I scrub my face as I sit on the sofa, laptop on, staring at the screen, where a video about beekeeping plays.
After being stung as a kid, I blew up like a balloon. Had to be raced to the hospital. My allergy to them was severe. Then one time in the Hollywood Hills, I had another sting. It wasn’t as violent, but my lips still blew up to the size of tires. As I read now, allergies are something that can be outgrown. I wonder if I’ve outgrown it. I look outside. Probably not a theory I should try when on my own.
That’s why I’ve lived in cities all my life. As much as I love nature, it isn’t really my friend. I grew up in New York, now based in LA, so bees haven’t been a big concern in those concrete jungles.
I scroll through more information, searching for allergies until my eyes hook on an article about venom immunotherapy. Frowning, I read through the first two lines and immediately grab my cell, calling Hudson. He’s my best friend from LA who moved back to Whispers with his son and is, conveniently for me, now the local doctor here.
“What?” he answers. We don’t need niceties; I know he loves me.
“Venom immunotherapy.”
“What about it?” he asks with curiosity.
“I want it.”
“What?” Now there’s confusion in his tone.
“I want to try venom immunotherapy.”
“Okaaay. Why is that?”
I sigh. “I’m allergic to bees, remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” He chuckles. “I still have the photo of you on my phone, waiting for the perfect time to use it against you.”
“You wouldn't.” I can’t believe he still has that. The one from LA, with my lips bloated and my face so swollen, my eyes closed. I’m sure the gossip pages would love to get their hands on it. The headline would probably say something about me getting cosmetic surgery rather than having a bee sting. But they never let the truth get in the way of a good story.
“Of course I would.” I smile. I’ve missed him.
“So, can you do it?” I’m keen to get started. Nikki loves bees. Bees are important to her. And since bees could kill me, I need to fix this issue now.
“Why? Got a movie coming up in Australia or something?”
My brow pinches at that. “Does Australia have bees?”
“Sure. Every deadly animal comes from there.”
“No. Not going there.” Thank God. That sounds terrible.
“Well, why?”
“Can't you just let me trial it?”
“Sure, let me just ring bee headquarters at the hospital and book you in.”
Exasperation has me groaning. “Hudson.”
“Sutton,” he mocks.
“Fuck. Fine. I want to get over my allergic reaction and the internet says that this is ninety-eight percent effective.”
“You’re right. It is. But why now? Why do you all of a sudden want to be free of your bee allergy?”
“Why not? I’ve lived in a concrete jungle all my life, but now I’m in Whispers and Whispers has bees.” I haven’t seen any, but I'm sure they’re around.
He hums. “True… Just seems a bit sudden.”
I ignore his hidden questioning. “Can we start today?”
