“I'mnot sick.”I spit into the toilet bowl, wipe my mouth offwithtoilet paper, and sit back against the cabinet, breathing hard.
Emily sinks to the floor across from me, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees.
“Well,this takes me back to college,”I manage, attempting a lame joke.
“Unlessyou've been drinking with a bunch of idiot frat boys, this is not like college.”
“Andyet, here you are, sitting with me while I throw up, just like old times.”
“You'renot day drinking, are you?”A lineforms between Emily's eyes as she frowns again.“Iknow yesterday was super rough and you had to deal with Dean, but?—”
“I'mnot day drinking, Em. Last time I had anything to drink was thatBloody Maryafter those awful, themed shots at yourbacheloretteparty.”
“Oh, come on, they weren't that bad.”
“Yeah, they were. I'mnot sure I ever want to drink again. They were awful.”I make a face, and Emily has to bite back a smile.
“They were not awful. I tasted every one of them, and I thought they were delicious.”
“Okay,you keep believing that.”
Emily sticks her tongue out at me, and I have to laugh before changing position and letting my head fall back against the sink cabinet. I close my eyes for a moment.
“Areyou sure you're okay?”she asks.“Alljoking aside, your stomach was the steadiest in the entire sorority. You were usually the one holding my hair backwhileI puked.”
“I'mfine,”I assure my best friend.“Ilove my new job. My nerves have just been on edge lately. I'm fine.”
“Whatdo you mean by lately?”Emily sounds suspicious, and when I open my eyes, she's peering at me with an odd look.
“Lately,as in, lately. I don't know how long.”
“Areyou saying you've been throwing up before today?”
“Notreally throwing up, more like nauseous. Again, it's just nerves. It's a new job and it's stressful, and Dean won't leave me alone. It's probably just some delayed response to our breakup.You yourself said I should see a therapist after everything that happened.”
I expect Emily to wholeheartedly agree. She's been pushing me to see a therapistaboutwhat happened during my relationship with Dean. But instead, she continues to watch me.
“What?”I finally ask, annoyed at the intensity of her stare.
“Mybachelorette party was,” she pauses as she counts in her head and on her fingers, “elevenweeks ago.”
“Yeah,I know. We had it early because Katya was going to be out of the country closer to the wedding. Remember? You and I argued about the date.”
“You'remissing the point, Clara. My bachelorette party was eleven weeks ago. You're saying you've been feeling sick?—”
“SinceI started the new job,”I finish for her, slowly enunciating each word. Why can't she get that it's just stress?
“The job you've been working at for approximately two weeks, right? That’s nine weeks. Morning sickness usually starts around week seven and gets worse around week nine or ten.”
I can't help the laugh thatburstsout of me.“Morningsickness? Really? Emily, are you nuts? I know your sister is an OB/GYN, but not everything is pregnancy-related.”
She doesn't say a word or try to counter what I just said. She only stares at me with that look on her face.
That's when I feel a shiver run down my spine.
“Emily,no. No way. That's impossible.”But my denial doesn't have quite theconviction that it had before.
“Why is it impossible?”
