Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

23: approximately two hundred grams

Despite being blessed with no allergies, I knew enough about them- to know that something was very odd about this situation.

More than thirty minutes had passed since Elliot consumed the very first scoop of the tiny peanut crunches mixed in with Oreo crumbs into the ice cream.

He hadn't displayed any symptom remotely close to even the mildest allergic reaction. And peanut allergic reaction could kill someone.

He was perfectly normal- save for the blanching of his face when he heard from Jessica what he'd eaten- and save for the throwing up he was doing.

The sound of the toilet flush came, followed by the sound of tap water.

I stood in front of the door, holding the pile of items I'd scooped up from the living room sofa. Before I could think of with an appropriate reaction, the door opened. Elliot stood at the threshold, water still dripping from his face.

For being a tennis player and captain who often played outdoors, he was awfully pale. But standing there under the dimmed lights of the corridor, he looked even paler than usual.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, closing the door behind him, not looking at me.

Like someone preparing for interrogation. Wearily. His voice was coarse.

Awkwardly, I stepped aside to let him head to his room. "...So you're not dying anytime soon?"

Elliot leveled me with a look that made me wonder if my choice of words should've been slightly gentler to someone who'd just puked his guts out.

Then, an amused smile touched the corners of his mouth.

"Sorry to disappoint, but no." He smelled like peppermint mouth wash.

"That's fantastic. I don't need someone dying in my house. Here's your stuff." I thrust the pile of items onto his arms. "Put down your stuff in your room and come downstairs. The courier men are waiting."

"The what men?"

"They'll be going to your house and taking all your stuff to this house. They need to verify your place of residence. Basically that you're really Elliot Lockwood."

Elliot's lips parted slightly. "You're serious?"

"I haven't asked my mum yet but we can do that later. Whether you stay at a hotel or at my house, doesn't matter. You need to get out of there."

After making sure Jessica's door was closed, I lowered my voice and continued.

"I know you might be staying at that house because you might be able to get some helpful...evidence about your father, or for whatever reason, but you can only do things when you're still breathing."

Perhaps because of his sustained exposure to the public eye, but this boy was frustratingly proficient at controlling his facial expressions.

Now, his face was simply inscrutable. It was a closed book- a tightly locked one.

His eyes steadily, unwaveringly looked into mine- so unabashedly.

"What." I might've sounded too defensive.

"I was poisoned." Putting two hands into his pockets, he looked down at the living room from the railing, absent-mindedly.

"I'd thought my whole life I was allergic to peanuts. But apparently, I wasn't. Deprived of a pleasure for many years of my life, very sadly," he deadpanned.

A third party and my stomach seemed to sink to my feet. Yet he spoke about it like relaying the dating news of a celebrity- no.

He wasn't nonchalant about it. He'd thrown up.