Connected (F1 Story)

Chapter Forty Five: Reset

The cold bead of sweat finished formulating and dripped down my back, making me shiver. Having my head against the toilet bowl wasn't doing my temperature any favours. My skin was on fire and I was beyond fed up. Fed up of throwing up. Fed up of my body not being able to regulate its own temperature.

I breathed and held my eyes shut tight, not wanting to see the contents of the toilet. I needed to gather my strength up first before I could flush it. Even in the darkness, the cubicle was spinning in circles. That was making me feel even worse.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, aware that I could immediately be sick again, and my vision came back to be with a bit of time. Without looking at what I had just bought up, I pressed down on the handle and used some toilet roll to wipe my mouth and face. It really did take all of my strength to do that one small task.

After a while, I mustered the courage to stand up, and settled against the back of the toilet door. I wanted to make sure that I wouldn't faint or be ill again if I left the confined compound.

Feeling like I could manage walking back into the HR room without making a fool of myself, I unlocked the cubicle door, washed my hands, swore at my reflection, and set about going back down the corridor. I looked like shit, truly and utterly excellent.

That walk felt like one of the longest of my life. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other, but I convinced myself that I was fine. There was nothing wrong with me - I had just been extremely pent up and being ill was my body's way of dealing with it all.

Simple. I should become a doctor is my career really did go tits up.

With one more wipe of my palms on the fronts of my jeans, I entered Adam's room. He was where I left him: sitting on the desk. The only thing that had changed was that he was now on his phone; scrolling up his Twitter timeline to be precise.

"Uh, are you alright?" he asked wearily, putting his phone on the desk and giving me a concerned look.

"I was a bit sick, not going to lie to you," I stuttered, collapsing in the chair that I had been sat in previously. I sat down so hard that stars had appeared in my vision and were littering my field of sight. Adam was covered in grey sparkles and it didn't suit him.

"Are you ill?"

"No, like I said, these past 48 hours have been a fucking disaster and I have never been so worried or concerned about my future in all of my life."

Adam folded his arms across his chest and the look of concern changed to one of sympathy and regret. "I can't apologise more. Can I take you and Daniel out to dinner tonight, please? It is the absolute least I can do."

I thought for a second, unsure. But then I had no valid reason to say no. And I was craving some onion rings. I mean, Daniel and I had both had salad at Ask earlier on in the day.

"Okay," I agreed, trying to relax into my chair. "That would be very kind of you."

"Not to worry. We'll go to a Bistro pub not far away from where I live. It's a really nice place and there's a lot on the menu that Daniel can eat..." he must have seen the expression on my face. "But plenty for you and I too."

"I'm sure he will eat whatever is put in front of him, and whatever you or I leave also."

"I have seen him steal your food in the canteen before, I must admit," Adam chuckled. He liked Daniel - then again, not many people didn't. "Will you be okay to eat?"

"I need food. I am completely fine now, as long as my job is okay and I know that all the previous Abu Dhabi plans are still in place?"

"Absolutely. We were getting travel to sort you something out for Dubai."