“Tense?” I ask, seizing up.
“The simulation continues throughout the night,” Coach replies. “It’ll feel more difficult when it’s interrupting your sleep.”
Aunt Maddy giggles. “Ah, you’re gonna have so much fun.”
“Thanks, guys, for putting my mind at ease,” I say, folding my arms.
After dinner, Maddy and I watched two rom-coms back to back. She had banned me from watching, so I’d have more study time. But considering she’d be leaving me for seven days, she kicked the harsh vibes.
Besides, she knows I’ll be staying under Mrs. Nelson’s roof, and she can be strict at times.
At 12.30 a.m. Maddy left for her bedroom, asking me for the millionth time for good luck on her trip. Now that she doesn’t have to concentrate on me or work, the thought of being on the plane is freaking her out.
When Maddy left, Gandalf started up. He’d already had a bottle during movie one, and a changing during movie two.
“Do you need me to come back?” Aunt Maddy calls out.
“No, I got it,” I say, picking up the fake baby. “You just get some rest.”
“Okay, love you,” she calls and then closes her door.
I cradle Gandalf close to my body, and his cries turn into a soft whimper. With a few rocks, he settles back to sleep.
Phew.
I put him down in the carrier beside the bed, and get myself comfy, ready to drift off to sleep.
2.00 a.m.
Gandalf’s annoying cry pries me from my sleep. I rub my crusty eyes and pull myself to the edge of the bed. I peer over at the fussing doll and my head pounds.
“Seriously?” I whisper harshly. “What do you want?”
The cry gets louder. When he raises the volume, that usually means a bottle.
I groan and drag myself out of bed. “Okay, you little monster, if I do this you have to promise not to cry again until 9 a.m.”
I get the bottle from my desk and scoop Gandalf into my arms. It takes ten minutes for him to be satisfied with the bottle. I have to admit, the suckling noises were kinda cute.
The worst part is the burping. It takes ages! And I never know what kind of pressure is correct or leaning toward abuse. Aunt Maddy said it has to be hard, but Coach said mishandling will lower my grade.
Eventually he burps, allowing me to place him back in the carrier without him whimpering.
3.15 a.m.
I’m pulled out of a dream where I’m rollerblading up a steep ramp, about to get airborne. I’m so confused as to why I’m awake. The screeching noise in the background comes into focus, and my blood boils from the sound of Gandalf.
“Ugh. I hate you!” I groan.
I pull him out of the carrier and plop him on the bed. I probably used too much force, but it’s the middle of the freaking night, and I enjoy my sleep.
“What’s wrong with you this time?” I mumble sleepily.
He makes that uncomfortable, cut-off cry, and I think it means diaper change. I guess it makes sense since he recently ate.
In my dopey state, I somehow manage a quick change and get him back in his carrier. He makes more whiny sounds, so I rub my hand against his stomach as I faceplant my mattress. I doze off at the sound of him gurgling.
4.25 a.m.
