Mare Moody - [blank]

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” I ask.

“You were too beautiful,” he says with awe, “I couldn’t get the courage to even look at you in the eye.”

My heart softens. He is honest. I can’t believe this would happen to me of all people. I have always made life harder for myself than it has to be.

“I know it’s creepy but now I have my chance with you and I don’t want to mess it up,” he says hopefully.

My grimace melts and as he looks at my face, his blue eyes transfixed on my ‘beauty’, I can’t help but smile. I can’t believe someone would be this honest. It hurts me. I wish I could ok with it but I have never encountered this before.

Slowly, I walk back over to the bed. I pull off my jeans and lay them on the floor. I lie down and pull the comforter over me. Noah follows and curls up next to me. I don’t look at him. I’m afraid if I do then my brain will fight with me more than it has to.

My stomach lurches and I am thrown awake. A tight pain in my abdomen disturbs my restful sleep. I breath to fight off the nausea but it come back twice as strong in a matter of minutes.

I don’t want to puke all over his blankets. I pull the comforter off of me and run to the bathroom. I don’t know exactly where it is. I wish I had looked earlier. As I run out of his room, I frantically look for any other door in the apartment. Off of the kitchen, I see a small hallway. I pray that the bathroom is in that hallway and I don’t puke in his pantry.

My stomach bubbles and I feel an acidic burp making its way up my throat. I put my hand over my mouth and run towards the hallway. As my feet hit the floor, my stomach grows more uneasy. I run through the opening. There are two doors. One of my left and one on my right. Damnit. The vomit lottery has begun. What’s the winning numbers?

I quickly open the door to my right. My eyes are greeted with white tile and a toilet. Thank god. I pull up the toilet seat as my stomach lurches again. This time a foul taste fills my mouth and vomit bursts its way out of my mouth.

The nausea settles in my stomach, as another spat is thrown into the towel. I feel disgusting. My mouth is covered in stomach acid and my hands are shaking.

I can feel my stomach calm down. I haven’t eaten much so there wasn’t much to expel. I didn’t feel sick last night so I have no idea why this is happening. My head feels heavy. I stand up. My back is throbbing.

I flush the toilet and shakingly walk to the kitchen. I turn the knob on his sink and wash my hands. I pump the hand soap on my hands repetitively. After my hands are scrubbed thoroughly, I drive them with the paper towels sitting on the counter.

My head is pounding but I don’t want to pillage his bathroom for pain meds. I look around for a different solution. I see his home phone lying on the kitchen counter. I pick it up and punch in Tabitha’s number.

It ring for a moment before I hear her voice.

“Hello?” She sounds exhausted.

“Hi, it’s Ana, can you bring me some Tylenol?”

“Ana, it’s 5am.”

Oops.

“Please?” I ask. I know Tabitha. Her sympathy will get the better of her.

“Where are you?” She sighs. I look at the fridge for an address. I can’t do the taxi man trick on an exhausted Tabitha. I see a card hanging off of an old Fire Department magnet. His address is scrawled on the back of it. I recite back to Tabitha like I knew it all along.

“Fine,” she concedes, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She hangs up. I put his phone back down and looks around the room victorious. Then I realize that there is no there to cheer with me so I awkwardly lower my hands.

My stomach rumbles again. No. Please no. I walk down the hallway again but this time I turn to the left. I open the door. Shelves of food are tightly packed into the small perimeter. That could have been bad. I reach in and grab a box of crackers. I shut the door and quietly mumble a thank you.

I walk into the living room and flop onto a couch. I am determined to not vomit again. I open the crackers and pull a few out. My stomach bubbles and I throw them into my mouth. I swallow them quickly in attempt to stop my stomach from expelling anything else. This action could either work or hurt me in the long run.

I sit, eating crackers when I look out of the window and see the sky slowly changing color. I remember when Noah and I watched it the first night we were together. A smile comes across my face. I watch it change from a dark blue to a soft yellow. It is progressive but the end results are as definite as death.

I hear a knock on the door. My pounding head pushes me to open it. For a second, I am scared that somebody else will be at the other side who is not Tabitha. I push the fear aside and open the door.

Tabitha stands in an oversized parka. She puts her hand out. She hands me a box of Tylenol.

“Here,” she says. She pulls a water bottle out of her pocket, “I brought this too.”

I grab both and walk forward to hug her. She takes a step back and interrupts my gesture.

“I want know why you need it before I will hug you,” she frets, “also, why does your breath smell like death?”

I open the door and gesture for her to come in. She apprehensively walks in. She looks over to the door that slightly cracked open.

“Is this that guy?” She asks, “The one from the bar?”

A smile comes over my face.

“Yeah,” I say with a smirk

“Is he still asleep?” She points to ajar door.

“I think so.” I place the water bottle on the kitchen counter.

She nods her head and looks around. She is judging the architecture. I’m not sure if it’s actually her judgemental nature or if she wants to test and see if Noah is a good guy for me to be with. She purses her lips and nods her head slowly. She looks back at me.

I begin to open the Tylenol box in my hands. I pull out the plastic case of pills and pop one out. I throw it in my mouth and swallow. I grab the water bottle and take a huge chug.

“So why do you need that?” She asked, pointing to the Tylenol.

“I puked earlier, my back is hurting, and I have a splitting headache.” I ramble, “But I ate some crackers and the nausea is basically gone.”

Tabitha looks at me with wide eyes. She walks over to me and puts her hand on my forehead.

“You don’t have a fever…”

“Hm, weird.” I shake it off, “it was probably anxiety.”

“Have you guys had sex?” She asks. She looks worried. Her worry makes me worried. She is the sensible and intelligent one in our friendship.

“Uh, yeah,” I say, “twice.”

“Oh shit, you are probably pregnant.”

I freeze. Pregnant?

“No, no way.” I shrug it off. There is no way I’m pregnant. It’s just a freak anxiety thing.

“You have to take a test, Ana.” She looks at me. Her worry is growing. I don’t like where this is going.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have one?” I ask. She looks at with a face of mocking.

“I had Margaret two years ago.” She says, “No way in hell am I having another one anytime soon and any of the ones I had while I was trying for her would be expired.”

“So we have to buy one?” I sigh.

“Yeah, but you might want pants for that.” Tabitha laughs and points at my bare legs. I had bursted out of bed so quickly that I forgot pants.

I laugh and walk back into the bedroom. I search the floor for a second then I pull them on. I walk to the other side of the room and pull on my shoes.

“Where are you going?” A small voice mumbles.

I look towards the bed. Noah is sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He yawns widely and then drops his head onto the backboard of the bed frame.