It was 2:45 in the afternoon and the school bell would ring in about twenty minutes. I was anxiously waiting to escape the classroom as the beads of sweat on my forehead were forming at a rapid rate. There was abnormal pain I’ve never felt before right in the pit of my stomach and it was bothering me to a point I wanted to cry. It must have looked odd to the other students since I was writhing in almost silent agony in my seat, but I didn’t care what they thought.  What I wanted -no, needed- to do was to run towards the nearest girls’ restroom and vomit. As soon as the visual images flickered in my mind, I felt my abdomen contract as if vomit was the magic word. If there was something that I absolutely despised, it was the thought of using a public restroom in any circumstance but today, the boiling substance swimming upward through my esophagus told me to make an exception. Closing my eyes and clenching my fists in shame, I quickly debated whether or not I should ask permission to relieve my inner torment. Sighing was difficult when trying to swallow your pride at the same time but I bucked up anyway and shot one of my hands in the air while my teacher, Mr. Wylder, read to the class a passage from some classic American novel he deemed important. Oh God, I wish John Steinback could forgive me but I shall pay much due respect after I liberate myself from the aching in my stomach. Without embarrassment, I spoke as much as I could without chunks of the bile in my throat spewing out: “I need to puke!” To my astonishment, nobody in the class giggled or said a word; my English teacher, looking apprehensive, nodded and pointed towards the door. Hesitating for a mere second, I got up from the uncomfortable desk I sat in and booked it out of the classroom.

Within moments of departing the heated room, I felt the cool outside air whip my face, encouraging me to find a restroom more promptly. As soon as I found the girls’ restroom, not giving a damn whether or not other girls were in it incessantly chatting about unimportant things, I pushed the door open only to find two familiar faces in the confined space; Carmen and Madison. The red-headed Latina waved a little bit before a worried look flashed across her face; this caught Carmen’s attention as she saw me rush towards one of the stalls. ‘God, please don’t let them hate me!’ I thought selfishly, glaring at the open-mouthed toilet bowl mockingly waiting for my unwanted content to be purged. “Spencer! What’s wrong? You aren’t sick of me already, are you?” Carmen asked with a bit of humor and concern mixed in with her  last question. I couldn’t respond as I was busy vomiting uncontrollably into the toilet below my face, but I had some assistance from Madison, who was gently holding my hair back. The look on her face must have been of utter disgust yet it was nice to know she was helping me without any obligation. “Oh god, Spencer. You didn’t eat the cafeteria food, did you? I thought Carmen warned you about that.” She teased, obviously suppressing laughter as I was roughly finishing up necessary business. The dark haired beauty scoffed and walked into the stall where the stench of my vile puke dominated the air around us. It was a miracle that these girls stood beside me as I gave in to the temptation of degrading myself not only in a public place but with an audience. With the strength leftover in my arms, I reached for the walls on either side of me and pulled my weak body up. Both Madison and Carmen kindly wrapped their arms around me when I turned around, and they walked me over to the sinks just a few feet away. My forehead felt extremely hot according to Carmen and there was what looked like a pained expression on her face. I couldn’t help but groan in frustration like the child I was as I washed my face and mouth for what seemed like hours. “I-I didn’t even e-eat anything for l-lunch. I haven’t been f-feeling great all day.” I admitted with the tears in my eyes threatening to spill out. Madison shook her head and patted my back sympathetically. “You should definitely skip the remaining time you have left in class and just chill for a bit. I have to go, however, so Carmen will be your bitch while I’m gone. See ya later, Spencer and I hope you feel better.” With that, the happy-go-lucky teen walked out of the restroom, leaving me alone with a girl that made me feel uncomfortable when we were alone.  “What do you want to do, honey? I’m not much of a comfort source but I’ll do the best I can.” Carmen said with great sincerity.