Me: Any updates on TLT?
Gigi: If you keep up with my posts, then you would know. But, no, there are no updates yet.
I saw the pictures at the hockey game, how was that?
Me: It was actually fun. I think you would have enjoyed it.
Gigi: I’m sure I would have. There is nothing I love more than crowded spaces.
Me: Ha-ha. So...
Me: That means that you're not coming to my show?
Gigi: No, Emmy, I can't. I’m trying to get better with crowds, I promise.
Me: I know you are, G. Love you more than Marcus loves Carmen.
Gigi: I don’t think that’s possible. You wrote their love to be extremely powerful. Also, you couldn’t love me the same way because they’re in a romantic relationship.
Me: Would it kill you to say that you love me too?
Gigi: It wouldn’t kill me; I just don’t want to say it.
I laugh at Gigi’s last message and throw it next to me. The second it hits the cushion it starts to ring again. When I reach for it, I see the unknown caller ID, my pulse instinctively quickening. I swipe the answer button and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Wren? It’s Austin. Are you alone?”
My chest tightens at the sound of her voice. It’s been so long that I almost forgot what she sounds like. We've had a few calls over the last few years but nothing anything to remember. She’s always busy so it’s always a quick ‘Hi, how are you?’ on her way into the studio. I've always wanted a better relationship with my sister. She does her thing and I do mine. It's that simple.
Goosebumps immediately spread over my skin as my heart races.
“Is it your lover boy calling for phone sex?” Kennedy coos.
“No. It’s Austin,” I say, the words sounding foreign coming out of my mouth.
They both turn to me in horror as I pick up my ice packs and limp into my bedroom, closing the door. My hands shake as I sit down on the edge of the bed. “I’m alone. What’s wrong? No one has heard from you in months. Are you okay?”
“My life is over. My career is over. I won’t be able to dance anymore,” Austin says quickly.
“What? Are you hurt? What happened?”
“Worse,” she replies.
“Austin, what could be worse than that?” A huge part of me doesn’t even want to know the answer. Austin is a lot less dramatic than my mom. She’s always been the rational one but with the complete terror in her voice, I don’t think I want to know.
“I’m pregnant.”
The line goes strangely silent. Austin has never wanted kids. It’s not that she doesn’t like them. How can you hate a baby? But Austin’s life plans were very simple. Ballet. Get married. Ballet. Even as kids when asked what she wanted to do it was always ‘ballet’ with certainty and ‘marriage’ with a question mark.
She has done everything in her power to make sure that one plan stays consistent and that it actually follows through. In a way, I have a very similar to plan. Although, if I ever got pregnant it would be more of a miracle not to skate than a drawback.
She’s been dating Zion for as long as I can remember, and they’ve made it work between her schedule and his job as a book editor. I knew they were serious when he moved away with her to Russia a few years ago butthiswas clearly not in their five-year plan.
“How far along are you?” I ask when I get my voice back.
“Too far. Maybe four months?” I don’t say anything. What am I supposed to say to this? “Emmy, Ican’tdo this right now. This was supposed to be my last month here and then I was meant to move to France in the new year with just Zion - not himanda baby.”
