Free The Fundamental Theory of Us by Alyse Raines Page B

Rosie took off in his truck early that morning, and as soon as he was gone, she showered, dressed, and drove twenty minutes to Blowing Rock, where the nearest museum was located. There were a few closer to Boone, though they were all about oddities and kids’ stuff. She wanted to see some art. Surround herself with the familiar. So she went to BRAHM—Blowing Rock Art & History Museum.
    She spent hours among the paintings, sculptures, and photographs, devouring each in awe. The thing about art, Sawyer realized at a young age, was, yeah, it was subjective, but unless she opened herself up to new possibilities and different views, she’d never see the beauty in each piece. She adored the sculptures because she couldn’t create something like those. The photographs, because she never could get the lighting and angles right. The paintings because these artists were brave enough to look beyond the bad things in their lives and turn it into stunning visual beauty.
    When she left the museum, Sawyer grabbed a cheap sandwich from a deli down the road and spent a few hours walking down the main streets of Blowing Rock. Before coming to North Carolina, she had never been anywhere else outside of New York State. Oh sure, she had taken trips to Paris and London, “family” vacations to St. Bart’s, and even spent six months in Moscow before she started kindergarten. So far, she liked the south best.
    The sky darkened and Sawyer got in her car, heading for home. She tried to spend as much time away from her apartment building on the weekends as she could. Especially now that Andrew was dating Emory. She didn’t want to hear them coming to his place, didn’t want to look out the peephole and see him kissing her. Touching her. The thought alone made her stomach twist. When she got home, she went into her apartment and shut the door. His truck wasn’t in the parking lot. Hopefully Sawyer would be asleep before he brought Emory over.
    She turned on the TV and found a Clark Gable movie, one of her favorites. It Happened One Night had just started, and she settled down on the couch to watch.
    She woke up hours later to a blaring infomercial for some kitchen crap, her stomach cramping and tearing, like it wanted out of her body now . Her temples throbbed a vicious beat as she pushed herself up. The room tilted. A hot sweat broke out all over.
    “Ugh.” Sawyer got up and staggered to the bathroom just in time.
    She threw up her sandwich, followed by her intestines and lungs and liver. She threw up for years. When it was over, she curled up in a ball with her towels and slept next to the toilet. The way she felt, like a pile of shit with a staggering fever, she knew she’d be needing it again soon.
    ****
    After forever of near-death experiences and praying at the porcelain altar, Sawyer woke tangled in a few towels on the hallway floor to someone banging on her door. Pushing to her feet took Herculean strength she didn’t have. The pounding on the door matched the throb in her skull. By the time she stumbled over to answer, she had used up the last reserves of her energy.
    “Holy shitballs, Sawyer!” Rachel blew inside the apartment with Lola on her heels. “It smells like the plague in here and you look like hell. What happened?”
    Lola moved around the apartment, opening windows.
    Sawyer dropped onto the couch. “I think the universe tried to kill me.”
    Rachel examined the deli wrapper on the coffee table. “Or you got some serious food poisoning from Blowing Rock Deli. I could have told you not to eat there, if you bothered answering your phone.”
    “My phone?”
    “Um, yeah. I’ve been texting and calling you like a stalker since Saturday. You promised you’d come to Lola’s show on Saturday night. Remember?”
    Sawyer rubbed her eyes. They felt thirty-seven times too big for the sockets. “What day is it?”
    Lola dropped a full hamper on the floor near the door. “Tuesday afternoon.”
    “Oh shit!” Sawyer tried