“Jules?”
“Matt?”
The door opens. It’s Chad.
I can see Jules, part of her brown skin, part of a leg, the back of her calf.
“Is she ok?”
“She’s fine, she just feels embarrassed. She doesn’t want to see you right now.”
Jules heaves into the toilet.
“Can I get you anything?”
“We’re fine,” Chad says. “I’ll find you later, ok?” Chad closes the door.