Help

twenty

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Please note I am not a doctor
If I get anything wrong blame Google
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F L O R E N C E

"How're you feeling baby?" Dominic wraps his arms around my shoulders on our walk back to the car. We went out to a very fancy steakhouse restaurant on the other side of Toronto. It's away from the hustle and bustle of the nighttime city.

"Okay," I reply with a small wheeze. Truth is I don't even know how I'm feeling. I mean before we ate I could barely stand. Today was too long, but I faked being okay for Dominic's sake. He deserves to celebrate an achievement he's spent his whole life practicing for. "I feel better after eating."

"That's good, if you are feeling better tomorrow I say we try to go skating again." He suggests, a hint of excitement in his voice.

My smile drops, skating is really scary."Oh yeah, great." I try to be cheery but it just comes out pitiful and embarrassing.

He laughs pulling me into his side. "Don't worry, it'll be fun. I mean you also have a pretty good coach, he's on Team Canada." He whispers bending down to my ear.

"Tell the slippery ice and the sharp skates that you are on Team Canada, maybe then I won't eat shit on the ice." I grumble.

He starts talking but this thick wave of fog settles over me. Now I can't hear him, and I'm winded. My vision tips back and forth from a blurry view of the parking lot we are walking on to thick cloud of black nothingness. I try my best to listen and to regain my composure.

After a couple seconds of muffled talking I can start to hear again. Dominic is talking about how excited he is about being on the team. I can't concentrate on him when all I can think about is the throbbing pain in my stomach and the heavy headache that appeared out of nowhere that now looms over my brain.

"Hey are you okay?" He stops talking and looks down at me. When he bends down to my height his head duplicates. I see two fuzzy versions of Dominic both talking and panicking.

I don't blame him. The other three stayed back for a few minutes at the bar. They wanted to get a drink and Dominic wanted to take me on a small walk.

"Dom." I whisper. His heads merge together to form one clear head. He has his phone to his ear frantically talking to someone. He pauses and looks at me yelling at the other person to shut up. "I'm really tired."

"It's okay, Flo it's okay. They are on their way and then we can go home okay?"

It all comes out of nowhere, because the next thing I know I'm bent over, puking up everything I ate for dinner in the middle of the steakhouse parking lot. Dominic's holding my hair back and holding me up. I'm too unsteady.

"Massimo!" Dominic shouts across the parking lot.

"What's wrong?!" Massimo yells back, he's halfway to us.

"She's confused, throwing up, her face is really red, and she's unstable." He tells him once he reaches us.

"Massy, I don't feel good." My head pounds.

"Shit shit shit." He mutters under his breath. His fingers are pressed against my neck, checking my pulse. "Florence you're going to hyperventilate, I need you to breathe."

I didn't even know I was breathing too fast until he said that. The headache fog too strong for me to even process what's happening around me.

"Emilio start the car," he orders before looking at me again. "Let's go to the car okay?"