The Calculating Stars (Lady Astronaut, #1)(56)

This isn’t the problem, except that he’s an asshole and a coward.”



“You didn’t say that to him, did you?”



The headache I’d been fighting all day spiked and ran a line of current through my right eye.



“No.”



Nathaniel scowled.



“No.



I told him I would talk to you.



And I am.



We’re talking.”



“I’ll stop doing interviews.



I’ll call and cancel things as soon as I get home tonight.”



“Stop?



I don’t want you to stop.”



“But if it’s affecting your job…”



His anger transformed to horror.



“No—no.



It’s not you.



I’m not angry at you.



Clemons is the one who’s out of line.



And it’s because what you’re doing is working.



He spent the majority of the time ranting about how he’s getting criticism for not including women in his plans, and pressure from some pretty influential people to add them.



All of them talked about having seen you or listened to you or read an interview with you.”



My stomach churned.



“I’m so sorry.”



“You haven’t done anything wrong.”



“But if it’s getting you in trouble … I don’t want to cause any problems.”



I held up my hands, but they were shaking, so I folded them in my lap.



This was just like being in college again.



Every time I stood out, it made someone angry, and now it was causing Nathaniel problems too.



“I’ll stop.



It’s fine.



I’ll stop.”



“I’m not asking you to stop!”



“I know, and I love you for that, but still—” I swallowed, tasting bile at the back of my throat.



The room was too warm, and my headache sent lines of green and white across my right eye.



“I mean.



I don’t need to prove anything.



If I keep going, it’ll be bad for morale.



Distracting.



The astronauts don’t like having me out there.”



“Parker asked you to talk to the Girl Scouts!



Aside from expressing some jealousy that you’d been on

Watch Mr. Wizard, even he admitted that you’d done a good job.



In his usual way, I mean.”



“

He watched the show?”



I was standing.



I didn’t remember standing.



Had

everyone seen me on television?



My stomach was a fireball of tension, and seemed set to launch itself up my esophagus.



I tried to catch my breath, but all systems were critical.



“Tell him I’ll stop.



Tell Parker that I’ll ask Don to invite him next time.



I’m so sorry.



Tell him I’m sorry.”



Nathaniel was staring at me like I was some sort of freak.



I was messing everything up.



His mouth hung open, and his brows were drawn together like he’d never seen me before.



“Elma…”



I vomited.



Noisily, and without discretion.



What little I’d managed to eat at lunch spattered in messy chunks on the linoleum floor of his office.



Nathaniel flinched back, and my stomach heaved again.



I managed to make it to the trash can, but the damn thing was wire frame.



“Oh God.”



He had me by the shoulders and braced me as I threw up again, sobbing.



“I’m sorry.



I’m so sorry.



I’m sorry.



I’m sorry.”



“Hey … hey, sweetie.



No.



Shush.



No.



You have nothing to apologize for.”



He smoothed the hair back from my face and kept murmuring at me.



I have no idea what else he said.



But he eventually got me calmed down and sitting in his office chair.



He knelt in front of me, holding both of my hands.



I don’t know what his face looked like because I was too ashamed to lift my eyes.