Her Last Wish (8 page)

I heard a rustling
coming from one of the guys sitting near Charlie. He’d decided to sneak nacho
cheese-flavored chips in class. I decided I barely cared. I had never specified
a “No food during class” rule. I just wished he would pay more attention to the
lecture than his snack. Or at the very least, learn to snack quietly. It only
made my assessment about the attention span of my students appear that much
less promising.

I glanced over at
Charlie to find that sometime in the past few minutes, she’d turned an awkward
shade of green. She glanced over at Chip Boy and wrinkled her nose. She then
looked up at me for a moment, covering her mouth with her hand. Without further
warning, she jumped up from her chair and bolted out the door.

I stared helplessly
after her for a few seconds before turning back to the rest of the class. I
wanted to go after her. She was clearly in some sort of distress. I didn’t know
what I could do to help, but I felt as if I needed to be with her. But then,
there was my lecture. I did have a job to do, after all. I studied each of the
other students’ faces. Most of them had paid more attention to her sudden
evacuation than they had the entire lecture up to that point.

I sighed in defeat. Although
I had hoped, I can’t say I expected any different from them. “How many of you
actually read the assignment?” I asked. “It’s okay. Be honest.” I carefully
counted hands that went up. Ten out of thirty. It was worse than I’d thought. “Right.
I think we can call it a day. Before we meet again, I want you to read the last
assignment and the next assignment. We’ll discuss them both next time …
after
I give you all a quiz on the material that you should have already read before
even coming today. It will count toward your final grade.”

I heard groans
throughout the room, mostly from those who had held their hands up only minutes
before. Was I teaching college? I seemed to have stumbled into a classroom of
high schoolers. They had no room to complain. They
paid
to sit in my
class.

“Seriously, guys. If
you want to pass this class, you have to actually work. I shouldn’t have to
tell you that. You’re all dismissed. Use your new free time wisely. If you
wanted to, you could probably even have it read before this class would have
otherwise been over, anyways.”

As the class packed up
their books, I hurried out the door to find Charlie. The halls were empty, with
the exception of a few lingering students and Jimmy, the custodian, who was
busy cleaning a soda spill off the tile. Jimmy was an older man, a retired Army
sergeant. Although I felt custodial work was beneath him, he seemed to enjoy
it. Plus, he was good at it. Apparently all those years in the service gave him
impeccable attention to detail.

“Jimmy, did you see a
girl leave my class a few minutes ago?” I asked. “Shoulder-length brown hair,
blue eyes. About this tall.” I held my hand up so he could see.

“Yeah,” Jimmy grumbled.
He gestured to the restrooms. “She just took off into the ladies room. She
seemed to be in a hurry. Nearly knocked my cart over.”

I always wondered what
it was about women’s restrooms that made men so nervous. I completely understood
why women were a bit wary of men’s rooms. They were usually disgusting.
W
omen weren’t generally
so bad. But for whatever reason, their restrooms were like some forbidden
territory. At any rate, I stood with my hand on the door for a minute before
finally gaining the courage to open it.

I carefully pushed the
door open a crack. “Charlie?” I called. “Are you in there?”

“Yeah,” came Charlie’s
voice. She sounded weak.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I just
…” I heard the deep, telltale splash of vomit hitting water. “No. No, I’m not.”

I paced within the
couple feet in front of the door, frantically trying to figure out what to do
and how to help her. I couldn’t even get to her. Or could I? It was just a
door. It was just a room. Damn those mental barriers!

“Are you the only one
in here?” I asked.

Another deep splash.
“Yeah.”

“Right, I’m coming in.”
I turned back to Jimmy. “Do you have the ‘Out of Order’ sign for the restrooms
on that cart?”

“Sure do,” Jimmy replied.
He jumped up and dug through one of the shelves underneath. He pulled out a
white sign with red letters that hung on two chains with clasps to attach to
the metal loops on the outside of the doors.

“Thanks.” I quickly
hung up the sign and ducked underneath. I peeked under the first stall to find
Charlie’s knees on the tile. My heart sank at the sight of her in such a
vulnerable position. “Do you need help?”

“I don’t …” Another
splash. “… know.” As if in a gesture of defeat, she opened the stall from her
spot on the floor.

I hurried to her side.
I carefully combed her hair back away from her face with my fingers, as she
rested her head on her arm over the bowl. I held the bundle tightly in one
hand. With the other hand, I gently rubbed her back to help calm her. I felt her
muscles relax almost immediately.

A few seconds later,
she heaved again. She coughed when she finished. “You don’t have to do this,”
she grumbled. “You don’t have to watch me being all disgusting and
plague-ridden.”

I laughed quietly.
“It’s not that bad.”

The loud click of high
heels neared us. A familiar voice came from behind me. “I thought I heard you
in here. What are you doing in the ladies’ room?”

I peeked over my
shoulder to find my colleague, Elizabeth’s best friend, standing right outside
the stall. I was technically her boss, but if you were simply an onlooker, you
would never have been able to guess. Savannah Clary was the picture of defiance
in every way. Her tawny blonde hair draped over her shoulders. Her hands were
placed firmly on her hips, as I’d seen them so many times since I’d met her. I
almost wondered if they had somehow grown into place, there. “Savannah,” I
greeted with a curt nod.

“I was walking by and
saw the sign, but Jimmy was outside, not in here. Why would that be?”

“Because my friend
needed privacy, so I suggest you give it to her.”

“Since when do you care
what happens to anyone?”

“Do you really want to
talk about that when this poor girl is puking up everything she’s eaten today?”

As if on cue, Charlie
threw up again. “Ugh,” she said weakly. “I’m so sorry, Professor Clary. I don’t
mean to block off this bathroom.”

