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I don’t want to vomit. Not in front of him.
“Everything okay?” Eli asks, one eyebrow raised.
“No,” I whisper.
“Uh-oh. Stomach?”
I give him a helpless look, then nod.
He jumps up and lifts me off of my bed. It takes about four strides for him to get me to the bathroom. When he sets me down in front of the toilet, I slide to the floor.
“Leave,” I beg, unable to look at him. I’m mortified and sick, and I don’t know if I can handle the combination. “Please.”
“It’s okay.” He goes down on one knee. “I’ve been around an entire team of hungover hockey players more times than I can count. I’m pretty sure I can handle this.”
Seconds later, I have no say in the matter, because my stomach lurches violently, and that’s it—everything which went down comes up again.
Eli holds my hair away from my face and rubs my back while I’m in the throes of misery.
A few minutes later, it’s all over, and I’m spent. Leaning my head against the seat, tears stream down my face as I reach up and flush the bowl.
He hands me a water bottle, and I take it gratefully as I sink back against the wall.
“I’m mortified.” I take a sip of the water, then grab my head.
“Don’t be.” He pauses. “Think you’re done?”
“God, I hope so.” I struggle to my feet, and he reaches to steady me.
“I need to brush my teeth.”
Eli keeps hold of my waist and walks me over to the sink. I brush my teeth and rinse with mouthwash, making a mental note that I’ll need to buy replacements of both, so I don’t re-infect myself later.
I turn to face him and lean back against the sink. “Um, I should probably use the facilities before I go back to bed. I’ll be okay by myself.”
“Okay. Yell if you get dizzy or whatever.”
“I will.”
After he leaves, I sit down to pee and rest my head in my hands. There’s nothing quite like throwing up your dinner in front of your crush. I’m so embarrassed that I don’t know if I’ll ever recover. Now, anytime he looks at me, he’ll think of me hurling up chicken soup.
Lovely.
I flush the toilet and wash my hands, then carefully make my way over to the door. I can't believe how dizzy I still am. This is ridiculous, and I’m over it.
Eli’s waiting for me outside of the door.
“Let’s get you back into bed,” he says softly, wrapping his arm around me again. Which would be heavenly if I weren’t a total mess and hadn’t just worshipped the porcelain god in front of him.
I climb into bed and pull the covers over me. I’m not freezing anymore thanks to the medicine kicking in, but suddenly I’m incredibly sleepy and can barely hold my eyes open.
Eli notices and turns off the overhead light.
“Mind if I use my laptop while you sleep?” he asks. “I need to get started on my history paper.”
“Eli, you don’t have to stay,” I protest. “Really. You’ve done enough.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have anywhere to be tonight.”
