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Out of all the people to win, I’d hoped it wouldn’t be Bella. She’s going to be even worse than usual with such an ego boost. Disappointed, I head to my changing station and practically throw off my dance clothes so I can pull on my regular ones, getting ready to face Dillan outside.
I feel light-headed, and the queasiness suddenly returns with a vengeance. In fact, I have to grip my chair and shut my eyes to keep from running to the bathroom again. My thoughts return to my late period, but this time, there’s doubt about a simple explanation for it.
Still, there has to be a reason why I’m late, one that doesn’t involve the obvious. Besides, I’m on the pill and have been for years. I never had a problem before. It’s got to be something else.
If somehow the pill failed and I’m late, that means I’m pregnant.
And I can’t be.
I can’t be pregnant with Dillan’s child.
Oh, God. Dillan. Do I have a surprise for you.
15
LIZZIE
Once I finish getting dressed, I decide to peek out onto the main floor and see if he’s still there. I suppose if I’ve got to leave early, I might as well salvage the rest of the night. Maybe he and I could reconnect and get dinner or something. That’s if he isn’t upset or anything about seeing me dance. I mean, if he came here to see me, he has to be fine with it, right? If he hated it, he wouldn’t have come.
Scratch that. No food, I think as my stomach twists uneasily again.
When I poke my head out from the back to look for Dillan, I’m dismayed to find his table empty. Huh? It seems he and his friends are gone. Has he left because of me? No way he left because of me.
Or did he?
I’d totally thought he’d found me and come to surprise me. But by the looks of it, he didn’t find me—at least not intentionally. It’s more likely his buddies dragged him here and then—ta-da—out walked good old Lizzie.
Surprise! She’s a stripper. Shaking her naked titties in one of the most notorious clubs of New York City.
Ohh. The expression on his face suddenly makes much more sense.
Heavens. And now he must think I ran off like a chicken because I realized he recognized me. Could this get any worse?
Great. Two disappointments in one night.
Lost the dance competition.
Lost the man.
Frickin’ awesome. Thanks a lot, fate.
All I want is to get home, so I figure I’ll take Marlene up on her offer and catch a ride with one of the bouncers, Knox, instead of dealing with the subway. I had such high hopes for tonight, and they’ve all been dashed and stepped on. Still, the pressure of trying to win the competition has been taken off my shoulders, and at least I can get some real rest like Pippa—and apparently, everyone else—wants me to.
I ask Knox to drop me off at the small drug store a short walk from my apartment. With the small nagging thought in the back of my mind, I know I won’t be able to rest properly. There’s one way I can determine if I’m pregnant—not that I think I am. Nope. Can’t be. But at least if I take a test, my anxiety will subside, and I’ll be able to take advantage of a quiet evening and fall asleep without tossing and turning.
It takes me an embarrassingly long time to work up the nerve to go inside the drugstore (cue my award for the slowest decision-making ever), and even longer to head to the aisle of pregnancy tests (like, seriously, I’m breaking records). God, there are so many. Some are digital readouts, some display two lines, and others read that pregnancy can be detected five days before your missed period, but then another one says six days.
My head spins, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the nausea and dizziness.
In the end, I buy two packs—a cheap one and an expensive one. I can’t tell you the difference between the two, but in total, there are four tests.
I’m prepared to take all of them just to be on the safe side.
The bag in my hand seems as if it weighs a thousand pounds, and the walk back to my apartment takes an age and a half. Mrs. Loughty is in the hallway when I make it upstairs. Even though on good days I would love to humor her for a chat, today isn’t one of them.
She greets me with that cheerful voice of hers. “Hello, Lizzie. You’re home early! What a lovely surprise, my dear.”
“Hi, Mrs. L.” I barely manage to get the words out, my voice tight as I try to hold back tears of anxiety and fear. “I’m in a hurry. Gotta go.”
