The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2015 Read Online Free PDF Page A

us in the mirror. And then it came. A splatter of puke all over the sink. Cee leaned over and braced herself.
Blam.
Elle said, “Oh my God, that is disgusting.” Cee gasped. She was just getting started.
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    Elle was next. All of a sudden she spun around with her hands over her mouth and let go in the sink right next to Cee.
Splat.
I started laughing, but I already felt sort of dizzy and sick myself, and also scared, because I didn’t want to throw up. Cee looked up from her own sink and nodded at Elle, encouraging her. She looked completely bizarre, her wide cheekbones, her big crown of natural hair, sort of a retro supermodel with a glistening mouth, her eyes full of excitement. I think she even said “Good job, Elle!”
    Then she went to it with the toothbrush again. “We have to stop her!” said Katie, taking charge. “Max, go get Jodi!” But Max didn’t make it. She jumped down from the third sink, but when she got halfway to the door she turned around and ran back to the sink and puked. Meanwhile Katie was dragging Cee away from the sink and trying to get the toothbrush, but also not wanting to touch it, and she kept going “Ew ew ew” and “
Help
me, you guys,” and it was all so hilarious I sank down on the floor, absolutely crying with laughter. Five or six other girls, too. We just sort of looked at each other and screamed. It was mayhem. Katie dragged Cee into one of the stalls, I don’t know why. Then Katie started groaning and let go of Cee and staggered into the stall beside her, and
sploosh
, there she went.
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    Bugs.
    It’s such a camp rumor. Camp is full of stories like that. People say the ice cream makes you sterile, the bathrooms are full of hidden cameras, there’s fanged, flesh-eating kids in the lake, if you break into the office you can call your parents. Lots of kids break into the office. It’s the most common camp offense. I never tried it, because I’m not stupid—of course you can’t call your parents. How would you even get their number? And bugs—the idea of a bug planted under your skin, to track you or feed you drugs—that’s another dumb story.
    Except it’s not, because I saw one.
    The smell in the bathroom was terrible now—an animal smell, hot; it thrashed around and it had fur.
    I knew I was going to be sick. I crawled to the closest place—the stall where Cee knelt—and grabbed hold of the toilet seat. Cee moved aside for me. Would you believe she was still hanging on to her toothbrush? I think we both threw up a couple of times. Then she made this awful sound, beyond anything, her whole body taut and straining, and something flew into the toilet with a splash.
    I looked at her and there was blood all over her chin. I said, “Jesus, Cee.” I thought she was dying. She sat there coughing and shaking, her eyes full of tears and triumph. She was on top of the world. “Look!” she breathed. And I looked, and there in the bowl, half hidden by puke and blood, lay an object made of metal.
    It actually looked like a bug. Sharp blood-smeared legs.
    â€œShit!” I said. I flushed the toilet.
    â€œNow you,” said Cee, wiping her mouth on the back of her wrist.
    â€œI can’t.”
    â€œTisha. Come on.”
    Cee, I couldn’t, I really couldn’t. I could be sick—in fact I felt sicker than ever—but I couldn’t do it that hard. I remember the look in your eyes; you were so disappointed. You leaned and spat some blood into the toilet.
    I whispered, “Don’t tell anyone. Not even the other girls.”
    â€œWhy not? We should all—”
    â€œ
No.
Just trust me.”
    I was already scared, so scared. I couldn’t bear the idea of camp without you.
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    We barely slept that night. We had to take showers and clean the bathroom. Max cried the whole time, but for at least part of the night I was laughing. Me and