Chapter 11

His teasing grin tells me he’s onto me. He’s holding his hands behind his back as though he’s hiding something from me. Then it hits me.

“Elaine called you.” It’s not even a question.

He grins and holds out a paper bag, shaking it to rattle the contents. “She did. Which was a good thing since I already have your ID from the last test I picked up for you.”

I groan. “I forgot.”

“I figured. Go inside for a second and I’ll drop it off on the porch.”

I do as he asks, and when he’s back at a safe distance, I dart out and grab the bag. “Be right back.” I hurry into the bathroom and read through the instructions—they’re the same as last time—sticker the sample container and withdraw the long cotton swab and proceed to swipe it on all requested areas, doing my best to not throw up as I’m rummaging around down my throat so deep it feels like I’m poking my lungs. When the test is safely tucked away, I wash my face and hands and brush my teeth. Then I rejoin Julian on the porch.