Page 44 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
It’s much, muchworse.
I unlock the door from my seat and push it open so I can see a sliver of the hallway. This flightattendant must be a mind reader. She’s standing there with a stack of three or four vomit bags in her hand, just inches from the restroomdoor.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing it and shutting the door just asfast.
I want to feel embarrassed but I can’t. I’m too sick to feel remorse as everything I’ve eaten is hurled into the bag at the exact same time that my bowels violently emptythemselves.
Oh God. Please kill menow.
The flight attendant knocks feverishly on the restroom door a minute after the pilot came onto the intercom to announce that he and the copilot are preparing forlanding.
“Ma’am?” she calls, her voice laced withurgency.
“Yes,” I groan. I’m not just weak. I’m exhausted and I feel like if I stand up, I’llfaint.
“Ma’am, I’ll need you to finish up in there and return to your seat for thelanding.”
“I can’t,” I say, pleading for an exception to thatrule.
“I’m so sorry, Ma’am, but you’ll have totry.”
“I swear to God, I feel so faint, and my bum is so raw, but there’s more coming out from...everywhere. Please let me stay in here. I promise I’ll hold on really tight. I’ll signa waiver or whatever you need me to. I justcan’t.”
“Open the door, Ma’am. I can give you something for that.” I unlock the door and open it a crack. She shows me an adult diaper. “It’s for our first-class passengers,” she informsme.
“Out of curiosity, what do you give the passengers in economy?” I ask with the last bit of energy I have. But I need toknow.
“They have togo in their pants...or skirts,” she saysflatly.
Grabbing the diaper, I slam the door shut and do my best to neaten up. I also slip the diaper on, because going in my pants is not an option. I wash my hands with loads of soap a few times, then my face, and try not to seem too embarrassed for hogging the restroom for so long. All the passengers in first class avert their eyes as I walk by,but I’m grateful I don’t have to make eye contact with anyone. I take my seat, snap on my seatbelt, and sit as still as possible to avoid anaccident.
The plane lands, but not soon enough. I do manage to avoid soiling myself, and rush off the plane, sending a text to my sister to let her know Ilanded.
Me: I’m here.Hurry.
Bethany: WelcometoDenver!
Me: Just get here! I only have carry-onluggage.
Bethany: Chillax, I’mparking.
Me: Thank God. I’ll be out in asecond.
Bethany: Great! So glad you’rehere!
Me: You may not feel that way in aminute.
Bethany: Why? What’swrong?
Me: Long story. Btw I’mdehydrated.
I lock my phone screenand look for the exit closest to the short-term parking garage. On my way out, I stop in the ladies’ restroom and get rid of the diaper. I feel like a winner because it’s clean. As soon as Bethany texts me the parking spot number, I drag my suitcase along, feeling soweak.
The first thing I notice is her naturally bright red hair. Her hair is like Mom’s, and mine is dark like Dad’s. Shehas the trunk open when I arrive, and puts my suitcase inside before pulling me into herarms.
“Oh my gosh, I missed you so much, little sis! Jeez, have you lost weight? All I feel is bone on your back and ribs on your chest. Please don’t tell me you’re dieting.” She pulls back and studies my face. “Damn girl, you look likeshit!”
I nod. “Nice to see you too, Beth. Can we go homenow?”
