Fluorescence: The Complete Tetralogy (2 page)

“Oh my God…” I whimpered beneath my breath.

I had to call Mom. There was something very wrong with me.

A creepy, static-charge feeling made my hair stand on end. The pain was quickly intensifying. I turned on the faucet and splashed the area with a handful of cool water. It calmed the inflammation, turning it more pink than red.

The sharp pain struck me again and I gasped. The first attack had been brief, but this one… wouldn’t go away. Burning. Spreading. I forced myself up to look into the mirror, and then had to cover my mouth to muffle a shriek.

My back pulsed with an ugly neon-green glow, as if someone had cracked open and leaked instant glow stick over me. Thin bright green veins stretched up and over my shoulder toward my collar bone and down to the small of my back. It was brightest in the center—over my shoulder blade—and faded as it spread and forked out in various directions.

I pulled myself up onto the bathroom counter and scooted closer to the mirror, contorting so I was nose to nose with myself. My hot breath fogged the mirror, distorting my reflection. I rubbed it clear with my forearm.

The branching neon veins crawled beneath my skin, brightening and dimming rhythmically. A subtle dust-like aura leached out through the surface, casting off particles of glimmering light that quickly vanished.

My hands trembled uncontrollably. My pulse raced.

So bright. Such a vivid green. Disgusting. My stomach… felt sicker. Churning. I was about to throw up.

I took a squirt of hand soap from the counter and rubbed it vigorously against the skin. I scrubbed it nearly raw with a wet washcloth, but all it did was cause me to hurt more. Nothing changed. The green continued to glow, fading in and out, the tiny lines of color still spreading across my back.

Unreal.

Toxic.

I felt light-headed—dizzy. Breathing hard.

I
had
to call mom
now
. Before…

Ugh.
Black and white dots speckled my vision, flashing in and out like stars.

No.

Not a panic attack. Not now.

Breathe. Just breathe!

Deep breaths. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. Slowly.

Get a grip!

I pulled my phone out of my pocket but it slipped from my shaking hands and fell onto the bathroom floor.

“No!” I bent over and scooped it up.

What if Mom thinks it’s drugs?
Sam and I would
never
—ever. We’d made a promise.
But…

“Ya alright in there, Allie?” Sam knocked on the door.

I gasped.

“Uh, yeah,” I replied, my voice breaking.

“Ya sure? You’ve been in there for, like, ever. Annnnd I heard ya squeal. Find a bug or something?” Her voice shot up an octave. She wasn’t too enthusiastic about bugs either.

“Just… feeling a little sick.”

“Like
period
sick? Or do you need some pink stuff?”

“I… don’t know. It might be… another panic attack. I don’t know. I have to call my mom.” I tossed the blanket over my shoulders, hoping it would hide the glow, and cracked opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be okay. I think I should go home though.”

“Awww, poor baby.” Sam reached toward my shoulder. I shifted, dodging her hand and her jaw dropped. “Wh-what is it?”

“I… I just don’t feel good.” I shuffled past. “I’m sorry, Sam.” The heat diminished and I started feeling a little relief from the pain.

Her lips wrinkled into a frown and my heart tightened. Her big brown puppy-dog eyes put my stomach in even more knots. I’d known her since the second grade—my best friend in the whole world—but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what I’d just seen in the mirror.

I texted my mom.

She replied within a minute. Record speed.

MOM: Be right over…

I wiggled the phone for Sam to see.

“She’s coming now. Probably be here in ten or fifteen.”

“Okay.” Sam sniffled, pretending that she was about to cry. “I’ll miss you,” she muttered, impersonating a small child.

“I know.” I chuckled and tightened my blanket around my shoulders. I couldn’t forget
why
I was leaving early. The pain had let up, luckily, and my stomach had calmed down. Just being near Sam made me feel better. “We’ll finish our movie another night, I guess.” I grabbed my purse from off the coffee table and made my way to the front door. Sam tagged close beside me and then dashed ahead to get the door.

I stepped onto the porch and shivered. My furry kitty slippers weren’t much help against the brisk night air. I started bouncing on the soles of my feet to fight the chill.

