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“Big red…,” my words trail off. No. They couldn’t think…. “I was wearing a ring-pop candy.”
Now it was Lexi’s turn to be confused. “A ring-pop? Are you serious?”
“That has to be it. I swore I saw a flash go off before I hit Grant’s place but didn’t see anyone.” I shook my head at the weirdness of it all.
“Well congrats! You’re fake married in the eyes of the public now.”
I made a rude sound at her comment, my throat starting to hurt. I was just coming off my last shift at the daycare and must have talked too much this afternoon. “I’ll have to call Grant and tell him the happy news.”
“I have to go. My breaks almost over. I’ll call you later in the week when I have time.”
“Okay. Love you!”
“Love you too!”
I fumble with my keys a bit as I get closer to the apartment door. The key is just about to go into the lock when I pause. Something doesn’t look right. The side of the door has a gash in it. Like it was hit with something. Someone must have hit it. Maybe accidentally?
The thought dies quickly as soon as I open the door. Taking a step into the apartment, I instantly want to gag.
“Oh God!” I cry, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. Why the hell was it so hot in here? And why does it smell like ass? Sweat instantly pools on my brow as I make my way further into the room. Scanning the area, I don’t see anything out of place. I’m almost afraid to keep looking. It’s not until I circle around the coffee table that I see the problem. The air conditioner has broken, and brown water is soaked into the carpet.
“Shit.” This is not good. Creeping forward, like the machine could explode at any second, I try to make out how much of the wall and windowsill are damaged. The wood looks a little warped but not completely ruined.
Grabbing my phone, I scroll my contacts for the Super. I’m about to press his name when my screen vibrates with a new text from Grant.
GRANT: Are you still at the bakery?
Tapping on his name I reply back.
LEXI: No. Just got home to the awesome discovery that my A/C unit is broken and leaking gross water everywhere.
I’ve just hit send when the phone rings.
“What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know. I need to call my Super. It’s hot as balls in here.” I huff out a breath, feeling fatigued already.
“I don’t even what to think what no A/C feels like today.”
“It’s not great babe, it’s not great.”
There’s some shuffling on his end. “Crap, I have to go. Coach is waving at me.”
“Yeah. Go. Go. I’ll let you know what happens here.”
“Bye Pix.”
I say goodbye, dropping my arm back to my side. Just looking at the mess drains me of energy. It’s been a long day, the humidex in the city is off the charts, and I’ve felt a bit off since this morning. Coming home to this nice surprise it the cherry on top of an already blah day.
Taking a deep breath and reminding myself of everything I have to be grateful for, I search through my phone again for the Super’s number. Color me astonished when he tells me he’ll be up within the hour. Knowing there's no time for a shower, I head to the fridge to grab some fruit, hoping the cool treat will boost my energy. I've just placed the carton of strawberries on the counter when a wave of nausea hits me. I run for the bathroom, just making it in time before I get sick.
I heave until nothing is left in my stomach, wave after wave of dizziness washes over me as I kneel over the toilet. I’m so hot. I feel so gross. Pushing back, I slump on the floor, my back against the edge of the bathtub. My limbs feel heavy as I drag hair out of my face. I’m not sure if I’m crying or sweating but my face is damp.
I must be suffering from heat exhaustion or something. It’s been years since the last time I threw up and I very rarely get sick. This day just kept getting better and better. If the Super wasn’t due here any minute, I would stay here on the cold tile and catch a nap. It feels nice under my burning body. But it’s not an option.
Dragging myself off the floor, I cling to the counter as my legs shake from exhaustion. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I give an audible gasp. I look like the girl from The Ring. My hair is matted to my scalp with sweat, mascara is smudged under my eyes and the only color on my face is a light red hue on my cheeks. I look pale…and not good.
A moan of distress gets caught in my throat. I’m too tired to open my mouth. Bracing myself on my elbows, I turn the water on and flick water at my face. When that doesn’t have the desired effect I was hoping for, I carefully cup my hands and start washing my face with shaky limbs. Once that’s done, I feel a little better.
