It tasted awful. As soon as I swallowed, a wave of nausea hit me. I clutched my mouth and fought hard to keep it down.
The steakhouse was sparsely populated that afternoon, but as luck would have it, Jason and his roommate were there too, dining at the same place.
This time, he didn't run. Instead, he came over, all awkward and blushing like a schoolboy with a crush.
His red face irritated me. "What's with you? You look like you're about to explode."
He opened his mouth to respond, but I didn't give him a chance. My stomach revolted, and I threw up all over him.
The world stopped. Everyone did too. I felt like I was sinking into the floor, utterly mortified.
It was a complete disaster. I had no idea what to do, so I just shut my eyes and passed out.
For real, I didn't fake it—I just blacked out from all the stress.
When I came to, I was in the infirmary, covered up and cared for.
"You up?" Jason was there, hovering with a worried look.
"Dreaming, so shush," I snapped, barely looking at him.
It seemed like Jason and I were just a recipe for disaster. Trouble brewed whenever he was around. Right on cue, Ava burst in, "Olivia, you pregnant or what?"