((1506 words, 3 solos))

Pythia, and it pained the redhead greatly to admit it, was what was commonly known by some on the internet as a “basic white girl.” She more than enjoyed her Starbucks lattes, and her selfies were everywhere on her Instagram, and heart emojis were sent with fervent devotion to those she deemed worthy. She could quote Mean Girls, adored Pitch Perfect, and would cut someone over the last jar of Nutella in the store- especially on the rare occasions it was on sale. Pretty Little Liars was becoming a favorite since she had found it on Netflix, and yes- sometimes she indulged in leggings as pants, because what sane, comfort-loving woman wouldn't?! But she supposed that her greatest offense of all... was an unholy, unnatural love of pumpkin spice. Oh, she tried to deny it, even to herself; she called it bland, boring, tasteless. Yet she kept buying it. She tried pumpkin spice everything. EVERYTHING. She had even gotten pumpkin spice hand soap, “in honor of the season” and not at all because she was basic as hell. Because she wasn't. Clearly. She had exactly 0 Uggs in her closet, and the only Forever 21 she had was off of the rack at the pre-owned clothing shop.

All of this was, of course, her defense and explanation for her decision to forego her usual Starbucks run in order to go to this 'local' place. Apparently, they knew how to get very inventive with their pumpkins, and half of the girls in class had been raving about how absolutely amazing this pumpkin spice mocha cappuccino was, and an actual pumpkin spice caramel latte, and pumpkin spice white chocolate cocoa? Well, far be it from her to try and resist the feeding call of the wild latte; after class was over, it was her extreme pleasure to pull out her phone and tug up directions to the coffee shop, lips pursed and the heel of one flat boot tapping against the ground in a rhythmic tap-tap-tap. It looked like the place wasn't too far away from here- she might be able to swing by on her lunch break, after her next lecture? That was usually when she went on lunch anyways, so the afternoon pick-her-up would do some good. Possibly there was a nice little bagel or something to go with it? Or something vaguely inexpensive to supplement her inevitable intake. She'd gotten a few extra hours this week- she could handle the indulgence.

The walk was cold, but it could have been worse. The line was impressively long, and almost had her turn around and go back to campus to try and grab something out of the snack machines. But after a moment she could see that they were churning out orders fairly quick; so she happily kept her place in line, peering at her phone in an effort to get people to not talk to her, so she wasn't chowing down on someone's throat before her coffee. She really needed her caffeine, that last lecture had been the most boring- “Hi!” as she got to the counter, her entire countenance changing at once to effervescent cheer. The dead-eyed stare of the retail worker behind the counter was one she was all too familiar with; there would be no point in continuing to try and be bubbly for this one. Instead, Pythia placed her order cleanly and efficiently- she had decided on the the pumpkin spice macchiato, with extra foam. The extra caffeine would keep her from a murderous rampage, and while the pumpkin spice caramel latte sounded delightful, she wasn't sure she wanted to bother them with the fact she'd probably need soy milk in order to make it through the rest of the day.

It didn't take too terribly long for her order to be ready. The bagel that she had ordered had already been made, though recently, and they needed only to slice it, toast it, and butter the savory bread. She had watched attentively, mourning each streusel crumb lost. “Pithy-ah?” The guy who called her name looked unimpressed as the cashier had been; his ronunciation of her name, at least, was close enough. And at the very least the spelling was correct, probably because they copied it off of her credit card. They likely had a lot of people purchasing the pumpkin spice items because of the season, which would explain the unusual speed. She carried out the pumpkin spice bagel in one hand, and the drink in the other, enjoying the warmth of each. One was much hotter than the other, but it would serve as a brace against the growing chill. The other dropped crumbs along her front every time her laptop bag bounced against her hip. At least it wasn't the other way around- losing her caffeine down her front wouldn't be a good way to continue her day by any stretch. The flavor was good, for both; she took a casual stroll back to the campus, polishing off the filling bagel happily. A little dry, perhaps, and the streusel topping came off as easily as she thought she had observed during the toasting process. She stowed away the wrapper in an outside pocket on her bag until she was able to find a trash can, and carried the beverage in both hands.

But by the time that the redhead made it to campus even that last little bit of her warm beverage was gone. Her mind felt a lot better, what with the fresh influx of caffeine and warmth to wake up her mind and uplift her spirit. She'd have to go back, she decided. Oh, her belly was complaining about how quickly she had eaten and drank, but she had that happen far too frequently when she'd skipped a meal, or waited too long between them. This time, however, was an unusually unpleasant situation. The closer that she got to campus, the more it seemed that her gut cramped. The cramping was painful, making her visibly wince, eventually biting into her lip to keep from showing it on her face. The bathroom wasn't far out of her way, and- oh, damn. Her clenching, angry, roiling gut was not to be trifled with. She could already feel the sweat beading her brow, and it seemed that no matter how much caffeine she'd just had, today just wasn't going to be her day. Pythia might not even make it to class, if she couldn't- She burst into the restroom with a gasp, holding her gut. She had never thrown up in a public toilet before, and gods willing, she would never be in a situation where she had to again. Though if it was her stomach or her- yeah, she was not going to continue that train of thought. It seemed that Pythia wasn't the only one having issues today either- all of the stalls bar one were full when she arrived, with the sound of bulemia, and the scent of-- pumpkin spice. Oh, ugh.

It was a blessing that she had gotten the last toilet stall. There were others who were having some 'issues' with their intestines too, and not all of them were going to be as fortunate in where they had to take care of it. At least one other woman was vomiting in the main area of the bathroom, possibly on the floor, and the sink and trash can were being used in ways they probably weren't meant to be. In the master stall next to her, she could hear a girl crying. Oh, she felt you strange girl. She felt you. Though why there were so many people having issues all at the same time- ugh. Maybe there was something in the water? Maybe they had all been poisoned? The last time she'd been in a room with this many sobbing women had probably been like- s**t, what was that movie? The sad one, with the kids in love. Whatever. She didn't actually care. The point was, she needed out of here, and her body was being very uncooperative. She closed her eyes, stretching her arms above her head, and tried to think lovely thoughts. Peaceful thoughts. Thoughts not about the fact that she was probably skipping the rest of today's classes and going home and dying.

Coming out of the stall a few minutes later was a blessing. Her hands were shaking, but the real problem came when she went to wash her hands. The extremities that touched the warm, wet handles were orange. She stared at them for a moment, before lifting them up to get a better look, in the light. And then she saw the mirror. Her- her face. Her face was orange, which clashed with her eyes. It looked like- she looked like a spray tan gone terribly wrong. And judging by the horrified moans she could hear coming out of the stalls behind her, it wasn't only she who was so... tangerine.

Oh yeah. She was definitely going home.