“I’m sorry I messed up our night. I wanted to stay over. I really did.” I turned to her and smiled as honestly as I could. “I just don’t feel well.” I held my belly. “It might be the new meds or something.”

Sam nodded and smiled, stretching out her arms to hug me. “I know and I still love you, Alice! I hope you feel better really soon.”

“I will.”

She squeezed tightly and I grunted as she choked a little breath from me. Best hugger
ever
.

Mom pulled into the driveway.

“Bye!” I waved and rushed to the car. Mom had the door propped open for me. I ducked down and hopped into my seat, yanking my blanket in behind me so it wouldn’t catch in the door frame as I pulled it shut. I clicked my seatbelt into place.

Sam waved frantically from the driveway, shivering and bounding up and down in place with a huge goofy grin on her face. Poor thing hadn’t even grabbed a jacket on the way out.

Mom’s eyes were focused on the road; she kept nibbling her lip and flexing her fingers on the steering wheel. I didn’t know what to say. We’d be home in a few minutes.

“I’ll be okay, Mom,” I said, breaking the awkward
silence.

“It’s okay. I’ll take you back to the doctor tomorrow. If it is that
new medication, Dr. Eliza will have to
get you something different.
Don’t take any more tonight.”
She veered her head toward me. “You didn’t take your second dose, did you?”

“No. Not yet.” I shook my head and she went back to focusing on the road. We pulled into the driveway and I tugged my blanket up again, clutching my purse with my other hand.

“You should head to bed. It’s late.” Mom punched
a button on the keypad by the door and the garage door closed.
I went upstairs to my room.

Chapter 2

B
eing a teenager sucks.

As a freshman in high school, I thought I was over the awkward phase. I didn’t tell my mom about what had happened. She probably would have freaked out and taken me to the hospital. I didn’t need to be poked and prodded.

Before bed, I did a bunch of googling and couldn’t find anything useful. Glowing skin, not exactly something found in a respectable Wiki. If it’s not on the internet, it doesn’t exist. Right?

I texted Sam to let her know I felt better. It couldn’t be the meds. I didn’t see neon green skin on the list of side effects. Besides, I had
anemia,
not… cancer. I hadn’t been getting chemo or even had an X-Ray that I could remember. Iron and B12 don’t make you radioactive.

I stretched the collar of my t-shirt, pulled it down my shoulder and craned my neck to look back. It had stopped glowing, but I knew what I had seen, and I wouldn’t forget it.

I rubbed my shoulder with my hand and sighed.
When will it happen again? Will it? What if I can’t cover it up next time? Would it scare Mom if I told her about it? Or Sam?

My internet research wasn’t doing me any good. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it would never happen again.

. . .

I sat in the front row of the bus with one foot creeping into the aisle.

“Feeling better?” Sam smiled, nudging me in the arm with her elbow. We hit a speed bump and I clutched my bag.

“Yeah. Mom’s taking me to the doctor this afternoon, though.”

“That’s good.” She nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”

“I guess.” I shrugged and
heaved a sigh that was probably loud enough for the kids in the back of the bus to hear. “I haaaate going to the doctor. Why can’t I just be a normal kid without stupid junk wrong with me?”

“You’re perfect!” Sam’s curly red hair bounced on and off her shoulder as she nodded matter-of-factly.

The driver braked and pulled the lever that opened the bus door. Sam straightened up. “OMG!” She jabbed me in the arm.

“What?” I groaned beneath my breath.

“Shh!”

A tall boy dressed in dark jeans and a weathered brown-leather jacket jogged up the steps. He grabbed onto the metal hand railing in front of us and the bus driver flipped
the lever, closing the doors behind him. Sam held her breath.
The boy had a roguish, rough-around-the-edges look, and a confident air about him that set him apart. I tried not to stare at his pretty light-brown feathered hair.

The bus started up and the boy stumbled forward a step. I instinctively
reached out to help but he had
already regained his balance, chuckling at the misstep. He then headed down the aisle, eying up the back row where Eric and Stanley sat.

“That’s the new kid I heard about,” Sam whispered, giggling. “Lordy, he’s cuuuuute.”

