Page 53 of The Trouble with Flings

We head out to the elevator, and as we step inside, she says, “But first we have to make a quick stop at the drugstore.”

I glower at her. “Absolutely not.”

“Jennifer—”

“Mia, what part of I’m on the pill do you not understand?”

“You said your period has always been barely there, which means you might not have noticed missing one or two.”

One or two? Shitshitshit. “I’m not pregnant.”

“One test. It’ll take less than five minutes.”

“No.”

She leans closer, even though we’re alone in the elevator, and says, “If it’s negative, I’ll never bring it up again.”

I stare at her. “It will be negative.”

“Then this is a minor inconvenience to shut me up.”

The doors open, and I walk out ahead of her. She falls into step beside me, and we argue the entire way down the block, inside the drugstore, and we’re still arguing as we walk out with a paper bag I refuse to look at.

We walk in silence to the restaurant to pick up our food, then take an Uber to my apartment, sitting in silence the whole way. Mia holds the bag on her lap, and I stare absently out the window, thinking of all the ways a pregnancy would drastically upend my life.

My one-bedroom apartment is about as big as a shoebox, and the bathroom is equally small. But I’ve stood in the bathroom thousands of times, and never once has it felt like the walls were closing in the way it does right now as Mia and I stare at the test on the counter, watching two pink lines appear.

I can’t breathe.

“Positive,” Mia says.

My stomach plummets, and I sink down to the edge of the tub. Mia sits beside me, and for the longest time, neither of us speaks.

I feel like the earth is moving beneath me, and I have absolutely no idea how to stop it.

“Okay,” Mia says carefully. “Now we know why your boobs hurt.”

It’s not real. It can’t be real. “No, we don’t. These things give false positives all the time.” My voice sounds normal, which surprises me. I take that as a sign that it is a false positive.

“You need to make a doctor’s appointment and find out for sure,” she says.

“No. What I need to do is not freak out. I’m on the pill. There’s no way I’m pregnant.”

“Jennif—”

“Stop it. I know you want to freak out over this, but I’m not going to get all riled up over a drugstore test. I didn’t even want to take the stupid thing.” I grab the test and sit beside her again. “Look at it. The lines aren’t even dark. I looked at my pills, and I’m due to get my period a week from Monday. If it doesn’t come, then I’ll make an appointment.”

“It could take a couple of weeks to get seen, and—”

“It’s fine.” I set the test on the tub beside me. How can this be happening? My thoughts reel through memories of me and Fitz having sex in the ocean, in the shower, on every surface of our hotel suites. The pill is ninety-nine percent effective. I’m not the one percent. There’s no way I’m the one percent.

Oh God. Fitz. I clutch the edge of the tub.

I can’t fathom the thought that I could be pregnant, but…What if I am? Will he think I was trying to trap him? Will his family? Will he want me to keep it? Will I want to?

I close my eyes against a rush of fear, feeling like I might pass out, but I don’t want Mia to worry, so I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

Mia looks at me the way she has since we were little, like she can see the parts of me I’ve hidden away from the world. But she doesn’t push. She just reaches over and takes my hand, and we sit in silence.