when I come home that afternoon natalie is lounging on the couch, painting her nails a pastel blue. she gives me a nod of acknowledgement without looking away from her nails.
I don't even bother saying anything, the whole walk home I could only think about one thing, syd. the way his lips curved up into maybe the cutest smile known to man, the way his wire rimed glasses were always at an angle... the way he looked at me. I wasn't very good at reading people, for example I didn't even know my parents had a bad relationship until my dad left, but I was pretty sure there was something significant in that smile.
"we're out of food," natalie informs me abruptly without looking up from her fingernails.
"I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow," I say dismissively.
"what are we going to do for dinner?" she asks in annoyance, "I am not going hungry."
"that's what the cafeteria is for."
"cafeteria food doesn't agree with me," natalie whines.
"have you ever even eaten there before?" I say defensively. the food is horrendous but I've really grown tired of natalie's constant orders and complaints.
"for your information," she says icily finally looking up, "I have and I nearly died." she claims with extra emphasis on the died.
"buy your stupid groceries, I can pay you back for half tomorrow."
"um?" natalie says displaying her nails to me, "I'm a little preoccupied."
I roll my eyes and mutter mutinously, "how did you even get into university?"
"I'm sorry," she snaps, "this is about groceries not my intelligence."
"there's no intelligence to talk about," I snap back, eager for a chance to direct my anger at something.
"wow, you sure got me," she mutters dryly, "I don't know how I'll ever recover from that."
"of all the people on campus I had to be roommates with you," I say angrily as I walk past.
"you think you're the perfect roommate?" natalie responds her voice unnervingly calm, "I'm barely in this room, I can't stand how messy it is."
"then try cleaning it!" I yell angrily as I sit on my bed, never wavering my gaze from the back of natalie's head as a sharp pain hits my head, "and maybe next time try not leaving me stranded at a party in the middle of nowhere."
"you're such a drama queen," natalie complains, "it was like, a half hour bus ride."
"well I had no way of knowing that," my voice grows fainter as a dull ache forms in my head. I close my eyes and massage my forehead in an attempt to appease the pounding.
"you chose to come to that party," natalie says in a matter of fact voice, "I'm not a babysitter."
I lie down, pulling my pink comforter over my head, too preoccupied with my headache to continue arguing. the room is silent until natalie watches friends from her laptop, and I doze off listening to dialogue that blurs together and an echoing laugh track.
I wake up disoriented and stiff, my migraine worse. natalie seems to have left, leaving the task to amble up to the medicine cabinet and pull out Advil my responsibility.
I bite my cheeks to hold in the stream of curse words that almost escape when I realize that the bottle is empty and I am Advil-less.
I check the time on my phone, 11:30, and pray to the heavens that the shoppers drug mart several blocks away is open.
before I leave the comfort of my messy room I switch my skinny jeans for a pair of worn out sweatpants, take off my bra, and shove my earphones in.
***
the oppressive fluorescent lighting in the shoppers drug mart seems to be the creation of satan and I wander queasily through the medication aisle eager to find my Advil and return home.
I finally wrap my fingers around the little bottle of pills breathing a sigh of relief.
"carolyn?"
I recognize the voice immediately and prepare the most convincing smile I can before turning around.
"hi adam," I meet his hazel eyes and hapless smile, hyper aware of my dishevelled and clearly braless state.
he wears a orange-red employee vest with a little golden name tag, the horrendous colour brings out the hazel in his eyes and I curse myself for the way I find myself wanting to run my hands through his soft dirty blonde hair.
his eyebrows knit in concern when he sees the Advil.
"are you having those stress headaches again?" he asks.
"yeah," I say simply, urging myself not to think about how I always used to get them earlier on in our relationship, and he would always play doctor. he had told me he had always wanted to be a doctor when he was little but had chosen to major in computer studies instead of pursuing a career in medicine. that was before our relationship became a chore.
"I started working here yesterday," adam informs me, I'm suddenly finding it hard to look him in the eye and choose to look at the stubble on his chin instead, "anyway feel better."
"yeah, you too," I say stupidly, I quickly turn and walk away.
the lump in my throat doesn't go away, even after I arrive home, take an Advil and allow myself a few tears before going to bed.
----
Sorry this took so long but thanks for all the nice comments anyway!
xx
