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ADDISON
“Ugh, what a waste of time!” I shout, hanging my purse on the coat rack by the door and plopping my keys down on the hallway table. It took a few weeks, but I’m finally treating Olivia’s apartment like it’s mine too.
I step onto the heel of my shoes to pull them off, then head toward the living room. Two round cucumber eyes surrounded by a face of green goop turn to me.
“Another bust?” Olivia asks, reaching up to grab the cucumbers off her face and popping one into her mouth. I grimace.
“Oh, did I miss out on avocado face masks?” I say teasingly. She keeps trying to get me to take part in her biweekly morning ritual, but I hate avocado, so the idea alone repulses me. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge in the attached kitchen, then sit beside her on the couch.
“But yeah,” I say. “It didn’t go well. The rooms are way too small for a classroom of little kids. I don’t think I’d be able to have more than five at a time, which means I’d have to jack my rates up more than anyone would reasonably pay for a no-name dance teacher with shitty credentials.”
“I’m so sorry, babe. I know you were really looking forward to seeing this place. What’s next?”
I shrug, frowning. “I’m not sure. I didn’t expect to find the perfect place overnight, but it’s been a few weeks of searching, and nothing feels right. I’m starting to get discouraged.”
I shift my body so I can lay my head on her lap. She’s wearing a bright purple velour tracksuit—which I can’t even believe still exist—and it feels cozy against my cheek.
“I’m so exhausted. How can I do nothing all day, get a full night of rest, and still feel like I haven’t slept in days?”
“You’re pushing your body too hard. Are you still dancing a few hours a day? That’s a lot.”
“Maybe you’re right. I’ve actually had to cut back this week. I’ve been getting light-headed and have been so sore. Maybe it’s stress.”
I take a deep breath and let it go, trying to relieve some of my frustration. In doing so, I get a big whiff of avocado and feel the nausea building. Sitting back up, I try to swallow the extra saliva collecting in my mouth, but my stomach just churns at the sight of the thick green and yellow chunks along her cheeks and forehead.
“Olivia... I—” My hand flies to my mouth as bile climbs up my throat. I run over to the kitchen sink, making it just in time for my expensive coffee and bagel to exit my body.
“Addi, babe, are you okay?” Olivia calls, running up behind me and grabbing for my hair.
“Yes!” I exclaim between gags, my fingers gripping tightly to the cool steel sink. “Just go wash that off! It smells awful!”
“What?” she exclaims, pulling back. “Okay, okay, I’ll go shower. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod frantically, another wave of vomit climbing up my throat. Luckily, she leaves, taking her disgusting guac face with her. After a few minutes, I’m able to breathe again. I walk back over to the couch, take a few swallows from my water bottle, and stretch out on my back. I barely move a muscle, hoping my stomach will settle.
“You feeling any better?” Olivia asks, walking back into the room. I jerk, realizing I had slightly dozed off while waiting. “That was crazy, girl. What did you eat this morning?”
I sit up and stretch before drinking down the rest of my water. “Yeah, I feel okay. I just had a coffee and bagel from Chauncy’s,” I say, talking about the café a few blocks away. “I swear, it was just the avocado. It smelled awful.”
She laughs, running a brush through her long, wet locks. “Maybe you’re pregnant,” she teases as she walks into the kitchen. She grabs me another bottle of water and holds it out to me when she gets back to the couch.
“Pregnant?” I croak out, snapping my eyes up to Olivia’s. I can feel the color drain from my face, and my hands turn ice cold as I feel another wave of nausea tickle deep in my belly.
Olivia twists her brow and plops down beside me on the couch. “Huh?” she says. “I was just teas—”
“What day is it?” I shout, running over to my bag. I struggle with the zipper, dropping a few f-bombs until I finally free my phone and pull up the calendar.
It opens on the current day and month—eighth of July. I slowly scroll backwards, barely breathing and searching for the giant red P that I mark in my calendar each first day of my period.
I land on April, a big red mark on the twenty-ninth. I frown. There’s no way that’s possible. I fly back through May, carefully combing through, but no red P. I turn to June, running my eyes over the days multiple times, but still nothing.
I gasp, looking back to Olivia, who looks about as dumbfounded as I feel. I blink a few times, trying to make sense of how this could have happened.
“I haven’t had my period since April. Right? Did I just forget to mark it? Oh my god, I can’t remember.” My palm meets my forehead as I try to concentrate, but my brain seems to be spinning out of control. I fly back over to the couch and take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind.
Olivia pulls herself up close beside me, peering over my shoulder at the phone in my hands. I count the weeks back from today. One, two, three...
“Ten weeks!” I gasp. “I haven’t had my period for ten fucking weeks? How the hell did that happen?”
