WHILE I CURLED INTO A BALL ON THE BATHROOM floor after the umpteenth time of throwing up, Khloe went to get her phone.
“I’m texting Lexa to get Christina,” she said. “No way I’m leaving even just to go down the hallway.”
I nodded, pressing my hot cheek against the cool tile. I’d never felt this sick. Ever. Not even when I’d gotten food poisoning a few summers ago from mayonnaise on sandwiches at a picnic.
Someone knocked on our door and then opened it.
“Oh, no, Lauren,” Christina said, coming into the bathroom. “Aw, sweetie.” She sat beside me and lightly rubbed my back. “We’re going to get you feeling better. I’m so sorry you’re sick.”
“Thank you for coming over,” I said, my voice barely audible.
I shut my eyes again, feeling like I was going to throw up.
Khloe told Christina everything that had happened since we’d been in the room together and mentioned the parts I’d told Khloe about how I’d felt during the day. I listened to them, feeling as though I was drifting in and out of a fog.
“I don’t want Lauren sleeping on the bathroom floor,” Christina said to Khloe. “Let’s get her into bed. Don’t try to move her until I get a bowl to put beside her in case she gets sick again.”
“I’ll be right back, Laur,” Christina said.
I fell asleep on the floor before she returned.