An Aces Christmas (The Aces' Sons)

“Not a chance in hell,” he replied as he kissed my forehead.

* * *

A few days later, I was arguing with Rose as I got ready for school.

“I’m not bringing a jelly sandwich to school,” I ground out between my teeth. “The doctors said I was allergic to shellfish. You think my piece of shit school serves shellfish in the cafeteria?”

“We’re not taking any chances,” she replied mutinously, trying to shove the sandwich into my hand. “Take it.”

“No,” I said, lifting my hands above my head to avoid the sandwich. “You didn’t even put peanut butter on it!”

“Peanut allergies are the worst,” she snapped.

“I don’t have a peanut allergy!”

“Well, you didn’t have a fucking shellfish allergy a week ago, either!”

“Oh my God,” I replied, looking up toward the ceiling in frustration. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Rose spat. She snapped her mouth closed while we stared at each other.

We both began to laugh at the same time, but as my laughter tapered off, hers turned into tears.

“Fine,” I said, reaching out. “I’ll take the stupid sandwich.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she sobbed, lifting a hand to wave me off as I tried to hug her. “I’m fine. It’s just the hormones.”

“You know they did all the tests,” I said soothingly. “They figured it out. They’re sure it’s shellfish.”

“Why would you eat shitty crab puffs at the dance anyway?” she cried. “That’s just asking for food poisoning. Have I taught you nothing?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, trying not to laugh at her out of control emotions. “I won’t ever do it again.”

“Well, fuck, I hope not,” she replied. “Unless you want to die.”

“I have an EpiPen in my purse,” I reminded her. “And Charlie knows how to use it if I can’t.”

“This is the worst,” Rose said, wiping at her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to be homeschooled? You could stay with me. Forever.”

I stared at her in horror. “No, thank you,” I replied as politely as I could. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you and check in, okay?”

Whatever argument she was going to make was cut off by the sound of a car horn in front of the house.

“My ride’s here,” I said. “Gimme the sandwich.”

“Tonight, we’ll test the peanut butter,” she said glumly as she handed it over. “And then tomorrow, we can add it.”

“Sounds good,” I said, throwing the sandwich in the top of my backpack. “I’ll see you later.”

I hurried out of the house before she could try and stop me. When my dad said there was a good chance Rose wouldn’t want to leave my side for a while, I hadn’t realized how literally he’d meant it. She’d been hovering all weekend and had already kept me home from school Monday, just to make sure I was feeling okay. I was going to have to talk to him tonight so he would get her to back off. Beyond the sore spot where they’d given me a shot of epinephrine and the bruise on the inside of my elbow from my IV, I felt completely fine.

“We’re gonna be late,” Draco called, doing a drumroll on the top of Roxanne. “Hurry up.”

“Good to see you, too,” I shot back, hurrying toward him. “I feel fine, thanks.”

“Don’t be a whiner,” Draco joked. “Geez, you spend one night in the hospital and suddenly you’re a fragile flower.”

“She almost died, asshole,” Charlie said, scowling as I sat down beside her.

“I’m fine, Charles,” I assured her, pulling my backpack onto my lap. “Let’s go.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Curtis asked, turning to look at me. “You scared the shit out of us.”

“Yeah,” I said, giving him a small smile. “Sorry I ruined the prom.”

“Are you kidding?” Draco asked. “I’m swimming in sympathetic tail.”

“You are so fucking disgusting,” Charlie replied, over-pronouncing every word.

Draco and Charlie bickered for the rest of the ride to school, but I barely noticed them. The only thing I could focus on was the way Curtis glanced at me in the rearview mirror every few minutes, as if checking to make sure I was okay.

I wasn’t super excited that he was worried I would keel over at any second… but I couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at how concerned about me he was.

Everything was fine at school—almost shockingly normal after the weekend we’d had—until the period after lunch. I don’t know if it was the tone of the murmurs during class or the way people seemed to be watching me, but my stomach twisted with anxiety. Something felt off.

By the time class ended, my skin was crawling. As I stepped into the hallway, the sensation got worse and instead of looking for Charlie like I usually did, I kept my head down and raced to the bathroom. A girl laughed as I pushed past her, but I didn’t make eye contact as I hurried toward the mirror.