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The crew made noise on deck as they prepared to dock. I supposed Rone was still up there talking with Siru. Or what if he was looking for me?
Maya didn’t completely shut the door when she left. I rose from the bed to close it. She popped back in the doorway before I had a chance.
“Found one.” She held up a slim, unopened box containing a pregnancy test in her hand like a trophy. “It was the last one in the infirmary from when I first thought I might be pregnant with Delphine.” She held the test out to me. “It’s over a year old and been out to sea probably more times than she has, but it should work.”
I took it from her, hesitant. My fingers were shaking. “It’s still in its original packaging. I don’t see why it wouldn’t work, right?”
Maya noticed my reaction and how I stalled to take the test. “You ever use one of these before?”
I shook my head. “No, but I know the drill. Pee on the stick and wait for the test results.”
“Some things are universal, right? Go ahead,” she coaxed. “It’s not like we’re getting off the ship until the crew finishes docking, anyway.”
I looked over the box. All the words were in Javorian. “This alien pregnancy test worked for you?”
“Javorians’ bodies aren’t that different from humans, except the need for blood consumption and all that but the pregnancy test works the same way.”
I shook the box as though it was going to do anything. The test rattled inside. “Guess I’m doing this.”
“I’ll be on deck if you need me.” Maya grabbed the door handle on her way out and gave me the thumbs up with her other hand. “You got this.”
Did I really? Once I heard the door click shut, I stood on unsteady legs to make sure it was locked. The last thing I needed was some Javorian sailor strolling by in the hall and seeing meclutching a pregnancy test. I learned fast that people on this planet liked gossip just as much as the average human.
I released a sigh as I went into the bathroom and opened the box. “Here goes.”
Chapter Seven
CAMMIE
Iwas so nervous I fumbled to read the instructions in the alien language on the pregnancy test. I’d been speaking Javorian fluently for a couple years and still kept stumbling over basic directions.
I knew what to do with the stick. No problem there. After finishing, I left the test on the sink in the cabin bathroom and set the timer on my com link.
How much time? I turned the instructions over to see. Some of the ink faded from exposure to salt air. I had to hold it up to the light. Was that five minutes, or fifteen?
I finally figured out it was fifteen. It would’ve been nice to have a shorter wait time, but by the time I managed to decipher the faded print, six minutes passed, anyway. I checked my com link to be certain all audio was still muted, then set it for the remaining nine minutes. I returned out to the cabin, busying myself by remaking the bed until I had the corners tucked in tight enough to make the staunchest housekeeper or drill sergeant happy.
Once I was sure I could bounce a quarter on top of the sheets, I rearranged all the stuff in my bag. Amazing how my anxiety could have me organizing everything in under ten minutes. Exactly how many minutes had gone by?
My com link vibrated on my wrist, causing both my feet and my pulse to jump. I stared at the open bathroom door as though it were the gateway to the point of no return. I knew I was being beyond dramatic, and yet, I wasn’t.
