Following Me by Linde, K.A. (best books to read in your 20s .txt) 📗

someone chasing her through the streetshad stayed with her.  She had emptied the contents of her stomach in thebathroom twice since waking.  She was dead tired, and she just wanted to crawlback into bed and crash, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to shut off herbrain.  As soon as she had tried, everything had rushed back to her all overagain.

She changed into a pair of lightjeans and blue tank top, pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and then coveredthe dark circles under her eyes like an expert.  Her head was still aching,despite taking 1,000 milligrams of Tylenol earlier.  She knew she needed toeat, but the thought of food sent her stomach into a fit.

Finally feeling human enough toleave the bedroom, she edged out into the kitchen.  She poured herself a glassof water and slowly sipped it.

“Good morning!” Garrett calledcheerfully, walking into the kitchen.

Devon jumped and immediatelyregretted it.  “Is it?”

“Well, probably not for you.  Iheard you getting sick earlier.  Feeling any better?”  He opened therefrigerator door.

“No,” she said, shaking herhead.  “How are you so cheerful?”

“Product of working nights, Iguess.  When I get a good night’s sleep, I’m a much happier person.”

“Right.”  She took anothertentative sip of her drink.

“Are you going to be able to gosightseeing today?” he asked, pulling out a full banquet of food.

The night before, they had agreedthat Garrett would take her around the city while Hadley had to work.  Devonreally wanted the chance to be a tourist while she was here, but she knew thatshe wouldn’t get to see everything if she waited for Hadley to get home.

“Not sure,” she said, walkinginto the living room.  She sat on the couch and put her head between herknees.  Seeing that much food was making her want to run to the bathroom again.

“Well, I’ll whip you up somethingthat will make you feel better, and we can get going.”

“You really don’t have to show mearound…or make me food,” she groaned.

“Just some toast.  Drink up thatwater.  It’ll help,” Garrett said, popping some bread into the toaster.

“Okay,” she muttered.

She drank as much as she couldmanage.  He brought her a plate with plain toast and replaced her glass ofwater with another full one.  She took it without comment and tried to choke downthe food.  It did help some, but she wasn’t a hundred percent better yet. Garrett had created an elaborate breakfast plate for himself, and he ate it allin the same amount of time it took for her to finish her toast.

She tried standing again.  Theheadache was finally dissipating, and her stomach was feeling only partlyqueasy.  She could make it through another day.

“You ready?” he asked, comingback for her plate.

“I think so.”

“Great.  We better get goingthen.  Hadley gets off at three thirty today, so we have a good five hours totry to get in the best tourist traps out here before I have to go to work,”Garrett told her.

“Perfect.  If I can make it fivehours, it’ll be a miracle,” Devon said.  She was happy that she had a tourguide even though Hadley was at work.

Garrett shook his head at her ashe stuffed his wallet into his back pocket.  “Come on.  It’ll be good for youto get some fresh air.”

Devon grumbled somethingincoherent before standing.  She grabbed her purse from the table and followedGarrett to the elevator.  Riding the elevator might have been the worst part ofthe morning.  Garrett rested a hand on her back as he warily watched her.  Shewas pretty sure he was expecting her to burst any second, and she felt like shemight.

When they finally reached thebottom of the huge complex, Devon uneasily walked out of the elevator.

“Let’s never do that again,” shemurmured, clutching her stomach with one hand.

“I’ve got bad news for you.”

Devon glared up at him.

“Well, at least you won’t have totake the elevator for a few more hours,” Garrett offered.

“I don’t even want to think aboutit.”

“So, what did you want to see?” He stood at the entrance, debating which direction to walk in.

“Everything,” Devon said with ashrug.

“I don’t think we can seeeverything by three o’clock.”

“The bean thing then,” Devon toldhim.

“The bean thing?”  He looked ather skeptically.

“Yeah, isn’t that what it’scalled?  I don’t know.  I’ve never been there before,” she stated defensively.

“Come on.  You’ll figure it out,”he said, walking toward the river.

She started after him, walkingpast the House of Blues and onto the State Street Bridge that crossed theChicago River.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked,staring out across the water.

“Well, it’s not the bean thing,”he said, shaking his head.  “It’s the Cloud Gate, and we call it TheBean, just The Bean.”

Devon rolled her eyes.  Shehadn’t thought she was that far off.

“It’s in Millennium Park, not toofar from here.”

He strode purposefully across thebridge.  Devon stopped for a second to take a picture.  She knew she couldn’tpost it anywhere online or send it to her mom like she normally would.  No onereally knew where she was, so it would totally blow her cover if she startedposting pictures of Chicago.  But she wanted memories of where she had beeneven if they were just for her.

“While we’re playing tourist, Ishould let you know that directly ahead of us is the famous Chicago Theatre,”Garrett said, pointing out the giant red Chicago sign.

Devon snapped a photo because…hey,why not?

They continued through the busystreets, and despite having to avoid other tourists admiring the prettybuildings, walking seemed to help her stomach.  She still wasn’t prepared forfood, but the fresh air was breezy, and Devon found that moving was helpful.

Garrett directed her down a sidestreet and pointed out the glass exterior to the Joffrey Ballet.  Lookingseveral stories up, she watched the dancers jumping about as they passed by thebuilding.  They exited the cross street onto Michigan Avenue, and MillenniumPark stood across from them.  Garrett showed her the way to The Bean,and she saw clusters of people were already surrounding the massive mirrorsculpture.

From the perfect location, Devoncould see the entire Chicago skyline in the reflection of the structure.  Shecrossed her arms and stared up at it, wondering what she would see if she sawher own reflection.  Would she see herself rounded and