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There goes the weekend

I woke up to the sound of someone pounding on the dividing door between my room and Scotts. I look at the clock on the nightstand, what the hell it's almost 1:30 in the morning. I get out of bed and open the door.

"Thank God! I'm soo sorry!!!" Scott pushes past me, almost knocking me over. He runs to my bathroom and slams the door behind him. The next several minutes are filled with sounds of him vomiting and cussing the restaurant they had eaten at earlier. He finally comes out and looks like he's been run over by a Mack truck.

"What's wrong?" I ask concerned, but I already knew. I was grateful I skipped dinner. 

"Food poisoning..." he moans. "I knew that meat tasted funny. But they swore it was perfectly fine." 

"Oh, shit. Are all of you sick?" I ask looking to the dividing door again.

"Not just me and Johnathan. Mom had cheese enchiladas." He flops across the foot of my bed. 

"Well, that's good at least. Do you want to stay

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