musesandlyrics | 2.13. Junior quote
2.13. "I've noticed that the side effects of pregnancy are greatly amplified."
Junior
Co-written with missparamedic
[Follows all HERE, specifically THIS]
When Ali left James on the dance floor, there was a funny cramping in her gut. She really did think she maybe had just overdone it on the mini sausage rolls and was now headed for an uncomfortable bout of diarrhoea. She had her hand gripped on her stomach as she wove her way through the dancing crowd, keeping her head dipped low so no one tried to stop her to talk. She didn’t really want to deal with the ‘Can I take a raincheck? I’m about to shit my pants’ conversation.
When she reached the bathroom, though, the pain was worse and not easing. She had to stop at the hand dryers on the wall, grabbing hold of one as her whole lower stomach wracked with a painful, sharp cramp. It would be just her luck to get food poisoning at the party she worked so hard to make perfect. All she wanted was to make Andrew happy and maybe in the process thank him for all he had given her. Luckily no one else was in the bathroom when she got there, because she started to hike her dress as she felt her way over to the cubicles. She got pushed her knickers down and sat heavily on the toilet, a rough relieved breath leaving her in a rush as she dropped her face into her hands, elbows resting on her knees.
She braced herself for what she feared was coming, but her stomach just kept cramping, getting worse and worse with each wave. Moaning as tears filled her eyes, she was almost desperate to get the runs now to relieve the pain. Maybe throwing up would help? By now she had broken out into a heavy sweat and she leant forward taking her hands away from her face. If she was going to be sick, she didn’t want it to be all over her expensive dress. She also wasn’t going to risk moving in case this was a burning the candle at both ends situation. You never could be sure with food poisoning. Luke would just have to pay his cleaner extra to disinfect the cubicle floor. But as she leaned forward, that’s when she saw it. Blood in her underwear and streaked down over her thigh. The unexpected sight caused her to cry out in shock and look down in horror at her hand that also had blood on it from where she had pulled her pants down. She froze and just stared, terrified as another sob fell from her lips.
Emma had entered the bathroom just as the first cubicle door was swinging closed. Someone splashed a sticky blue drink all over her top and she came to make a hasty effort to try and wash some of it out before it stained. It was probably optimistic, but worth a shot. She hadn’t even gotten some paper towel damp before she heard the woman in the cubicle’s pained cry. Emma dropped the towels into the sink and whipped around, another sob following. “Are you okay in there?” she asked in concern, going over to the cubicle and resting her hand on the door. The lock hadn’t been flicked to occupied, but she didn’t want to push in. Maybe the woman just had a fight with her boyfriend or something and came to the bathroom for a bit of a cry. Emma had been in that boat. Women’s bathrooms could see through some tough times on the dating wagon.
Ali didn’t even register the voice through the shock. Something flicked inside her mind and she dragged almost a whole roll of toilet paper from the dispenser and tried to scrub the blood from her fingers. She was crying now, trying to process what was going on, and she sat back a little to look down into the toilet. More blood. “Oh my god,” she sobbed shakily, the panic starting to set in as tears spilt down her cheeks and she balled the soiled tissue in her hands, knuckles whitening from the grip. “No… please, no…”
The British accent. Emma had spent some time earlier in the night talking to Andrew’s fiancée, so she recognised it immediately. “Ali? Ali, it’s Emma.” It was offered as merely a warning before Emma pushed the door open to make sure Ali was okay. It should have probably felt strange, but Andrew was her best friend and if Ali was in some trouble, she wanted to help. She could never in a million years have expected the sight she was met with, and a gasp fell from her lips. She reflexively reached out to touch Ali’s shoulder, not able to think clearly in the first instance to know what to do. It couldn’t be. Surely, after everything, this couldn’t be happening?!
Ali looked up at Emma pleadingly, grabbing at the wrist of her other hand and squeezing it to probably a painful point. “Andrew,” she choked out in a barely audible whisper. “I need Andrew, please!”
