The Chemistry Test

21. checks and balances

Day Nine

"Oh, my God." Zak whispered, vomit dripping off the table into the pile on his lap.

Staring at him in shock, I tried to find the right words to apologize, but I was at a complete loss. Not to mention the second wave I was bound to heave if I didn't get to the toilet soon.

Dashing for the bathroom, I cupped my mouth to keep myself from unleashing sushi-bile wrath onto any other unsuspecting customers and ducked inside the restroom, locking myself in with a slam of the door.

I knelt beside the toilet, eyes squinted in disgust and pain, and hurled the remaining contents of tonight's dinner into the bowl.

It had come on so fast. There was no way that I would have made it to the bathroom the first time around, but I couldn't help the mortification from consuming me.

Worst of all was the publicity.  Zak, Damon, Gwyn, Hunter, and every other person in the vicinity had witnessed it, and the fact that it happened in my favorite restaurant was the cherry on top of it all.

If there was even the slightest chance that Zak and I were developing a real sense of attraction to one another, it was most certainly gone after tonight. This entire week and a half had gone to waste thanks to my overly active gag reflex.

I wouldn't blame him if he lost any sort of interest--fake or real--after this.

I didn't want to think about the scene I'd just caused, but through the thin walls I could hear the boy's voices, and all I could imagine was the look on Zak's face.

Wiping my mouth with a wad of toilet paper, I slowly gathered myself and rose to my feet. Looking at myself in the mirror, an extra wave of embarrassment overcame me as I examined my flushed cheeks and putrid breath on the glass.

At least my hair still looked okay.

I rinsed my face in my hands and swashed water around my mouth in hopes of washing away the acid taste biting the back of my throat. I didn't know if there was a way for me to redeem myself after this, but the least I could do was get rid of vomit breath.

Knocking sounded on the door.

"You okay in there?" Zak asked, sounding calm for a guy who was covered in vomit. "Can I come in?"

"Um," I patted my face dry with a paper towel and walked over to the door, "Yeah." I cracked the door open to peek up at him. Where I was expecting a frown, I was met with a warm smile as he nudged the door open and slid into the room.

"Thanks." he said, making his way over to the sink.

My mouth was cotton-dry, but I spat out, "Zak, I am so sorry-"

"You're good. Don't even worry about it." He shook his head, running some paper towels under the sink to wipe off his pants.

With my face in my hands, I sighed, "I feel horrible. Really, if you want help with dry-cleaning or-"

"Oh, that's really not necessary." he laughed, patting his pant leg and smiling up at me. "You're fine, Zoe."

"Let me help you." I looked around the bathroom, grabbing him another handful of paper towels and wetting them in the sink.  The poor guy only had one arm to clean the vomit off his crotch, the least I could do was give him some paper towels.

"Are you feeling any better?" he looked up at me, tossing the vomit stained sheets into the trash and taking the fresh ones. "Did you get it all out?"

I laughed, embarrassed. "Yeah, I think so."

"Good." he laughed, patting the excess water off of his pants. "If not, just give me a heads up and I'll dodge it."