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“Late for what?” she asks, then realization dawns. “Oh! Oh my goodness. Want me to go pick up a test?”
I nod, feeling dumb and scared all at once. She vanishes and I put the toilet lid down and sit, putting my head in my hands and stare down at the clean, white linoleum. I wish I’d told her not to say anything or tell anyone. But maybe she will keep it to herself.
The last thing I need is more gossip, especially in a town that knows who I’ve been seeing. The news would get back to him faster than the speed of light.
As I wait for her to return, I sit there, staring at my phone calendar, fear rising within me. What if I'm pregnant? What if everything is about to change even more than it already has? What am I going to do now? What would the smart choice be? Other than not having gotten pregnant in the first place, of course.
When Emma opens the bathroom door and comes in, offering me a paper bag, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Want me to leave or stay?” she asks.
“Stay, please,” I say, not wanting to do this alone. I follow the directions and put the test on the counter while washing my hands.
We wait in silence, and I wonder how two minutes feel longer than my whole life to date. And I glance in the little window, seeing two pink lines.
My heart freezes before giving a painful bang against my ribs. “Shit,” I whisper, my hands shaking as I ball up my fists. “What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” she asks.
I lift a shoulder, numbness filling me.
“Is Fredrick the dad?” she asks.
I stop moving and glance at her, giving her a stare as I press my lips into a flat line. She nods her head. “Of course, he is.”
I go back to staring at the positive pregnancy test, and I can't help but feel like everything is falling apart.
I barely register the cold floor under my bare feet as I stare at the positive pregnancy test. Two pink lines. My heart races and my stomach churns. I'm pregnant.
Fredrick and I are expecting a baby.
I turn my back, hoping I won’t throw up. When I turn back around, Emma has her phone in her hands.
“Why did you and him break up?” Emma sounds worried as her gaze meets mine.
“I can’t be with someone I can’t trust.”
She comes over to me and puts her arm around my shoulder, putting her phone in her pocket.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice soft.
Why does everybody keep asking me that? I’m getting really tired of lying.
“I don't know,” I say, leaning into her. “Everything is so messed up.”
“So, take it one step at a time.” She rubs my back. “What do you want to do?”
That’s a question I can’t answer right now. I just don’t know.Feeling overwhelmed, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then draw in another. How did my life become such a mess? And what am I going to do about this?
“I’m going to take a shower,” I whisper.
“That’s a good idea,” she says. “Need a hand?”
I shake my head, grateful for her. “No. It’s good to have you home again,” I say.
“It’s good to be back. And I’m sorry I hurt everyone.” She stops talking and stares off into space for a moment, then smiles and leaves the room.
I turn the water on, the sound of the shower thankfully loud enough to hide the soft sound of me crying.
