In addition to constant nausea, I was feeling fatigue like nothing I’d ever experienced. I could sleep ten hours at night and still crave a nap in the afternoon. I’d never been a nap person, but they'd become necessary in the last few weeks if I wanted to get through the day. I crawled into my bed, set the alarm, and vowed that when I woke up, I’d be better. If it were possible to manifest not throwing up every day, I would do almost anything to make it happen.
I actually heard my alarm, which was a miracle. I jumped out of bed and felt fantastic. Maybe the manifestation had worked. I dressed in casual khakis and a polo shirt with my favorite loafers. It was a more casual outfit than I usually wore, but I was tired and just wanted to be comfortable.
The new semester mixer was in full swing by the time I got to theBRSUC, or as I liked to call it, theBursuck. Officially the building was named theBunny Rodgers Student Union Center. It was a hideously modern eyesore of a building in the middle of campus. Surrounded by stately red brick buildings and historic trees, the steel and glass monstrosity was the perfect example of why new money could never buy class and old money couldn't buy taste.
I had to go to the top floor to get to the ballroom. Everything was fine until I stepped out into the cavernous hallway and was immediately assaulted by the smells of finger food. My stomach heaved, but I held my breath, hurried past the tables, and ducked into the meeting room.
Searching through the crowd, I spied my friend Robert and made a beeline to his quiet corner away from the crowds. Each department in the college of Arts and Humanities had a table set up for students to come by and meet professors or mingle with other students in the department, but neither of us had any interest in mingling.
Robert tipped his drink in my direction and pointed to the glass of wine next to us. "I got you a drink. The bar line was getting pretty long, so I got you and Thomas something before it worsened."
I shook my head and tried to hide the fact that I likely still looked a little green. "Thanks, but I'm good. Think I have a stomach bug or something. The nausea has been awful."
Robert cocked an eyebrow and gave me a once-over. "You sure it's a virus?"
Feeling sensitive about the possibility I might be dying, I wanted to snap at him, but I shoved that down and gave a halfhearted attempt at amusement. "Yes, I'm sure. It's been going around."
"If you say so." His implication might have seemed insensitive, but we'd had this conversation a few times since I'd told him about my diagnosis.
"Look, I don't know what's going on with me, but I'm pretty sure I can tell if I have a stomach bug."
"Well, you know many illnesses were misdiagnosed for years because of false beliefs spread by films and TV writers."
I rolled my eyes at this familiar argument.
"Just like the historical inaccuracies in old movies?"
Robert's eyes sparkled. "Exactly!"
At that moment, Thomas came over and joined us. After a few minutes of greetings and banter, Thomas bumped my shoulder with his.
“Where’s your glass of wine?”
“My stomach feels off. I either ate something that’s disagreeing with me or maybe coming down with something.”
“Let’s hope you’re not sick cause we’re right here beside you, and I don’t need your germs.” Thomas made a dramatic step away from me toward Robert.
Annoyed but also amused, I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him. “I’m not sticking my tongue down either of your throats, so I think you’ll survive.”
After the third degree from the guys and a lecture on me needing to at least try to eat, Thomas told us about his new student that was making ithardto focus.
I knew the feeling very well. The last few weeks, everywhere I went, I saw Joe. We had flirted from afar for years, but our explosive encounter seemed to have opened the floodgates of my emotions. If I saw Joe, I wanted to follow him, be near him. And if I didn't see him, I felt…bereft was the only word that fit. The guys were still talking about Thomas and his sexy young Alpha when I got a familiar feeling much stronger than it had ever been before.
“Good grief! I just got chills.”
“The manopause.” Robert laughed. “Still with your belly the way it is…”
“Can we please go back to Thomas over there falling on his face?” I did not want to revisit my issues. I lost track of the conversation yet again and tried to catch up.
I slapped my hand on the table harder than I'd meant to and had to shake the sting out. “Wait! Did you or did you not fuck your hot student?”
Thomas frowned and looked disappointed he had to admit that he hadn't. I'd bet there was an impliedyetat the end though.
"But you really want to, I'll bet."
I chuckled, but at that moment, someone walked by our table with a plate piled high with various foods from the feast in the hall, and I felt my stomach rebel. Covering my flipping stomach with my hands, I felt the uneasiness rise up and up until the saliva in my mouth felt like I'd turned on a faucet. The guys kept chatting, so maybe they hadn't noticed. Maybe it would pass until I could make my apologies and go home. Just when I thought I was out of the woods, Dr. Hoffman, the religious studies professor, passed by with his plate filled with wings and blue cheese dressing.
That did it
