10:23:03 am: Her left cheek is pressed against the filthy tile floor. She lies at just arm’s length from the toilet; the handicapped stall provides ample space for nausea-induced writhing. She wants very much to vomit, but is unable to. She needs to return to her class, but is unable to. She is sick, but more than that she is angry. She is angry at herself for having been so foolish, though mostly she is angry with that girl for having given her faulty goods.

9:25:13 am: While tinkering with the numbers on her gym lock she wonders, confounded, why companies who make locks would make combinations so horribly impenetrable. 2-12-22. Thumb and index fingers feel heavy, too heavy to turn dial. She has difficulty grasping lock. She would prefer not to be late for intramural soccer.

8:20:47 am: The second period journalism class is celebrating the completion of their March issue. Benevolent staffers have brought hot chocolate and an assorted box of munchkins. She peers inside the box. Jelly filled, chocolate glazed, powdered, blueberry glazed! As a prolific contributor to the Husky Herald she feels it only fair that she take eighteen munchkins. She sits on her desk and pops a jelly filled munchkin in her mouth. She chews methodically. It is very soft, very sweet, just like her mother. She takes a gulp of luke-warm chocolate. Her tongue swims a while in the rich, viscous liquid before swallowing. She swings her feet slowly over the edge of the desk, a slight smile spread over bulging cheeks. Her classmates regard this behavior, bemused.
10:35:23 am: She is being shaken by someone. It is the girl from that morning. The one who had given her the brownie. The brownie girl is asking her what the f*** she thinks she is doing. She tells Brownie Girl she wants to go home. Brownie Girl lifts her off the ground. Her math teacher is there too. Brownie Girl convinces math teacher that she is alright. Brownie Girl takes her back into the bathroom. She feels very sorry for herself. Also, she feels pathetic; Brownie Girl does not care about her. Brownie Girl is only there to hide her identity as distributor of brownies. She asks again to be taken to the nurse. Brownie Girl agrees and tells her she is sick only because of food poisoning. Brownie Girl ought to know this better than anyone.

9:38:57 am: She decides soccer is by far the best sport. Kicking things is a healthy way of releasing ones aggression. Only then, in the heat of the moment, she accidentally picks up the ball and runs to the other side of the gymnasium, disturbing students who are line dancing. Players from the opposing team chase her around the room trying to retrieve the soccer ball. What dirty tactics they have! She storms the goal, ball still in hand. Unfortunately, the coach does not award points for this. Her teammates do not seem to share her enthusiasm either. She spends the remainder of the period on the bleachers.

9:57:00 am: She is relieved that Monsieur Heath is not making them conjugate verbs on the board. She looks at the mural of Sacre Couer painted on the wall. It looks warm. Very red and very maroon. It is so cold where she is sitting. She gets up from her desk and walks to the Sacre Couer. It is, as she had guessed, a balmy evening in Paris. The setting sun has turned the sky gold. She wonders why the sky isn’t gold where she lives. She looks at eye level. From the steps of the Sacre Couer she can see almost all twenty arrondissements. A waiter approaches her holding a plate of warm crepes stuffed with melted Swiss cheese and sautéed onions. She smells them and licks the steaming top of one crepe.

10:32:26 am: She knows what she must do. To keep her current condition inconspicuous she must return to French class, retrieve her belongings and go to the nurse’s office. There she can easily convince Regina The Nurse to let her go home. She hasn’t eaten. She is dehydrated and feels weak. That’s all. She hoists herself up, unlocks the handicapped stall. Something occurs to her; the period must nearly be over. Walking through a crowd of kids will be problematic. Hopefully she has enough time.

9:10:45 am: She looks down at her worksheet. There is a streak of drool. She writes her name. She looks up at the ceiling. Then the door. Then the mole on the neck of the girl sitting in front of her. It is very difficult to focus on translating her sentences. She has a very beautiful red dress. Elle a une tres belle— She wants to vomit. Est ce que je peux aller au toilette, s’il vous plait? Door. Mole. Ceiling. robe rouge. Door. Mole. Ceiling. Mole. Door. Door. Door. Door. DOOR.

10:33:45 am: The bell has rung. Students are pouring into the halls. She has walked only three feet from the bathroom door. Something is wrong. She sees a dark haze encroach her sight. She thinks maybe someone has switched off the fluorescent lights but it slowly spreads. She sinks down the side of the wall and thinks she will wake up either in a hospital or ambulance attached to an IV. She will be expelled. She won’t be able to go to college. Her family will disown her. She will be thrown out of the house and left to wander the streets. With no way to support herself she will become a prostitute, catering to men riddled with STDs on crack cocaine. She will become addicted to crack cocaine. The few dollars she will earn everyday having sex with men with STDs on crack cocaine will then be squandered on crack cocaine. She falls on her side. Feels people looking at her. Someone steps on her arm. She closes her eyes.