All the Days of Her Life by Lurlene McDaniel Page B

I go off to college?”
    Lacey was ashamed of mentioning Katie’s health—the one thing she hated most for people to mention to her. “Sorry. I lost my head for a minute. Of course you should go away to college. Where do you want to go?”
    “That’s the problem. No one’s offered me a scholarship yet. I could use my Wish money for tuition, but I’m still holding out for the possibility of scholarship money. Plus an athletic scholarship would make my parents much more inclined to let me go off. Which brings me to why I called.”
    “You want a contribution from me to the Katie O’Roark scholarship fund?”
    “Very funny. No, guess where the high school national track competitions are being held this year?” Katie didn’t wait for Lacey’s guess. “Miami,” she cried. “And even though the season’s just started up here, our girls track team is seeded number one in the state. If we win the state, then we come to Florida.”
    “Somehow I have no doubt you’ll be down here. When’s the big event?”
    “Not till May.”
    Lacey felt a slight letdown. It was mid-March. She wished she could see Katie sooner. All the things that were happening to her seemed too complicated to discuss over the phone, and she’d never find the time or energy to write it down in a letter. “Well, I hope you get to come. You know if you do, I’ll be in the stands cheering for you.”
    “I’m writing Jeff and telling him too. I know he’s transferred to the U of M. I guess you’ve made a point of not seeing him.” Because Lacey paused before answering, Katie added, “I thought as much. I still think he cares about you, Lace—although I can’t figure why. You treat him like a nonperson.”
    “Don’t nag. I have my reasons.” Lacey quickly hurried to talk about the play and the fun she was having at being part of Todd’s exclusive crowd. “He may ask me to the prom,” she finished.
    “Garrison’s asked me to our senior dance, but I know Josh expects me to go with him.”
    “And you should. Josh is your guy.”
    Katie mumbled something about “ruts” and “same old routines,” but Lacey was having difficulty paying attention. “I’ll call you after opening night,” Katie said. “You can tell me how the play went. And how brilliant a job you did on the makeup.”
    Lacey said good-bye and headed immediately to the bathroom. There, a wave of nausea swept over her that was so intense, Lacey began to retch and vomit into the toilet bowl without even having toforce herself to do it.
I have to get better
, she told herself. Too many things were going her way, and she didn’t want to get sick and blow it all now.
Hang on!
Katie used to tell Amanda. “Hang on,” Lacey repeated to her flushed-looking face in the bathroom mirror.

Ten

    T HE PLAY OPENED on Thursday night and the buzz of excitement backstage ran through the cast and crew like an electric current. Lacey moved from person to person applying stage makeup to members of the cast, feeling as if she were moving through a thick, clinging fog. Her mouth felt dry and parched, and no amount of water seemed to slacken her thirst. On top of the thirst, she also felt nauseated.
    “I could use a little help here,” Todd snapped.
    “You’re not the only person going onstage tonight,” Terri countered as if she sensed Lacey was having trouble keeping up.
    “I wasn’t talking to you, Terri.”
    Lacey stepped between them, saying, “I’ll handle it.” She quickly drew lines on his forehead, a technique to age him for his role.
    “After the performance tonight, I want to take you out,” Todd said, eyeing Terri. “Someplace private.”
    To Todd, “private” meant being alone with no danger of interruption. “We’ll see,” Lacey said, knowing she wasn’t in a mood to be with him. “Tomorrow night would be better.”
    “It’s not better for me.”
    She chalked up his bad temper to first-night stage jitters. “We’ll talk about it after the play,” she