Chapter 18:
It's Gross, But it's Gotta be Done
Suzette burst through the door of her family's apartment to find sheer silence. The kind that sends chills down one's back during a horror film. Curious, Suzette kicked off her shoes and walked toward the kitchen. "Mom? Damien?" She didn't get a verbal answer, but was releaved to see a lavender post it note stuck to the refrigerator. Suzette peeled it off and gave it a read:
Suzette-
Damien and I got pulled into helping Mrs. Gammer at a bake sale. (Ugh!) We should be back by 7:30, it can't come soon enough!
-Mom
Suzette chuckled at her mother's wording. Mrs. Gammer was a sixty something widow who lived in an apartment across the street, above a workout center. She was known for shoving her religion down people's throats, (she literally stuffed a bible in an atheist's mouth once) playing awful opera music extremely loud, and looping all the neighbors into helping out at her various volunteer missions. Usually the Kimberlys were good at avoiding her, but that had obviously and unfortunately not happened that time.
Suzette threw the little note in the recycling bin and unfolded Ivy's handwritten concoction once more. She couldn't believe her luck; with no one home until a half an hour before the auction, she could make the fake vomit out in the open without any unwelcome questions. She began sifting through the cupboards to find her ingredients. Oatmeal? Check. An egg? Check. Raisins? Check. But that was it. Suzette hunched her shoulders and clomped downstairs, it was time to do a Health Mart run for sour cream and split pea soup.
The rather large Health Mart was a bustling place, as always. It's clientele ranged from weed smoking hippies drenched in tie dye, to stuffy lawyers in navy suits. Either way, there was always plenty to look at. Suzette had better things to do than people watch, though, she walked at a quick pace, waving to all the employees as she went. They all knew her because her mother was the manager, after all. Suzette then let her mind wander to how her mother got the day off to go help Mrs. Gammer. Had perhaps her mother called in sick? Suzette couldn't believe she was about to pull the same stunt.
After gathering a large can of split pea soup and some low fat sour cream, Suzette went back up to the apartment. She carefully measured out each ingredient according to the slip of paper and then placed it on heat on the oven's top. After about two minutes, she looked at the mixture with feelings of both disgust and success. The fake vomit was watery with tints of gray and green. It was lumpy for sure, and got Suzette's stomach rumbling. She poured it into a ziplock bag and set it aside. Now all she had to do was wait.
At 7:20, after wasting a day in front of the television and behind the pages of novels. Suzette grabbed her cooking masterpiece and ran to the bathroom. She splashed her face lightly with water, to give her skin a sweaty and sickly appearance. She could hear talking coming from the staircase, and she knew it was her signal. Damien and Georgie would open the door in a matter of seconds. She un latched the ziplock lining and dumped the vomit into the toilet. She got down on her knees and leaned over the seat.
The door opened. Suzette over heard Georgie complaining to Damien about the lack of oatmeal raisin cookies at the bake sale. Oatmeal and raisins. Suzette looked down at the fake vomit, knowing both of those ingredients were in the water below her. She cringed and let out her best hack. "Bleeeechcldafhhiwnaldk!"
"Suzie?" Georgie called.
"I'm in the bathroom." Suzette said, trying to sound as weak as possible.
Georgie opened the bathroom door. "What's wrong?" Georgie took a few steps forward and saw the green blend in the toilet. She backed up and covered her mouth. "You're not feeling well?"
Suzette shook her head. "I'm not, and I feel terrible because I know tonight's the auction-"
"Don't give it a second thought." Georgie cut her off, already half way out the door. "You are staying home tonight!"
As the bathroom door shut, Suzette gave herself a small fist pump of victory. She even allowed herself to crack a smile when she heard her mother shout: "Don't go in there, Damien! It's not pretty!"
YOU ARE READING
Punch!
Teen FictionIt all started with curiosity. But as Suzette Kimberly soon learns, curiosity killed the cat. When she bursts into a suspicious after school meeting between four teenage boys, she wants nothing more than to know what they're up to. But when she disc...
