Her head’s already shaking before my sentence ends.
“I haven’t missed one.” I finally catch on to where she’s going with this, and my stomach drops. “No.” The word falls from my mouth on a heavy sigh. “I can’t be. It was one time. Just one. And we were protected.” And I really did have a period last month. Sure, it was on the light side, but it was a period. There’s just no way.
Ice fills my veins. Not wanting to confirm her suspicions, still firmly planted in denial, I take in what she’s holding in her hand. It’s a bag from the local pharmacy.
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.
“Yep. We’re doing this right now. I’m not letting you avoid this. Pee on the stick, and we’ll know one way or the other. One of us is right. Let’s see which it is.” She unboxes the pregnancy test and points the stick at me.
“Do you know how unlikely it is to conceive from a one-night stand? Especially considering I was on protection?” I try to stand up straight, to seem dismissive, indignant, confident. But my insides churn so hard that I’m not any of those things.
“Actually.” Her face darkens as she wiggles the stick. “I know exactly how unlikely it is.” There’s something in the tone of her voice that makes me think she’s speaking from experience. But Jazz doesn’t have any kids.
“Even if you have wholly unprotected sex on the right day of the month, there’s only a twenty-ish percent chance of conceiving from that session.” She arches her brow. “Ask me how I know.”
No. Fucking. Way.
She’s unrelenting with the pregnancy test, so I just whip down my undies and plant myself on the fucking toilet. If she’s going to make me do it, she can tag along for the whole ride.
“Sixteen-year-old Jazz. My boyfriend at the time swore it’dbe fine that we ran out of condoms. Turns out, it wasn’t fine. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”
That makes my jaw drop open.
When I’m done taking a sample and dipping the stick, I set it on the counter and tell my phone to set a timer.
“What happened?” I ask and turn to the sink.
In the mirror, she shrugs, but her face turns red. “I got an abortion.”
The admission hangs heavily between us for a long moment.
“It was the right decision at the time.” Her voice is thick with an emotion I can’t place. “My parents didn’t force me into it, they told me it was my life, my body, and I could make the choice.”
She takes my hand once I’m done drying. “I have been where I suspect you’re about to be. You’re going to need to make a decision, Vic. And it’s not one anyone else can make for you.”
Shaking my head, I wring my hands in front of my stomach. There’s no way. All this panic and anxiety is for nothing. It’s going to be the stomach flu or a virus—there’s no way the stick will say I’m pregnant. None.
It’s bad enough I didn’t get Loki’s number, but the fact that he hasn’t reached out seeps a little deeper under my skin. If Iampregnant, how can I tell him? How can I give him the option to be a part of his child’s life when I don’t even know his real name?
The timer goes off, and Jazz and I lock gazes for what feels like an eternity.
“You’ve got this.”
I most definitely don’t got this.
With a shaky hand, I pick up the stick from the counter. “See? I told you.” I smile, relief sinking in. “There’s no way I’m—fuck.”
The test clatters into the sink, my numb fingers unable to hold it.
The sympathetic stare from my best friend is nearly unbearable.
“Jazz.” My voice cracks as my jaw trembles. “I’m pregnant.”
CHAPTER 8
Victoria
(THREE YEARS LATER/PRESENT DAY)