Emma nodded helplessly, swallowing to wet her dry throat. She backed out of the cubicle, almost tripping over her own feet and turned to bolt back into the bar. She wanted to cry herself, but that wasn’t going to help anyone. All she had to do was find Andrew, but she suddenly the room felt like it had a million people in it…
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 898
Junior
Co-written with missparamedic
[Follows all HERE, specifically THIS]
When Ali left James on the dance floor, there was a funny cramping in her gut. She really did think she maybe had just overdone it on the mini sausage rolls and was now headed for an uncomfortable bout of diarrhoea. She had her hand gripped on her stomach as she wove her way through the dancing crowd, keeping her head dipped low so no one tried to stop her to talk. She didn’t really want to deal with the ‘Can I take a raincheck? I’m about to shit my pants’ conversation.
When she reached the bathroom, though, the pain was worse and not easing. She had to stop at the hand dryers on the wall, grabbing hold of one as her whole lower stomach wracked with a painful, sharp cramp. It would be just her luck to get food poisoning at the party she worked so hard to make perfect. All she wanted was to make Andrew happy and maybe in the process thank him for all he had given her. Luckily no one else was in the bathroom when she got there, because she started to hike her dress as she felt her way over to the cubicles. She got pushed her knickers down and sat heavily on the toilet, a rough relieved breath leaving her in a rush as she dropped her face into her hands, elbows resting on her knees.
She braced herself for what she feared was coming, but her stomach just kept cramping, getting worse and worse with each wave. Moaning as tears filled her eyes, she was almost desperate to get the runs now to relieve the pain. Maybe throwing up would help? By now she had broken out into a heavy sweat and she leant forward taking her hands away from her face. If she was going to be sick, she didn’t want it to be all over her expensive dress. She also wasn’t going to risk moving in case this was a burning the candle at both ends situation. You never could be sure with food poisoning. Luke would just have to pay his cleaner extra to disinfect the cubicle floor. But as she leaned forward, that’s when she saw it. Blood in her underwear and streaked down over her thigh. The unexpected sight caused her to cry out in shock and look down in horror at her hand that also had blood on it from where she had pulled her pants down. She froze and just stared, terrified as another sob fell from her lips.
Emma had entered the bathroom just as the first cubicle door was swinging closed. Someone splashed a sticky blue drink all over her top and she came to make a hasty effort to try and wash some of it out before it stained. It was probably optimistic, but worth a shot. She hadn’t even gotten some paper towel damp before she heard the woman in the cubicle’s pained cry. Emma dropped the towels into the sink and whipped around, another sob following. “Are you okay in there?” she asked in concern, going over to the cubicle and resting her hand on the door. The lock hadn’t been flicked to occupied, but she didn’t want to push in. Maybe the woman just had a fight with her boyfriend or something and came to the bathroom for a bit of a cry. Emma had been in that boat. Women’s bathrooms could see through some tough times on the dating wagon.
Ali didn’t even register the voice through the shock. Something flicked inside her mind and she dragged almost a whole roll of toilet paper from the dispenser and tried to scrub the blood from her fingers. She was crying now, trying to process what was going on, and she sat back a little to look down into the toilet. More blood. “Oh my god,” she sobbed shakily, the panic starting to set in as tears spilt down her cheeks and she balled the soiled tissue in her hands, knuckles whitening from the grip. “No… please, no…”
The British accent. Emma had spent some time earlier in the night talking to Andrew’s fiancée, so she recognised it immediately. “Ali? Ali, it’s Emma.” It was offered as merely a warning before Emma pushed the door open to make sure Ali was okay. It should have probably felt strange, but Andrew was her best friend and if Ali was in some trouble, she wanted to help. She could never in a million years have expected the sight she was met with, and a gasp fell from her lips. She reflexively reached out to touch Ali’s shoulder, not able to think clearly in the first instance to know what to do. It couldn’t be. Surely, after everything, this couldn’t be happening?!
Ali looked up at Emma pleadingly, grabbing at the wrist of her other hand and squeezing it to probably a painful point. “Andrew,” she choked out in a barely audible whisper. “I need Andrew, please!”
Emma nodded helplessly, swallowing to wet her dry throat. She backed out of the cubicle, almost tripping over her own feet and turned to bolt back into the bar. She wanted to cry herself, but that wasn’t going to help anyone. All she had to do was find Andrew, but she suddenly the room felt like it had a million people in it…
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 898