When the Heart Falls(109)

"Yeah. I do."

I tap the space key over and over. "What if you audition somewhere, and your acting's great, but they don't like you?"

She shrugs, as if the answer is obvious. "I'll audition somewhere else."

"What if they don't like you either?"

"I'll make them." Jenifer says this with a seriousness I rarely see in my bubbly friend.

"So you don't think I should change my major?"

"Hell, no. Do what you love," she says. "Nothing else matters."

"What if I'm not good at it?"

"Then practice."

"What if people still don't like my writing?"

"Then go find other people." Jenifer sits back on her bed.

"What if they don't like my writing either?"

"Then—"

"Then make them," I finish, smiling at my friend.

Jenifer smiles back at me. "Exactly." She fans herself with her magazine. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

I hadn't noticed before, but my body does feel quite warm. Jenifer lays down, her face pasty and sweaty.

I get up to open the window, breathing in the night air as I look over the lights of the campus. There's a large clock on one of the dorms, its tower sticking straight up into the sky, with the moon hanging just above it. A full moon, bright and glowing, looking as if it's been dipped in powdered sugar then pushed into the sky so hard that some of the sugar sprinkled off, forming a soft white halo around it. When the moon blurs, I realize it's me, that I'm dizzy and feeling weak.

Jenifer moans from her bed. "I think I'm sick."

I try to turn, but my stomach flips like a dying fish inside of me, and I bend over. "What?"

"I must have eaten something bad."

"I ate the same thing, and I'm fine. I'm sure it's nothing." My stomach doesn't agree, and when it flips again, panic takes over. "Oh shit. Run. Run to the bathroom, now."

Jenifer pulls herself off the bed, and we both hobble out of our room and down the hall, stomachs cramping as we fight the food poisoning. "That damn Italian and his dessert-in-a-bag," I say. "I knew it tasted a bit sour."

I push open the bathroom door and hear one of the showers running, a familiar pair of boots and cowboy hat propped on the bench. "Oh crap," I whisper. "This is co-ed. Cade's in here. What are we going to do?" The room steams up, choking me on the heat. I have to get to a bathroom, but I've already embarrassed myself beyond redemption in front of Cade. This. This would be beyond horrifying. I'd rather implode from my own shit than take the world's biggest dump with the sexy Texas Cowboy listening in.

Jenifer, despite being slumped over in pain, peeks around my shoulder to try to get a look at Cade.

I smack her. "Stop spying."

She licks her lips. "I can't. I know it's bad, but it feels so good."

"Gross. Okay, I can't take it anymore. I'm going in."

"No. No, you're not." Jenifer grabs my arm. "You do not go to the bathroom beside a hot man like that."

"We don't have a choice." Oh God. I can't hold it in any longer. I'm going to die. Die.

Jenifer groans. "We can find a different bathroom, maybe on another floor."

"No time," I say as another cramp grips me.

"Winter?" Cade's voice travels through the steam. "Winter, is that you?"

Of course. Of course this is how my life is. I open my mouth to respond, and can't. Instead, I run into the stall, pull my pants down and… Oh God.

It's like evil demons are being exorcised through my ass.

Jenifer covers for me while the vile darkness leaves my body. "No. Just Jenifer. Just me."

As annoying as Jenifer is, I'll owe her for this save.

When I'm confident I've been purged from all evil, I reach for the toilet paper, anxious to get out of there before the stench hits Cade and he comes looking for a dead body, only to find me, wishing I was dead.

But.

Oh.

Shit.

We didn't bring the toilet paper.

"Jenifer!" I whisper in that way that's like a yell, but you hope it still sounds like a whisper. "They don't have any toilet paper in here. Can you get me some?"

Silence.

"Jenifer?"

She bangs on the stall door. "Oh God. I need to throw up."

"Then find a toilet and throw up. Just hurry."

"Can't. They're all taken. Let me in." Her feet shuffle back and forth under the door.

"What? No! I need toilet paper." I flush the toilet, but I can't pull my pants up until I wipe.

"Open up. Please. Open. I'm dying."

Le sigh. I thought this night couldn't get any worse. I was so wrong.

I pull down my shirt to cover myself, hoping I'm not getting shit all over it, then crouch in the corner and open the stall. "Come on. Hurry, though. God."

Jenifer runs in, crashes to her knees, vomit spewing out of her mouth before she reaches the toilet. It sprays onto me, onto her shirt and face, onto the floor, until she finally reaches the bowl. She continues heaving until her stomach runs dry and only bile comes out. Staring into the toilet, she pulls back and speaks at the top of her voice. "Oh my God, it's your shit. I just vomited over your shit."