“Well, not every day, but enough that I don’t want to put it away.”
I was tempted to point out that my toothbrush, which I used multiple times a day, was never left out, but it was a pointless argument and I knew it. “So how long do I need to keep this on?”
“Twenty minutes. I’ve got class in a half hour, so I’m leaving in a few minutes, but just wash it off with warm water, towel dry, and put this on.” She held up some sort of intense moisture serum and then scooted me out of the bathroom so she could get ready for class.
I shuffled over to the couch, plopped down, and got comfortable. I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until a knock at the door woke me up.
“Coming,” I called, heading to the door. I pulled it open to see Emma standing on the other side.
“So it’s true, then?” She sounded sad, but I had no idea why.
“Um, what’s true?”
“The whole gay thing.” She whispered the word gay like some sort of homophobic government agency had tapped the apartment and she didn’t want me to get waterboarded until I spilled all the secrets of the LGBTQ community. “I’ve been wondering about it since Soph told me, but I refused to believe it. Maybe it was wishful thinking.” She sighed and gave me a shy smile, probably feeling embarrassed by her admission.
“Wait, how do you know it’s true?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do I give off like a gay vibe or something?” I was suddenly very concerned about it. I know had to pretend I was gay, but I wasn’t gay. Until now, I’d never had someone look at me and assume that I liked men.
She brought a finger up slowly to point at me. “You’re in a charcoal face mask.”
“Shit.” I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling where Sophia had mummified it before she’d left. I would kill her if this didn’t come off. “I actually don’t usually do these, but Sophia made me put it on before she left for class, which was like”—I looked at my watch—“an hour ago.”
“That’s cute. Did you let her do that when you were little? Like practice her makeup skills and stuff?” I could practically see the lightbulb appear over her head. “Oh my God, is that why you’re gay?”
“What? No!” Was this how she thought sexual orientation was determined? “I just like men. That’s all.” I’m not sure how my life had become…whatever this was. “Are you staying or going? I need to get this stuff off my face before it eats away at my flesh.”
S O P H I A
I’d been sitting in psychology class for less than twenty minutes when my head started pounding and my stomach began to twist. “Are you okay?” Carter asked when my insides made a noise that sounded like a lion sitting down to devour its recent kill.
Since there was no pretending it didn’t come from me, I said, “Yeah, just hungry.”
I knew that wasn’t it. I’d eaten a bagel and cream cheese an hour ago, and the thought of food made my stomach turn in a way that made me wonder if I’d ever have an appetite again. I swallowed hard, took a small sip from my water bottle, and silently prayed to the vomit gods that they’d find someone else to punish today.
Not only did I absolutely not want to get sick in front of Carter and the other twenty or so people in our class, but I didn’t want to be out of commission in the middle of the semester. I couldn’t be out of commission. I had a GPA to maintain, and a stomach bug—or whatever this was—might mean time away from class and falling behind in my work.
“You want some of my protein bar?” He was already reaching into his backpack to pull out a chocolate peanut butter bar.
“I’m really okay,” I said, but my stomach still said differently.
It was gurgling and cramping, and I knew if I didn’t get the hell out of here soon, whatever was inside me would be coming out. I didn’t even get a chance to say where I was going before I jumped out of my seat, grabbed my belongings, and bolted to the nearest bathroom.
Not much satisfaction came from vomiting in a public restroom. Even though I should have felt some sort of relief, the thought of having my face dangerously close to a seat where countless people had placed their asses was enough to make me want to throw up all over again.
I didn’t leave the bathroom until I was certain I had nothing left in my stomach, and by the time I made it back to the apartment, I felt like my body had rid itself of every ounce of fluid it had. I was desperate to replenish it.
Opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water, I couldn’t have been more thankful that Drew was working this afternoon. The last thing I needed was for him to see me like this. God only knew how much worse this would get before it got better.
Already sure I had a fever, I couldn’t think of anything other than my bed. I couldn’t even bring myself to text Carter and ask him to tell the professor I’d left because of a sudden illness. Sophia Mason wasn’t someone who left class abruptly without an excuse.
Though evidently I was.
I don’t even remember falling asleep, but I must have. I woke up two and a half hours later with a splitting headache. Other than that, I felt much better. I was at least sixty percent. And that was like fifty percent better than I’d felt when I’d left class.
I took a long drink of water, feeling the liquid make its way through my body and hydrate me almost immediately. I just needed to brush my teeth and take a shower, and I’d probably be up another five percent.
I was still a little dizzy as I made my way out of my room, or Brody’s room, toward the bathroom. Stopping at the hall closet, I grabbed a clean towel before pushing open the bathroom door the rest of the way.
But the thought of a hot shower was squashed as soon as I saw Drew standing in front of the toilet.
“Oh my God!” I quickly backed out of the bathroom and shielded my eyes like I’d witnessed a murder and was scared I’d be killed if I’d been caught watching it. “Why didn’t you shut the door?” I yelled once I was safely outside.
“I didn’t know you were home.”
I heard the toilet flush, the sink turn on, and a few moments later, the door swung open.
Don’t look at his… Jesus, look up.
What the hell was wrong with me? It was like I half expected his penis to still be out when he exited the bathroom.
“Did you wash your hands?” was the only thing I could come up with.
“Of course I washed my hands. I’m potty trained.”
“Oh, um…I’m sick.” I pushed past him, and once I was inside, I locked the door and turned on the shower.
What the hell had my life become?
D R E W
To say I felt awkward about what had happened was an understatement. It wasn’t that I cared that Sophia saw me peeing. She’d only seen me from behind, so there wasn’t much to see anyway, but her response to it was causing me anxiety. And I wasn’t an anxious person. She clearly wasn’t feeling well, and I probably hadn’t helped.
She was in the shower close to forty-five minutes when I finally got up the nerve to knock and ask if she was okay.
“Yes” came her terse response.