The Flynn Effect

13 | highs and lows

Jo

"HI," HE SAYS.

"Bye."

"Hey, hey, relax, okay?" He grabs my elbow. His callous fingers dig into my skin. I move away from him like he's burnt me. "I'm just trying to talk to you."

I fold my arms and frown at him. "Well that sucks cos I don't want to talk to you."

He smiles suspiciously and leans against the wall. "You look good."

"What do you want from me, Craig?"

He drinks from his solo cup and looks me up and down. "Thought you'd wanna hang out, you know. Just like old times."

I laugh. I can't help it. "What's this about? You dump me, we don't talk for months and then all of a sudden, you show up at my table at lunch being an asshole and now, you want to hang out?" I place an air quote as I say the words and he shrugs.

"Just think about it, okay? It's not like you don't miss me or anything."

I scoff and look up at the ceiling before deciding that I'm done talking to him. "We're over. You made that clear enough, Craig. Leave me alone and stop trying to talk to me."

I turn around and walk away from him before heading into the restroom. I lean against the door and exhale, while moving my fingers against my temples. No one is here and I'm more than grateful because the alcohol in my blood hits me with a full force. A thin sheen of sweat breaks out on my head and a rush of nausea grips my throat in a chokehold. I move towards the toilet and open the lid.

I hold the sides of the toilet rim and empty my stomach into it repeatedly until my head starts to spin. I shut my eyes tightly and lean against the wall. The headache doesn't lessen and my throat hurts from all the retching. I get to my feet and rinse my mouth, before splashing some water on my face. I look into the mirror and my face looks ashen. The only colors there are dark makeup around my eyes and the smudges of lipstick Flynn left on my chin from my mouth. I immediately start to tremble when I search around for my purse. I need to check my blood sugar because I really don't think the alcohol is the only thing that's doing this.

I can't find my purse. Only my phone is in my hands. I must have left it somewhere.

"You're so stupid," I grit, my voice breaking as I do so. I need my purse. I need it now.

I head out of the restroom and everything sways and dances before my eyes. I lean against the wall and try to catch my breath. The hallway is dimly lit and the music from the other room bounces against the walls. The screen of my phone lightens and a buzz tells me I've got a message.

The chat bubble blurs and returns into focus as soon as I take it up to my face. It's a message from Flynn.

Flynn: you giving birth in there? I'm outside, in my car. waiting for you. Semia's coming in five. I've got your purse with me. You left it in the kitchen. chop-chop

Relief washes over me since he's with my purse but with the way the ground shifts, I doubt I'll be able to make it to his car. So I walk slowly and bump into people while placing a call to him. My ears are ringing loudly.

"Was it a boy or a girl?" Is the first thing he asks. He sounds like he's smiling. I wish I was smiling.

"Flynn."