Conversations 31

I’m pacing the length of the small hallway.

“When will you be done class?” my mom asks on the phone.

“I don’t know. I can always crash at K’s apartment,” I reply. The impending snow storm is on all our minds.

“Do you have clothes?” she asks.

I look at K. “I have a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt.”

“You can borrow a pair of my sweatpants and a shirt to sleep in,” K adds.

“She said I can borrow stuff,” I tell my mom.

“Do you have your medicine?” she asks me.

It dawns on it.


No medicine if I stay at hers, no imitrex, no cymbalta, nothing if I get a migraine.

I fight off the panic attack.

“No,” I sigh. I really don’t want my parents driving in the weather but I’ll be screwed even if I miss one dose. I have in the past.

“Let me know when class is done and I’ll come pick you up,” she says.

“Okay,” I say defeated.


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