Page 28 of Draft Pick

She made me think of things that had nothing to do with my career or the ramifications of saying, “Fuck it, I’m quitting football and putting my actual degree to use.”

Maybe I’d be a teacher.

I liked kids.

My dad would have a heart attack.

Or maybe even worse, he’d disown me as his son, redirecting his attention on my little brothers after I’d failed him.

I shifted with discomfort at the thought. I wasn’t stone-hearted. I didn’t want to lose my dad’s respect, but I wish he’d treat me like a son and not a commodity.

I released a long breath and checked my watch. Time to hustle to my class, or I’d get an earful from my professor about my tardiness.

Before pushing open the door to my class, my last thought was hope that Starlie had a great senior year.

She deserved nothing but happiness.

Even if I couldn’t be the one to give it to her.

Oh God,I was going to be sick.

Again.

Another wave of nausea rolled over me as I leaned over the toilet bowl, doubly sick when I realized it'd been way too long since this bowl had been scrubbed, and barfed my guts out.

Though, there shouldn't be anything left in my stomach to eject because I'd been throwing up since I opened my eyes.

Danielle poked her head in, and I stared at her through blurred vision. "You sick or something?" She asked, suggesting when I nodded glumly, "Maybe you've got that summer bug that's going around."

"Maybe," I said, cursing the bad timing. I promised Renee I'd cover her shift tonight at the restaurant, but I felt like warmed-over dog poo right now. "I can't seem to hold anything down. You better keep your distance in case I'm contagious."

Danielle pulled the hem of her shirt over her nose. "Oh, God, you're right. I can't afford to get sick."

"Neither can I," I croaked. "Can you bring me some saltine crackers?"

"Sure," Danielle said, leaving and returning with the box and pushing it toward me with her toe. "Anything else?"

I shook my head. Crackers were all I could stomach. The idea of anything else made me want to puke my intestines out. Maybe I had food poisoning. I'd never felt so violently ill in my life, but I didn't have a fever, so perhaps it was something I ate.

When I was sure another wave wasn't coming, I left the safety of the toilet bowl and dragged myself to the sofa, clutching my box of crackers to my chest as if they had the power to save me.

Danielle, sitting across from me, eyed me with sympathy, shaking her head. "Are you going to call off?"

"I don't know. I'm going to give it a few hours and see if I feel better by tonight. I don't want to flake on Renee."

"You're a good person," Danielle said.

"Doesn't feel like it when I must be paying for something I did in a past life," I groaned, biting a corner of the cracker, realizing I hadn't felt great yesterday either. I frowned. "Is it possible to have food poisoning several days in a row?"

Danielle shook her head. "I don't think so. It's usually pretty fast if something you ate didn't agree with you and I doubt you'd keep eating the same thing that made you sick."

That made sense. But if it wasn't food poisoning, was it the stomach flu? "Weird, but after I throw up, I feel mostly okay. Just the thought of food makes me instantly sick."

Danielle grimaced and grabbed her doodle pad. "That's what happened with my friend Penny. Turned out she was pregnant." She chuckled at the memory as she began doodling. "What a nightmare."

The crackers turned to sawdust in my mouth. My period had never been regular but I never placed my faith solely on the wonky works of my uterus. I always used protection. There was no way I could be pregnant.

But the memory of that day at the beach jumped out at me — not that I'd been able to forget — and I swallowed a bubble of bile as it threatened to pop from my throat. "I need to take a test," I managed around the tightening of my throat.

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