring, but as her friend I had to, uhh, I mean I wanted to go after her to make sure she was okay. I slipped on my slippers, ha, get it. Anyway I put on my slippers and walked after her. She was in the bathroom gagging into the toilet. I hope she doesn't have a bug, because we share a room, uh, I mean that would be horrible!
"Patricia! What's wrong?!" I holler. She vomits into the toilet. Eww! Gross!
Apparently Amber overheard, because she came rushing into the bathroom, her perfect blond hair whipping past her face. "What's going - Eww, eww, eww!" she squealed looking at the excess of Patricia's guts in the toilet bowl.
"Amber, could you get Trudy?" I ask her. She silently complies and left the bathroom.
She stuck her head around the corner again to ask, "Where exactly is Trudy? I mean, I think she lives here, but like in what room? Do we have any other rooms? Where does Victor sleep…" she rambled on.
"I don't know Amber, just find her!" I demanded.
"No...no...I'm fine," Patricia mumbles over the toilet. I hand her a wad of tissue to wipe her mouth. "Thanks."
"Are you okay?" I asked her. She tossed the tissues into the bin, flushed the toilet, but still sat huddled around the bowl like a cat surrounding her kittens.
"I guess," she answered. She looked ill. Her face was green, her eyes sunken in from supposed exhaustion, and her cheeks rosy with sick heat.
"You don't think you caught the same flu Alfie had?" I wondered.
"Uhh...Yeah that's probably what it is," she agreed.
A stomping rang down the corridor. Trudy came into the bathroom, closely followed by Amber, who was guarding her eyes from the sight of vomit.
"What happened?!" Trudy asked, rubbing her hand down Patricia's spine comfortingly.
"I was just a little sick that's all," Patricia told Trudy.
"Not just a little," I corrected her.
"Let me get my thermometer." Trudy exited the bathroom.
Patricia stood up and walked out. Amber and I looked at each other with suspicious glances.
"What's up with her?" Amber asked me.
"I don't know." I followed after Patricia. She was lying face first into her pillows. A muffled crying noise coming from her mouth. "Patricia, what's going on?" I ask her.
She sits back up again, quickly wiping the tears from the corners of her red eyes, hoping I wouldn't notice. She didn't respond to my question.
"Let me get you some water." I walk back into the bathroom, Amber standing cautiously by the doorway, like she was scouting for somebody. I grab a little paper cup from the mirror cabinet and fill it with ice cold water. Just as I'm about to turn back and give an emotional, sick Patricia the cup I notice something plastic in the bin. Perhaps just a tampon applicator, but it looked too big to be that. So, even though it is disgusting, I reach my hand in and pull out the stick. It was a pregnancy test! Who could be pregnant? But then it just occurred to me. Of course, it's Patricia. That's why she was sick this morning, and has been basically bitching and blubbering this entire time.
I walk back over to Patricia and hand her the cup of water. I make sure Mara's fast asleep. She has been even through the whole of this chaos. Well, I guess she has been studying a lot.
"What is this?" I ask her, displaying the pregnancy test in front of her, the two lines boldly glaring at the two of us.
Patricia starts to shake, as if there already wasn't enough going against her for being sick. "I...I don't know," she answers, clearly nervous.
"It's your's, isn't it?" I sit down beside her ready to embrace her when she finally comes clean. But before she can do so, Trudy comes in with a thermometer and the rest of the first aid kit.
"Here you go, sweetie. Just pop that in your mouth for a minute or so and rest."
I swiftly hide the test underneath my shirt before either Trudy or Amber see.
"What's that?" Amber asks, pointing to the weird oblong shape poking out of my t-shirt.
"Nothing," I answer suspiciously fast.
Amber shrugs it off, and I don't even think Trudy was listening in the first place. Mara is still sound asleep, oddly and conveniently enough, and Patricia's pregnant. Oh my gosh! Patricia's pregnant. Why did it take me so long to register that?! That's crazy. She's just a teenager.
"Good morning," Mara mumbles through her bedsheets. Apparently she's awake now. Oh god, what are we going to do?