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I opened my mouth, but a wave of nausea hit me that was strong enough to make my stomach roll.
“Presley?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling great. Excuse me.”
I barely got out of the room before I heaved into the nearest garbage can.
Dammit.
I was so embarrassed and humiliated it was making me physically ill.
“Presley? Are you okay?”
I tried to breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth. “I’ll be fine.” I spoke through gritted teeth, praying I wouldn’t vomit in front of him.
“Can I call someone—”
“No! I’m fine.” I dug a tissue out of my purse and wiped my mouth before making a beeline for the nearest bathroom.
* * *
Something smelled good, but Aunt Meg wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room when I got home, and I momentarily forgot about my miserable meeting and unsettled stomach. Her car had been in the driveway, so I hurried up the stairs to her room.
“Aunt Meg?”
“In here, honey.”
“Are you oaky?” I stood in the doorway of her bedroom worriedly.
“Just feeling weak today,” she said. “But come tell me about your meeting.”
I sighed, perching on the edge of her mattress. “He failed me.”
“Bastard.” Her blue eyes glittered with annoyance. Her body may have been falling apart, but her spirit was as feisty as ever.
“He said I can re-take that part of the class in the summer if I can find another band to interview.”
“Oh.” Her face brightened. “That’s good news.”
I gave her a look. “Aunt Meg. Where will I get the money? I already have student loans up the butt. I don’t want to take out more. Not to mention, I have to start working full-time.”
“But you worked so hard for your degree. We can get by another few months.”
My shoulders slumped, and I felt a fresh wave of tears coming on.
What the hell was wrong with me? I never cried like this.
“It’s going to be okay.” Aunt Meg sat up. “And get this.” She held up her phone. “Remember that video my friend Ginnie and I did for the Insta-whatever?”
“It’s called InstaPixel,” I said, laughing. She’d only recently discovered that there were social media platforms beyond Facebook. She’d started watching videos on InstaPixel, which was the newest one that had taken the world by storm, and she and her friend had posted something on there last week. I’d been so caught up in learning my new job I hadn’t paid that much attention.
“Well, it got 8000 views.” She paused. “Ginnie said that means it went viral.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I wouldn’t say that’s viral. Viral is more like a hundred thousand. But 8K is really good.” I pulled out my phone and opened the app. “What’s your handle?”
“Eye-Lights with Aunt Meg.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Eye-Lights?” I asked, as I typed it in.
