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“Apparently,” Lauren murmurs. “I haven’t been out with a guy since Josh—”
Charlie and I groan in unison at the sound of his name. I clench my jaw to keep from giggling while watching Charlie make a big X with her arms. “He who shall not be named!” she cries.
Lauren rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I still haven’t bothered with the whole dating thing. I figure I can save that for after graduation. Or maybe never. Is it really worth it?”
“It was nice at the beginning,” Charlie says with a sweet smile. “Mike was caring, thoughtful. He actually put some effort in his outfits. Sure, khakis make me gag and there are so many uses for button downs, but he tried. Better than tracks shorts and a tank top. But now,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I thought it would be different when he graduated. You would think with all the video games Mike plays, he would take graduating college as some sort of level up.” She says level up with air quotes. “I was happy when he got a job. I just didn’t expect it to be at a movie theater, selling tickets and serving popcorn like some teenager. I was hoping he would find something… Just something!”
“He will find another job,” I say, trying to sound all bright and sunny when all I want to do is run to the toilet to vomit and pee, probably simultaneously. “He needs time. Not everyone has everything figured out when they graduate. Everyone moves at their own pace.”
Lauren bobs her head. “Rachel is right. I have a cousin who worked at a cafe for a year or two after college before starting her career. Now, she makes bank as a beauty guru.”
“That’s all fine and well, but Mike doesn’t have any goals or passions. He has no work ethic.” Charlie leans in her seat, looking utterly defeated. “I think he’s content working at a movie theater in this small town for the rest of his life. Whereas I,” she inhales deeply, her eyes glimmering with tears, “I want to move to New York and become a fashion designer. I love him so much, but I honestly don’t see a future with him.”
Lauren and I share a look. It’s only been a little more than three months since Mike graduated. Isn’t Charlie worrying about this too soon? Some people need time to figure out what they want to do career-wise. Some people spend the rest of their lives doing just that. I suppose, Charlie is really different from Mike, given he’s always been the more relaxed type, whereas Charlie is very type A. She’s always known what she’s wanted to do with her life and how to get it. I don’t understand what she saw in Mike to begin with, but I suppose some people enjoy differing personalities. Mike may be a bit too different for Charlie.
Before Lauren and I can add anything, the door swings open and the professor enters, her face completely red. She huffs and puffs her way to the desk in the front of the class before slamming her purse down.
“Oh, my God,” she gasps before taking out a water bottle and chugging its contents. “My fucking car broke down. Piece of shit lemon my ex-husband left me. I am so sorry I am late.” She glances up at the clock and heaves a sigh of relief. “10 minutes late. That’s not so bad. Alright class, let’s begin before I have another melt down.”
I take out my notebook and pencil. It’s Art History 402, which focuses on the regency era. I was excited when I first signed up for it back in March, but my excitement has since dwindled. It’s hard to focus when I feel like I need to vomit, pee, and eat. The homework is crazy. We have to read fifty pages each night and the professor, known for being both hilarious and kind, also has the habit to ask questions from the reading and give grades according to class participation. I’m finding it more and more difficult to keep up with the homework, working at the cafe, doing my pelvic exercises, going to prenatal appointments, and getting my eight to nine hours of sleep in.
My stomach churns and I clench my jaw, my hand shaking as I try to push away the nausea. Nope, I am not going to run out of this class. There’s only thirty minutes left. I can last that long. I am a strong, independent woman. I can keep myself together. I’m going to be giving birth soon. If I can’t get through this, how will I ever be able to push out a baby?
Sweat drips down my face and I feel my hold cracking. This time when I swallow, I taste bile. I don’t even know what the professor is saying. She’s showing images, yet I can barely focus on them. All I can think about is the toilet across the hall and how much I want to be kneeling in front of it.
“Rachel,” Charlie whispers at my side. “Are you okay?”
I’m fine, totally fine, is what I want to say, but I keep my mouth firmly close and give her a curt nod.
“You’re whiter than my paper. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Totally. I’m totally fine. I just need to make it through this class without getting called on. It’s been like… ten minutes… right? I glance at the clock and I’m immediately filled with dread. It’s been a minute. A whole minute has passed. Nope. There’s no way I’m going to make this. I’m going down. Abandon ship! Mayday! Mayday!
I pop up from my desk, earning a shocked look from the professor and a worried, “Rachel?”
With the speed only the great roadrunner possesses, I ran out of the room and across the hall to the women’s bathroom. Throwing open the door, I don’t even bother to lock it. Still standing, I open my mouth and heave my entire breakfast into the toilet, gagging as I taste regurgitated cheese and bacon. It’s surprising not so bad coming up the other way. I’ve definitely vomited worse.
When my nausea passes, I’m left with a pounding, dizzy head. I slide down to the floor, sitting next to the toilet. I close my eyes and focus on my breath while trying to ignore what bacteria, creepy crawlies, and other gross things could be on this floor.
The bathroom door swings open and I hear Lauren call, “Rachel?”
“Here,” I croak.
My eyes open and I grimace up at her worried face. “Are you okay?” she asks while crouching in front of me.
“I definitely feel better.”
“I volunteered to check on you. I thought it better than Charlie considering she may go into another tangent about how much Mike sucks.”
We both chuckle at that. “Thanks,” I murmur while leaning my head against the cool metal wall.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Some water would be nice.”
“On it,” Lauren says while rising.
A short moment later I hear the faucet running and she’s back in front of me within two blinks of my eyes. She hands me the cup and I down it quickly, loving the feel of water cooling my throat.
