THALIA

20. Preach

• THALIA •

Dinner has been pretty smooth sailing so far.

It was hard not to notice my considerably smaller portion. I'm hungry as well. I don't miss some of the boys looking at my meal confusedly.

Gio leans in slightly closer, "you not hungry?"

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. "Nope. I am hungry. Just, um... I guess Esmerelda sort lf asked the chef to give me a smaller portion." I mumble the last part, I hope he didn't beat and just moves on.

"She what?"

I sigh and repeat myself, slightly louder but not by much.

"Wait, whatt?"

I repeat myself. Again. And again. And again. This boys beating.

"Wait wait what, one more time, swear."

"SHE ASKED THE CHEF TO FIVE ME A SMALLER PORTION, OKAY?"

I sigh, shutting my eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry." I tell him, embarrassed.

I can feel everyone's eyes on me. Most of all hers. The murder in her eyes is enough to make me scared. I won't lie. I am scared. I'm terrified.

"Are you okay, you look..." Gio asks, not finishing his own sentence without being interrupted by hurricane Esmerelda.

"She is fine, God. She's overreacting. She's always been a bit of an attention seeker, haven't you, Thalia?" She gives me a look that screams if you dare disagree , you're in deep shit.

I gulp. "Um, yeah. I guess. Sorry."

I see Gio's eyes flit between mine and Esmereldas  expressions. He looks puzzled. Not going to lie, literally everybody else does too. Except for Peter, who's enjoying his soggy Yorkshire pudding that is drenched in gravy.

"See! Drama queen." Esmerelda laughs.

"I need to go to the bathroom." I mutter before standing up and making a runner for the toilet.

I go straight upstairs, remembering the fact that I couldn't find a toilet on the ground floor.

I open all the doors past Gio's room and when I finally find one, I run in, lock the door and collapse onto the tiled floor. I immediately open the toilet lid and throw up my little dinner.

I throw up three times before leaning back against the wall, hugging my knees to my chest.

I could kid myself and tell myself I've thrown up because the food was off. But that's not it. I'm just scared. Really fucking scared.

A knock on the door startles me. "Hello? Thalia? It's Matteo, can I come in?" He asks, I don't miss the little bit of concern in his voice.

I quickly look in the mirror and check to make sure I look decent enough before unlocking the door.

Matteo instantly scans my body from head to toe. "You okay?"

I simply just nod.

"Sure?"

I nod.

"Definitly?"

I nod.

"100%?"

I nod.

"You sure, because you looked pale. Still do. And why does it smell like barf in here?"

I open my mouth to make up some bullshit excuse but he pushes past me gently towards the toilet. "Oh my god, you were sick."

"Please, please don't say anything to anyone, Matteo. Okay? I'm fine. Honest."

"Was the food bad orrr?"

I shrug, "don't know."

He looks unbelieving, I don't blame him. I'm a shit liar.

"Sure you don't."

"I don't."

"Mhm."

I shove his arm playfully, "shut up."

He laughs, "no thanks."

I roll my eyes, "let's go." I try to shove his rock hard body out the compact bathroom but the man won't move.

"Not so fast. Why were you sick, huh?"

"I. Don't. Know."

"Yes. You. Do."

I drop my hands by my side. "I don't."

"Tell me."

"There's nothing to say, Matteo."

He acts as though he's deep in thought before answering. "No, I think there is."

"Please, Matteo, just give it up."

He rolls his eyes, "we're not done."

Yes we are

I follow him out the small, cupboard-like room and then down the staircase.

As we go to sit on the sofa, everyone eyes are pinned to us. "You okay, T?" A concerned Nadine asks.

"Yep. Yes. God I'm fine, guys."

"Drama queen. I told you." I overhear Esmerelda say to Rich.

Okay, calm. Be at peace, Thalia.

"I swear she deliberately hurts herself for attention."

Okay, that is where I draw the line.

I get up off of the sofa and storm over to her. Ready for war. Fuck it, right? She's gonna do something bad to me later anyway.

"Are you serious?"

"What?" She replies nonchalantly, sipping on her white wine spritzer.

I roll my eyes, " you know what. How fucking dare you say I hurt myself for attention. How dare you talk shit about me like your a year 3. Grow up, Esmerelda. Grow the fuck up. Stop hurting people to make you feel better. It is sick. It's disgusting. It's childish."

"Preach!" One of the boys shouts from the back. I smile at that.