Page 149 of Blush Crush

Not me, barely a few months in with my first real boyfriend, alone and terrified this will be what finally wakes Cole up and makes him realize he doesn’t want any of this. He just wrapped his head around wanting a girlfriend, and now I’m potentially throwing a baby into the mix.

He’s going to freak.

We’ve never talked about any of this. Marriage. Babies. Nothing.

I’m not ready. There’s no way he’s ready.

The alarm on my phone snaps me back to reality and I take a few deep breaths before picking up the test, keeping my eyes squeezed closed because what you don’t know can’t hurt you. None of this is real until I see the results.

When my eyes finally open it doesn’t take long to read the digital words on the gray display.

Pregnant.

It’s not faint or obscured or hard to read. It’s bold and black and glaring at me.

And I think I’m going to be sick.

The spacious bathroom is suddenly the size of a shoebox. The walls haven’t moved but they feel closer, the air thicker,the sound of the girls’ conversation drifting up from downstairs suddenly very far away. I press a hand to my chest, feeling the thumping of my heart beat against it, and stare at the little window on the test like if I look at it long enough it might change its mind.

It doesn’t.

I’m pregnant.

A burn shoots up my throat with just enough warning to hover my face over the sink before acid and stomach fluid expel. It’s not much, more gagging than anything, but it’s violent enough to ignite my emotions and soon I’m sobbing, my chest heaving, vision all but gone, blurred behind tears that won’t stop coming.

I don’t know what to do.

I’m not even sure how I feel.

The realization moves through me in a strange, slow wave. I wait for something definitive to settle over me—something happy or terrified or relieved or devastated—and instead it’s everything at once and none of them completely, fractured and broken pieces drifting around me but none I can grasp.

I need Cole.

Nothing makes sense without him. And even if he doesn’t want this, I’m clear-minded enough to know I have to tell him before anything can be decided. Before I’ve even decided how I feel about it myself, he has to be the first person who knows. It’s not even a question.

I wrap the test in a wad of toilet paper and tuck it into my back pocket with hands that won’t stop trembling. Then I splash cold water on my face and look at myself in the mirror.

My eyes are glassy and red. My face is puffy, giving everything away. I can’t go back out there like this and expect them to not dig until they pull it out of me.

I have to get out of here.

Grabbing the tampon, I quietly go down the stairs, setting it on a console table near the door before firing off a text to Layla.

Not feeling well. Had to leave. Your tampon is on the black table. Love you.

By the time I get to my car, she’s already calling me and I press ignore. I’ve never ignored a call from Layla but there’s only so much I can handle right now.

The drive back to Cole’s happens in a flash. One moment I was in Elyse’s driveway, the next my headlights are shining on Cole’s porch.

My phone is lit up with notifications. Cole has texted me twice. The girls have all sent messages.

I don’t open any of them except the one from Elyse.

ELYSE

Saw the test box in bathroom. You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to talk about yet. Just know I love you, and no matter what you’re not alone. And I hid everything in case you’re worried.

“Fuck,” I groan, my head falling back against the seat. I might as well have announced the pregnancy on social media. What kind of idiot can’t be bothered to hide the evidence?