Coping with Bieber

Chapter 7: Stomach Virus

*3 weeks later*

"Are you ok?" Justin stands over me as I am facing the toilet bowl, releasing all the contents of my stomach into the water.

I nod.

He grabs my hair in his hands before pulling it away from my face.

He reaches for the phone on top of the sink with one hand, as the other remains wrapped around my hair.

As I begin to sit back up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I feel the bile rising up my esophagus yet again. Quickly, I aim the vomit into the toilet as a grunt escapes my lips.

"Hi, can you please bring some water up to my room?" Justin says over the phone before hanging up and rubbing his now empty hand over my back.

Once I am sure that there is nothing else for my stomach to throw up. I slowly attempt to get up, stumbling in the process.

Justin catches me before I hit the ground. He picks me up and carries me over to the bed just as a knock on the door is heard.

"Room service." A voice is heard coming from outside the room.

Justin gently places me down on the bed before rushing to open the door.

"Thank you so much." He says as he grabs the bottles of water and walks back over to me.

"Here baby girl. Drink some, please." He takes the cap off before putting the bottle by my mouth.

I sip on the water, immediately feeling it make its way back up my throat and out of my mouth, falling onto the floor.

"I am calling an ambulance." Justin says as he pulls out his phone again.

I shake my head.

"I'm. ok. Just. Stomach virus." I say between breathes.

"Hi, my girlfriend has been throwing up non stop and is turning pale." he says into his phone as he looks over to me.

He gives the phone operator the hotel address before scooting closer to me and placing the phone down.

"We're going to get you checked out and you can go back to eating all of your food and mine." he runs his hand through my hair as I close my eyes and lay my head back onto the pillow.

"And do not even think that you are going to be part of the show tonight." He continues, immediately causing my head to shoot up and my eyes to open.

"Justin-" I begin to say before being cut off.

"No." He says, end of conversation.

**

"Ms. Salvatierra?" A doctor knocks before walking into the room that Justin and I are in.

I am laying on a bed as I am connected to an IV machine, because the doctor was afraid I was dehydrated.

"Estela." I say and softly smile at the doctor.

"I am Dr. Shouls. How are you feeling?" He looks over to me and offers a small smile.

"I feel good." I lie.

"Stop lying. You aren't going to dance tonight not even if the president himself comes into this room and clears you." Justin looks over to me and says.

I sigh.

"I feel weak. Dizzy. Light headed." I answer the question again. Truthfully this time.

"I figured as much." The doctor says. "You are very dehydrated. You might need to spend a day or two here until we monitor -" The doctor cuts himself off before clearing his throat.

"Mr. Bieber. I apologize but can I speak to Estela privately for a moment?" Dr. Shouls says as he looks over to Justin.

"Is everything ok?" Justin stands up and steps closer to the doctor.

"Is something wrong with me, doctor?" I grow worried as I try to sit up on the hospital bed.

"Sorry but I really should only speak to the patient regarding the findings of the lab results."

"Jacob." Justin says, referring to the doctor.

"Justin." Jacob says back, giving away their acquaintance.

"It's ok. I will tell you as soon as I know." I speak to Justin as he sighs in defeat and walks out of the room.

"I will be right outside if you need me." He closes the door behind him.

"So, Jacob." I familiarize myself with him.

"Estela. When was the last time you had your period?" Dr. Shouls asks directly.

Confusion covers my face.

"Not so long ago. Must have been a couple of weeks." I say as I gather my thoughts. "Let me check." I say as I reach for my phone and check the app that tracks my periods.

"The last period that I checked in was ... October 28." I say as I look up to the doctor.

He stares at me before writing down notes on his pad.

"Estela, do you know what's today's date?" He questions.

"Yeah. Show #32." I say, unaware of the actual date.

"December 8th." The doctor answers his own question. "According to my calculations, you missed your period." He continues as realization begins to hit me.

"Estela, you're pregnant." 

***

Oh snap!!!

Yes, you just read correctly. 

Right in the middle of a tour. Eek!