Covet (Clann)

sausage chunk was perfectly spaced in an uninterrupted circular pattern as if arranged there by a robot.
    But the smell. Oh lord, I wanted to hurl.
    We took our seats at the table, with Anne’s parents choosing to stand behind their daughter due to the lack of chairs.
    “Bow your heads,” Mrs. Albright commanded.
    We all bowed our heads for prayer, even Michelle, whose family didn’t go to church. Silently, I added my own prayer that I would somehow get through this meal without spewing all over the table.
    And then the ordeal began. I took the smallest nibbles I could manage under Mrs. Albright’s eagle eyes, using my fingers to tear the slice into smaller pieces so hopefully it would look like I’d eaten something.
    I glanced up and caught her frowning at me. “Does it taste all right?” she asked.
    “Oh! Sure, it’s great!” I pasted on a smile and forced myself to take a healthy bite, chew and swallow.
    My prayer was answered…sort of. I didn’t spew all over the table. But I should have asked not to be sick at all. I held it down as long as I could, then muttered an excuse about needing something out of my truck and all but ran out the door. Anne found me hunched over by my truck’s tailgate under a lovely sunset, holding on to the ends of my ponytail with one hand and my nose with the other as I tried without success to puke as quietly as possible.
    “I’m so sorry,” I gasped in between retches. “Please tell your mom her cooking is fine. It’s not…”
    “Wow. You really can’t eat food anymore, huh?”
    Miserably I shook my head. “It sucks so bad. I used to love pizza!”
    “Why are you holding your nose? I can’t smell anything.”
    “So it doesn’t come out my nose.”
    “Oh gross.” She awkwardly patted my back. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you. I’ll tell them you just came out here to help me get the four-wheelers ready.”
    “Four-wheelers?” I took the water bottle she offered and rinsed out my mouth as my stomach reluctantly settled down again.
    “Yeah. You’ll see. I’ll be right back with the girls.” Anne ducked inside the house. I had just enough time to move away a couple of yards and paste on a smile before she returned with Carrie and Michelle in tow.
    “I thought you wanted to have cake and presents,” her mother was loudly complaining.
    “Later, Mom!” Anne yelled back before pulling the door shut behind her.
    Great. I was screwing up her birthday. “Sorry,” I muttered to her as Carrie and Michelle walked ahead of us toward the quartet of four-wheelers parked at the other end of the building.
    Anne waved off my apology. “Aw, don’t worry about it. We’ll get to the cake and stuff later. Let’s go have some fun first. Um, if your stomach’s up for it, that is.”
    “It’s fine.” I refused to let this stupid vampire business mess up her party any more than it already had.
    Michelle hung back and bumped her shoulder against mine. “New diet, huh?”
    Before I could come up with an excuse, she said, “You know, you should never lose weight just to get a guy back. Not even for him .”
    “I didn’t… I mean, I’m not dieting—”
    Michelle continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “Of course, the competition is pretty tough this time. Bethany’s so tiny, and they’ve been seen together all summer now. And everyone says she’s a shoo-in for Charmers captain next year, too.”
    He was still dating Bethany? My shoulders slumped. Before me, his longest relationship had lasted all of two months.
    “But don’t you worry about it, because obviously she’s way too short for him,” Michelle added with a wave of dismissal as she hopped onto a four-wheeler like a pro. “He’ll get a backache having to bend over to kiss her all the time. He’ll get tired of it in no time and see how perfect you two were.”
    At the thought of Tristan kissing Bethany, my stomach threatened to rebel again.
    Anne stopped explaining how to start the four-wheeler to Carrie. “Michelle, don’t be dumb. She’s not on a diet. Especially not for Tristan Coleman!”
    I was surprised how much hearing his name hurt. But I’d have to get used to it. I would hear his name all the time when school started back up.
    Anne showed me how to start my four-wheeler and make it go and stop, which was all easy to do since it was an automatic. No shifting or clutch work required, just push the lever-type button under my thumb to go.
    “Don’t drive behind anyone,”