I was fine. Calvin, on the other hand, looked like he was about to die.
He clutched his chest, his breathing ragged and shallow, and collapsed.
The color drained from Corinne's face. Panic seized her. "Calvin! What's wrong?"
Her parents scrambled around him, calling his name over and over.
I pressed down the smile threatening to break across my face and forced urgency into my voice. "Oh no—Calvin took cephalosporin before dinner, and then he drank the spiked juice! We need to get him to the hospital now. Any longer and it could be fatal!"
At that, her mother frantically called for an ambulance.
In the end, Calvin spent three days and three nights in the hospital having his stomach pumped—the exact same ordeal I'd suffered in my previous life. Every moment of agony I'd endured, now his to experience.
Outside the emergency room, her mother slapped Corinne across the face.
"You worthless girl! Why would you put alcohol in the juice? Were you trying to kill my son?"
Her father kicked Corinne so hard she stumbled. "If anything happens to him, I will never forgive you."