Chapter 35
Elle
Iwake up feeling… off. Archer and I loaded up my car full of boxes of stuff I decided to take home so my mom could finally redecorate my bedroom.
Now we’re on the road with all my priceless childhood mementos and a very large, very poorly painted picture of me as a Disney Princess.
Along with my childhood treasures my parents gave me new ceramic cookware because they read about microplastics coming off the nonstick pans and demanded I throw away my set that I bought in college.
My trunk is packed with our weekend bags and various odds and ends from my parents, while my backseat houses my cookware and my Disney portrait.
Needless to say, it’s jam packed in here.
Maybe it’s the lack of airflow that is making me nauseous.
But that doesn’t make sense since I’m in the passenger seat.
“You okay? You’re quiet.” Archer’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, I just feel weird. My stomach feels off.” I reply taking a sip of my water.
“Maybe it’s from all the super-rich food we ate yesterday at the party.” Archer suggests.
“Maybe…”
“I can stop off at the next rest stop and grab you a Sprite or a ginger ale, maybe the carbonation would help settle your stomach.”
“Yeah. That would be good.”
We drive along the highway, and I just can’t shake the feeling in my stomach. Maybe I’m getting car sick? I’ve never been car sick before though.
We continue to drive, my audiobook playing in the background, but I can’t focus.
My hands and feet are tingly. My stomach begins to roll.
“Archer.”
“Yeah?”
“Pull over.” He must hear the urgency in my voice because he pulls off onto the side of the interstate. I barely get the passenger door open before I empty the contents of my stomach all over the side of the road.
Archer, God bless him, is unphased. He has the car in park and is holding my hair back as I heave.
“Was it my driving?” Worry lacing his tone.
I can’t talk. I only shake my head ‘no’, as I gasp and beg my stomach to calm down.
Once I’m sure my stomach isn’t going to revolt anymore, I grab some of my water and swish it around in my mouth and spit it back out. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m just glad it didn’t get all over you or your car.” Archer says. He gets out of the car on his side and opens the trunk. He grabs a plastic bag that was holding the loose beers that my dad sent home with us. “Here, have this ready in case I can’t pull over in time.”
I nod and settle in for the drive.
“I’m going to stop at the next rest area and get you some carbonation and crackers, hopefully that will help.”
We continue the drive in silence, mainly because I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll puke again.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Archer is able to pull into a rest stop. He gets out and grabs me some Sprite and crackers from the vending machine. He sets them down next to me and goes to start the car.
“Can… can we just sit here for a few minutes? I
think the motion of the car is making it worse.” I explain. “Of course, let me roll down the window, fresh air might help as well.”
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. My hands and feet are tingly again and unfortunately that has become a warning sign that I’m going to—
I puke into the bag that Archer gave me.
I’m pretty sure Archer is grossed the fuck out, but doesn’t show it. Just winces every time I toss my figurative cookies into the bag. Archer takes the soiled bag and replaces it with another one he has found.
My eyes are closed but I hear footsteps approaching from outside the window.
“Hey man, do you have any cash?”
Before Archer has a chance to respond. I puke again.
“Never mind. Ya’ll look like you need it more than I do.
” The footsteps retreat quickly. I can only imagine the scene that the panhandler just witnessed.
Me praying for death as I wretch. My backseat is full of cookware, a horrible painting along with random odds and ends.
The man was looking for money and decided I needed it more… yeah, I must look really rough.
I hear Archer laugh beside me. “I promise I am not laughing at you. I’m just laughing at the whole situation. This is something that only happens in movies.”
I can’t even disagree with him as I clutch my puke bag in my hands.
We finally get back on the road, and I manage to fall asleep.
I wake up about 3 hours later, not feeling any better. I do manage to check my phone when Archer pulls off at a gas station to find a new puke bag.
Sibs Chat ??
Estella: So… how is everyone feeling?
Easton: Nikki is puking her guts out. What did you do?
Estella: Fuck. I’m so sorry. I was worried about that. The twins started running a fever as soon as we got home and now, they’re both puking.
Erica: You’re the reason I will never be able to enjoy a s’more again. I hope you’re happy, you monster.
My stomach rolls again, but there isn’t anything left in it, so I’m dry heaving out the side of the car when Archer comes back with a new bag and a pack of peppermint gum for me.
“Not feeling any better, I take it?” He asks as he hands me my care package.
“No… My nieces brought the plague with them yesterday apparently.” I croak out, my voice hoarse from puking. “I really hope you don’t get this.” I take tentative sips of the soda he got me.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I have a strong immune system.”
“Famous last words.”
And then I vomit again.