“Give me back my cell phone,” my voice said. My mouth was moving and my throat felt right, but my voice sounded deep and harsh.
Amy held the phone above her head and smiled. “No way, pissy pants.”
I felt chilled and I couldn’t move. My body wanted Clara out of me and I felt nauseated. I had guzzled too much green punch and I didn’t pee it all out when I wet. I threw up and couldn’t even kneel to let it out. Instead, Clara moved my chin up and opened my mouth. A stream of vomit flew up and hit the cell phone straight on, knocking it out of Amy’s hand.