“What happened?” Melanie, her best friend since the second grade and roommate, asked as Rebecca quietly closed the door behind her.
“He fired me again,” she admitted as she tried to go for casual while she walked through their loft-style apartment and headed towards the bathroom.
“Going to be sick?” Melanie asked around a yawn from where she lounged on the couch with a magazine, a Coke and her reason for living, a double chocolate fudge Pop-Tart.
“No, no of course not,” she lied, barely resisting the urge to place her hand over her stomach, dive for the wastebasket by the kitchen island and finally find some relief from the damn nausea that had been plaguing her since breakfast.
“Really?” Melanie asked, cocking a brow as she continued to thumb through her magazine.
“I’m fine,” Rebecca said, forcing herself to stop a mere twenty feet from her salvation.