“Jesus,” Savannah
grumbled in disgust. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t know. It just
hit me.”

“You don’t have any
classes for a while, right?” I asked Savannah. Savannah usually kept her
classes to the afternoon. She preferred it that way. She said she got more of
the background stuff done in the mornings. Personally, I had the suspicion that
she just didn’t want to take papers home. It didn’t matter to me, as long as
she got it done
and taught at least the minimum requirement of hours
.

“Yeah, my first starts
at eleven.” She wrinkled her nose at Charlie. “Why?”

“Charlie, where are
your keys?”

Charlie waved her hand
toward the door. “Backpack. Front–” She curled over the bowl again.

I turned back to
Savannah. “Take Charlie’s keys and take her car home. It’s a blue civic. She
always parks in the lot right outside these doors right here. I’ll take her
home as soon as she can get to the car without making a mess.” I took my hand
off Charlie’s back and dug out my phone. I quickly texted Charlie’s address to
Savannah. Once it sent, I put it back in my pocket and put my hand back on
Charlie’s back.

“That’s not …” She took
a deep breath. I could tell she was trying to hold in the next round. “That’s
not necessary.”

“Charlie, you can’t
drive like this. You’ll throw up on yourself before you even leave the parking
lot. And you’re certainly not fit to go to your next class. You can trust
Savannah with your car. I promise.”

I could tell Savannah
wasn’t happy about it, but she went, anyways. Within minutes, she came back
with Charlie’s bag. I nodded to the wall behind us as a sign to put it there.
The look I received from Savannah was filled with accusation.

“What?” I snapped.

“She’s a student,
Connor!” Savannah snapped back. “You could lose your job! I could lose mine for
even knowing about it and not reporting it!”

“Where does it say I
can’t help a sick student get home safely?”

“How could you know
where she lives without having been there first?”

Alright, I had to admit
it. She had me there. Unfortunately, I couldn’t
avoid
telling her without
making a huge mess of my career. It was tell Savannah or she would report it.
She would understand if she knew the truth. I knew she would. “Charlie is
helping me with something. She’s helping Elizabeth with something, too.”

Savannah’s face went
pale. “Connor, this has got to stop. Elizabeth is dead. There is nothing that
she could possibly need help with now. I know you miss her. I miss her, too.
Every single day. And I know it’s hard, but it’s time to accept that and move
on. She’s gone.”

My anger finally boiled
over. “Elizabeth isn’t gone! I have–” I froze. What if Charlie wasn’t sick
,
after all? I mean, she
was
clearly
not feeling up to par
, but what if it wasn’t anything like a virus?
I stared in awe at Charlie, wondering if she had the same suspicion I had. She
simply looked too beaten down by illness to suspect anything. “Just get
Charlie’s car home. I’ll meet you there.”

Chapter Twelve

Charlie

Good god, I felt like I
was dying. I hadn’t been so sick in ages. After Professor Clary left, Professor
Mason helped me up off the floor and walked me over to the sink. He wet down a
paper towel and gently pressed it against my face. I had to admit that the cool
dampness felt amazing. I closed my eyes and just let the feel of it wash away
my discomfort.

It was nice for someone
else to take care of me for a change. I certainly wasn’t used to it. I lived on
my own. Who
could
take care of me? Jackson would have never come for me
if he knew I had any form of sickness. He was always afraid of catching
whatever I might have had, even something small and stupid like a cold. I never
thought anything of it, though. Some people just can’t handle it, I suppose.
Besides, I
had seen him after he had caught a cold in the past. Any random observer would
have thought he was on his death bed.
Apparently Professor Mason didn’t share
Jackson’s illness anxiety. It was probably for the best, though. If the IVF treatments
worked, he’d have a lot of puke (and worse) to clean up in the relatively near
future. It was good practice. However, I still wished he hadn’t been around to
practice on me. How embarrassing!

“Do you think you can
make it to the car?” he asked gently.

I was afraid to open my
mouth again, so I just nodded. That would have just been the icing on the cake
to throw up all over him, too.

He scooped my bag off
the floor and put his hand in the small of my back. He felt so warm and
comforting. Or maybe I just felt extremely terrible and welcomed any kind
gesture. Either way, I let him guide me out to his car and dropped into the
front seat.

When he got in and
closed the door behind him, he said, “We’ll make a quick pit-stop, first. Then it’s
straight to your house.”

“Okay,” I responded. I
leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. I didn’t really
care where we went, so long as I could keep whatever was left in my stomach
down.

I apparently nodded
off, because next thing I remember, I woke up in the parking lot in front of my
apartment. Professor Clary and Professor Mason were arguing about something in
front of the car. I could have listened in, but I didn’t want to intrude. I
didn’t really even care. However, I was stunned when Professor Clary slapped my
car keys into Professor Mason’s palm and climbed into a taxi, which had been
waiting nearby. I had no idea what made her so angry, but it must have been
something significant.

Professor Mason swiped
a credit card in the taxi’s meter, placed it back in his wallet which went back
in his pocket, and readjusted my backpack on his shoulder. He then walked
toward me as if nothing happened. He smiled kindly at me as he opened the door.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” was all I could
manage. The queasiness was a bit less, but I was exhausted. The short nap in
the car had helped, but I could have definitely used another.

“Let me walk you up to
your apartment.” He offered a hand to help me out of the car.

Unsure of how I’d even
make it up there without help, I nodded and placed my hand in his. When he
pulled me to my feet, my legs were weak and shaky. It had been a long time
since I’d felt that level of sick. It was the kind that drained a person body
and soul, my own personal Hell. I prayed the worst was over.