The Seahorse: Prologue
**
Prologue: Swimming in Gray
It's quiet the morning after.
Only the sound of heavy breathing can be heard as Jared creeps down the stairs. A crumpling noise as he steps on an empty potato-chip bag. More rustling as he gathers up some discarded solo cups and stuffs them in a trash bag. Party guests lightly snoring on the couches and chairs, one rather small one curled up on an ottoman like a cat, draped in green St. Patrick's Day streamers and paper shamrocks.
Jared makes his way to the kitchen for the coffee. It's cold and stale, but at least it's something. While he's getting it out of the microwave, he finally notices the open door, bitter wind blowing in from outside.
Chad hasn't left yet; he's standing on the porch, muttering into his cell phone. Jared waits for him to finish the call, it's not a pleasant one, and Chad slaps the phone closed angrily. Chad sighs, and wipes his mouth in mild frustration.
Stepping out carefully onto the porch, his mug in hand, Jared lets the screen door whine and creek shut behind him. "So," he begins.
"Yeah." Chad nods.
Jared slurps up his coffee. It tastes disgusting, but his head is screaming for the caffeine.
"Look," Jared tries again, silence becoming too much to take. "We shouldn't, y'know, this doesn't have to torpedo ten-odd years of friendship, or something." Jared kicks himself as all the nervous second-guessing comes out. Don't hate me, he thinks.
"It was just sex," Chad says, still unable to look at him.
Jared laughs. "Yeah, I mean, c'mon, we were really, really, really, and I mean really really drunk and messed up and-"
"And my dick slipped on a banana peel."
They both lose it right there, laughing like crazy, Jared's coffee falls on the porch and he's clutching his sides and so is Chad-he's probably still buzzed, he's the type that wakes up drunk rather than hung-over. But in that moment, all the tension's left, and Jared starts to relax a bit.
"See? We're okay," Chad bumps his shoulder. "Nothing's gonna change."
"Right." And Jared wants to believe him, he really does.
**
A month later, Jared's face-down in a toilet bowl, hands clutching at the porcelain and stomach heaving every bit of food and water out of his body. It hurts like a bitch, and stomach acid burns his throat raw.
Sandy's right in front of the bathroom door when Jared finishes. She's holding up a pamphlet from the college's counseling center and her brow is set in a rather stubborn-looking pout.
"Jared, you have a problem. You need help."
Jared rolls his eyes and sighs. "I don't have an eating disorder." He tries to brush by her but she moves too fast and shoves the pamphlet in his face, standing on her toes to try and meet his eyes.
"Yes, you do! Jared, you have to stop denying that this is a problem, you've been skipping class to go to the bathroom to throw up and-"
In the midst of her rant, Jared grabs her by the shoulders, lifts her easily and moves her to one side, then walks straight past.
"-it's not healthy to-hey! I'm not letting this go!"
Sandy follows him into the sitting room where he flops in the empty chair by the couch and turns to his roommate. "Tell her I don't have bulimia, please?"
Milo doesn't look up from his PS2. "Jared doesn't have bulimia, he just makes himself puke so he won't get fat. Also, because he has bulimia."
Sandy snorts and Jared reaches behind him for a throw pillow to toss at Milo's head, but there isn't one.
"Jared, this is serious!" Sandy says. "You've been throwing up so much!"
"Not that much." Jared clicks his teeth and digs a stray Nerf ball out from under the couch cushions to hit Milo in the arm with. It's on now when Milo pauses his game and nods, accepting the unspoken challenge and reaching for the nearest blunt object to hurl back at Jared.
"Yeah, actually you only do it in the morning," Milo adds, flinging a stereo remote at Jared's head, just missing.
Sandy pauses, biting the inside of her cheek. "Really?"
"Really." Jared nods.
"So, it's like... morning sickness?"
Jared kind of feels the world crumple in on him, providing Milo the opportunity to hit him right in the side of the face with a small cushion. And that's when he realizes how dizzy he is. The sudden warmth throughout his body, he feels so suddenly and strangely tired. And then it feels like he's out at sea; he's being tossed and turned in the water, the air smelling like salt and alcohol.
He wakes up in the school nurses' office, ammonia or maybe ethanol being rubbed onto his pulse points: wrists, neck, and temples. It's working, cooling his body down as his head tries to clear. Sandy and Milo are standing next to him, both of them looking worried.
Milo speaks first. "You passed out, dude."
Sandy, arms crossed, shows annoyance with her concern. "Dehydration, from all the throwing up."
"Oh, oh God," Jared says when he finds his voice.
"I'm sorry I like, hit your soft spot, or something-"
"It's fine. Jared, it wouldn't have happened if you'd weren't-"
"I'm pregnant."
**
Pseudocyesis