“Hush!” I flashed her a dirty look.

I glanced over my shoulder. Okay, so maybe he
was
cute. Definitely not pretty-boy Loki cute, though. He reminded me of a young Wolverine with longer, shaggier hair just framing his ears and the collar of his jacket perked up around his neck.

He told the two boys to pick other seats and I smiled.
Payback
. It’s a good day when bullies meet their match. Maybe this one wouldn’t pick on me.

“Told ya.” Sam smirked, nudging me in the ribs with her elbow. She’d caught me grinning.

“Shut up.”

I hunched over in my seat—a telltale sign there was an attractive boy around—and pulled my knees up to my chest, pressing my heels into the guardrail in front of me. The new boy’s reflection shimmered in the wide rearview mirror hanging just above the front windshield. I couldn’t help but watch him.

His hand had almost brushed mine when he’d grabbed for the railing.
Almost.
I wondered if he’d noticed me…

“Maybe he’ll be in your class,” Sam whispered, and then gasped. “Or mine. Maybe he’ll be in mine.” Her excited high-pitched voice reminded me of a cartoon squirrel.

“Sam… Please.” I crossed my arms and looked away.

“Feet off the railing,” the bus driver scolded.

. . .

Of course the new boy, Brian,
was
in my class. He had been moving to sit in the very back corner where no one would bother him, but the teacher had asked him to come “make some new friends” further toward the front.

Next to who?

Me
.

When he came down the aisle and walked past, I caught a faint whiff of his scent. I mean, he
looked
all rugged with that I’ve-been-living-in-the-woods-for-a-week kind of style, but with a nice clean smell like that, he obviously hadn’t been.

Mr. Johnson told us to go to Chapter 8. I cracked open my history book and took a mechanical pencil out of my bag. The teacher started rattling off a list of things we needed to know for the next exam.

“Hey. Got a pen?”

“Huh?” I looked up.

“Pencil? Pen? You got one I can borrow?” It was Brian.

“Uh, yeah. One sec.” I dug around in my bag and then pulled out a purple ink pen. It was all I could spare.

“Here ya go.” I stretched my arm out to the side and handed it to him, avoiding eye contact so my dumb cheeks wouldn’t get all pink or something.

“Thanks.” He began scribbling something down and then suddenly pulled back, surprised. “
Purple
?”

I slouched in my seat. “It’s all I have. Sorry.”

“It’s cool. Whatever.” He wrote something in a notepad tucked beneath his book. I couldn’t see exactly what it was, but it definitely wasn’t schoolwork.

. . .

What felt like the longest class in the history of high school had finally ended. I rushed off to the parking lot to meet my mom. I tossed my bag in the back and flopped into the passenger seat.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the clinic parking lot.

Before I could explain, Mom exploded into a full-on rampage about how the new medication had made me sick and how the doctor needed to be more careful with what she prescribed teen girls.

“It’s only a supplement,” Dr. Eliza defended, trying to stay calm amongst my mother’s allegations. “It’s highly uncommon it would cause any issues. Still, let’s do some blood work and see if we can get her on a different dosage.”

I liked Dr. Eliza. I’d had her for a doctor forever, I think. She was really kind and I never felt weird about going to see her. My mother, on the other hand, always looked for an excuse to defend her “perfect little girl.” She had worked as
a
receptionist
at an
urgent
care clinic way back
before marrying my dad. She’s seen and heard her share of medical mishaps, and because of it, doesn’t trust doctors much anymore.

The thought of getting blood drawn made my stomach churn. I
hate
needles. Getting a flu shot practically had me in tears. A quick, measly little flu shot! Now I had even more to worry about. What else would the test reveal? What if the green light came back right in the middle of the doctor’s office?

Dr. Eliza’s nurse
led me over to the lab and
the technician asked me to sit down in a padded vinyl-covered chair. I laid my arm down on the oversized armrest and a lump formed in my throat.

The technician wrapped a thick rubber band around my forearm and twisted it into a knot. “Make a fist,” she said, and
tapped the inside of my arm
a few times. The tourniquet squeezed my arm so hard, I winced.