Dear diary, the doctor said I’m fine.

I grinned at Dad. “See, you were both overreacting. I didn’t have to miss school.”

“We had to be sure.” Dad turned to the doctor. “And you are sure there’s nothing wrong, no irregularities or the smallest sign of infection?”

“I’m sure. We can run a blood test if you want, but it really isn’t necessary.”

“Emma, could you wait outside for a moment?” Dad asked.

I grumbled about overprotective parents while dragging my feet out the door. Mum and Dad have always done this when we come to the doctors. I only had to wait two minutes before Dad opened the door.

He jumped back a little. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Dad, I don’t care about your coffee addiction or why you talk about it to every single doctor we meet.”

“Right.” He smiled. “Let’s go home, then.”

“Am I allowed out of bed?”

“Of course. Can’t have you getting sick from resting too much.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“And which one of us is a doctor?”

“In linguistics, not medicine.”

Dad shrugged, his wide smile not reaching his eyes. I didn’t ask. Maybe I should’ve, but I’m already on Mum’s bad side. I didn’t want to risk that with him too.

Mum got home earlier than normal and went straight to my bedroom. I was at my desk, working on an assignment. She frowned at me. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“The doctor said I was fine.”

“That doesn’t mean you-.”

“I said she was fine too,” Dad said, looping his arm around her shoulder. “She really was just choking on some water.”

“Did you explain-?”

“Yep.”

Mum sighed. “Alright. Sorry for today, Emma.”

“Does that mean Penelope is still coming over this afternoon?”

“Yes, it’s best you make up for your missed day.”

I grinned and returned to my computer. Mum and Dad left my room, leaving my door wide open. I got up to close it, but stopped myself. They were probably still worried about me. I sat back down and pretended not to notice every time one of them passed my room, ducked their head in, then left as if nothing happened.

When I explained today to Penelope, she frowned. “Have you gotten really sick in the past?”

“I don’t think so.”

She glanced at Dad who was staring at Penelope over his laptop. She looked at her folded hands, then back at me. “Well, it’s not uncommon for parents to get a little paranoid about their kids. I remember my parents freaking out when I didn’t get sick, which didn’t make sense considering we couldn’t afford treatment if I did.”

“That’s weirder than making me stay home over two coughs.”

“Parents worry all the time. It’s when they stop that you’ve got to watch out for,” Penelope said. “Have your teachers emailed the lesson plans?”

I didn’t realise that she was changing the topic. Maybe she was uncomfortable talking about parents next to Dad. “Yeah, I left the print-outs in my room.”

I ran to get them and came back to an extremely tense dining room. Dad was typing loudly and refusing to look up. Penelope was shaking her head and frowning. It morphed into a smile when she saw me and didn’t reappear for the rest of the afternoon. It was another one of those I didn’t ask situations. They’d obviously fought about something, but neither told me what. Dad was probably sick of being called paranoid after I said it twenty times today. Penelope’s lucky that Dad didn’t mention it to Mum. She’d take one tiny slip-up as a reason to stop Penelope coming over.

I wonder what Danny would think about it. I’ll go talk to them now.