*shorty! it sucks, sorry. major writers block recently, and I've been crazy busy. but anyway. here ya go.*
Justin holds my hair back as I throw up. I've been bent over the toilet for hours, and I feel miserable.
"Oh my God..." I moan. I feel like crap. "I feel like crap."
He chuckles. "I can tell."
"It's not funny."
"Sorry."
I finish puking up the contents of my stomach and sit back. "What's wrong with me?"
He sits next to me on the floor. "Maybe you had something bad to eat."
"Or maybe I had too much to drink."
"Yeah, about that. You normally don't drink a lot, do you?"
I slowly shake my head. "No, not really."
"Well, you smelled like alcohol. Like, a lot, a whole lot. Like you'd drank an entire bottle of vodka."
"Well, somebody gave me a drink, they said it was vodka and Red Bull, but I couldn't taste the Red Bull at all."
His fists clench. "Who gave you the drink?"
I shouldn't say anything, I really shouldn't. But I can't put up with a whole bunch of crap right now, I really can't. "Alex."
"I knew it." He starts to stand up. I grab his arm and stop him.
"Justin, don't. Not right now. I need you." I clutch his arm tighter, digging my nails into his skin as another wave of nausia passes over me. "Oh my God."
"Nic? What's wrong? Are you feeling sick again? Here." He pulls my hair back like a ponytail, and tilts me gently toward the toilet. I throw up again.
"Get me some medicine."
"What do I get?"
"Something that will make me stop puking, you moron!"
"Okay! Sorry!" He hurries out of the room. He returns a few minutes later with some pills. "Here; take these. I got them from Lindsay. She says she takes them after she's drank too much."
I take the pills with a cup of water and immediately feel better. "Oh my gosh, are these like magic pills or something?"
"I guess." He laughs.
I stand up slowly, and Justin helps me. We walk to my room and I lay down on my bed. "Oh my goodness, my bed is so soft. I love my bed, don't you Justin?" I have to admit, I might be a little bit drunk.
He laughs and smiles. "Yes, I definately love your bed." He lays down next to me. "I love you, Nicolette. Are you too drunk to understand that?" He's still smiling.
"No, I'm not. I love you too, Justy-Wusty." I grin.
We just lay there, don't say anything, till eventually I fall asleep in Justin's arms.
"Wake up, sleepy head," Justin whispers in my ear.
"No."
"Yes. Get up. You have to go somewhere with me."
"Not now. Later."
"No, now! Get up!" He starts jumping on the bed, and pulling covers off me.
"Justin! Oh my God! Stop it! I'm hungover, I spent all night throwing up, and I'm tired. Could you maybe act your age for once?"
He grins. "Nope."
I glare at him. "I hate you. And turn off the light."
"Come on, Nikki," he whines.
"Oh my goodness, fine, whatever." I get out of bed and walk to my closet. "So where are we going? What should I wear?"
"Anything. Just come on, we're going to be late! And we're going to a pool party, so bring a swimsuit."
I sigh. "Alright. Get out."
"Why?"
"Cause I'm gonna put my swinsuit on under my clothes!"
"I think I should stay."
"Out."
He look really disappointed, but leaves. Smiling, I change out of my pajamas into my turquoise Tomas Maier Triangle string bikini. I pull on a pair of white short-shorts and a black and white horizontal-striped loose, flowy tank top. I slip some white flip flops on my feet, then grab a big white tote bag and stuff a towel, sunscreen, sunglasses, and some extra clothes in it.
I walk out into the hallway, where Justin's waiting. "You ready?" he asks.
I start to nod, but then my stomach lurches, and I drop my bag and run to the bathroom. I throw up again and again and again.
"Nicolette?" Justin walks in. "Oh no, again?"
I can't reply. I lay down on the floor next to the toilet.
"Nic, you're really pale. Are you okay? Maybe we should get you to the hospital..."
I weakly nod, then throw up again. Justin takes my hand and helps me up. He grabs a bucket to take in the car with us, then helps me into the car. On the way to the hospital, I throw up a couple more times.
"Alright, we're here." He helps me out of the car and gets me inside, where they immediately get me into a room.
Justin stays by my side the whole time. I feel like absolute crap. I want to curl up in a ball and die.
Finally, the doctor comes in to tell us what's wrong with me.
"You have food poisoning," he says. "You ate some bad shellfish. That's all. You should be better in a few days."
"Thank you, doctor," says Justin.
The doctor leaves, I throw up, we go home, I throw up again, and I fall asleep. Then I wake up and throw up again.
It's going to be a long few days.
