Black & White [Jeremiah Fisher]

twenty-six

ROWAN

I think I'm sick is the last thought that comes through my head before I run for the bathroom and spill my guts into the toilet. A few tears escape the corners of my eyes in the process. I grip the toilet paper holder with one hand and lean the other on the stall wall.

Fuck this.

I flush the toilet, blow my nose, and head to the sink where I debate if I should swish my mouth out with this dirty ass water or risk walking over to my water bottle which is in Jeremiah's hands at this very moment.

I'm taking the dirty ass water.

I cup my hands under the running water and bring it to my mouth, shamefully. I rinse, spit, and repeat.

How humiliating. Jeremiah smiles at one girl who has her hands all over him and I end up hurling like a fool.

I should not have had this one little incident bother me so much, but it has. It has brought up a picture of the past that did not sit well with me.

Pathetic. I'm pathetic.

I let out a shaky breath while studying my pale face in the mirror. Mascara was smudged under my eyes and small sweat beads lined my forehead.

I look rough.

Taking my thumb to my under-eye, I wipe the excess mascara off my face. Not even a moment later, I heard a knock on the door, then a voice said my name.

"Row, you in here?" I see Jeremiah poke his head in through the mirror, his normal happy self switches to a look of concern. I quickly turn my head down and wipe my under eyes once more.

"Yeah, sorry, I think I'm a little dehydrated." I lie, finally picking my head up so our eyes meet for the first time. I watch the blood drain from Jeremiah's face as he approaches me. He appears very worried, which does raise some concern on my end. More stupid thoughts run through my brain as he hands me my water bottle which is now full.

"Drink some, I put some electrolyte powder in it as well." He sends me a kind smile, and as bad as I want to be worried and upset, it's impossible now that he's standing in front of me being his normal sweet self.

"Thank you, I appreciate it. Now, can we get out of this bathroom before I die of heat stroke?" I fan myself a few times, looking around at the bathroom we stood in. It's small, dirty with cobwebs and dead bugs, and the only ventilation is from the windows above the two stalls. It's your normal park bathroom that you definitely would only use in case of emergencies.

Jeremiah chuckles, opening the door for me and a rush of cool warm air brushed against my flushed cheeks.

I feel a hand on my back, causing myself to turn towards him. His eyes drift to mine before looking back ahead of us.

"You absolutely killed it out there though, I can't wait to see you in action this fall." His eyes are on mine once again, soft and full of excitement, a smile plays on his lips.

My head feels fuzzy. Did I just hear him right?

I unintentionally open my mouth a gap.

He just made a comment on the future.

My heart rate quickens, trying to think of something to say back, but all I come up with is, "Yeah, I'm a great ball handler."

I immediately want to slap myself across the face because my dirty, on my feet, joke did not come out playful at all. Instead, I feel all the muscles in my face stay put as if I was just injected with a numbness shot.

His comment, I was not expecting his comment and I should be happier than ever right now, but I'm terrified. We haven't laid out the straight facts yet and he goes and says this?