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When there’s nothing left to cough up, I flush the toilet just as my bedroom door swings open and Hannah stares at me, eyes wide.
“Shay, are you sick?”
I can barely find the energy to nod. “Obviously.”
I try to get to my feet and she’s there, pulling me up under my arms. She’s never been too affectionate with me, but she grabs my shoulders and peers at me closely. Well, not too close. I probably stink.
“What did you eat?” she asks, flipping down the toilet seat and making me sit on it. Then she goes to the sink and washes her hands with a ton of soap, for at least half a minute. “Break it down, everything.”
“Last night I had the beef and broccoli and spring rolls. This morning I had Lucky Charms and milk.”
“Was the milk expired?”
I give her the dirtiest look I can muster. “Do I look like I’d drink expired milk?”
She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the wall, staring at me like she’s trying to read my mind. That’s the way it is with Hannah, she either looks at you with indifference or you’re some impossible math challenge. There is nothing in between.
“What about your period? When was your last period?”
My cheeks flush. I do not talk to Hannah about stuff like this.
“I’m still waiting for it,” I say, staring down at the chipped pink polish on my fingernails. I had only done them yesterday, but I got the polish at a dollar store, so what did I expect?
When she makes a choking sound, I look up at her.
“What?”
“You’re waiting for it? You mean you missed it?”
I shake my head. “I mean it’ll show up. It’s just late. I didn’t miss it.”
“Oh my lord,” she says, her mouth setting in a firm line that reminds me of our mother when she gets mad. “When was the last time you had sex?”
My cheeks go even more red, and while I’m embarrassed about this conversation, fear is starting to take over the embarrassment, making my skin feel extra clammy. “Who said I was having sex?”
Hannah narrows her eyes. “Shay! I’m not an idiot. I live in this house, too.”
“Wouldn’t know it, you’re never home,” I say as a jab. Then I quickly look away before she can spear me with her gaze again.
“When was the last time, Shay? I haven’t seen Anders over here in a while…”
Way to remind me. I try and think. “I don’t know. Maybe two weeks ago.”
“And before that?”
I shrug. “It was often.” Except when it wasn’t.
“Are you on the pill?”
I shake my head, feeling ashamed, like a child. “No. I…I didn’t know how to get on that. But we were using condoms!”
Except…
My face falls.
The swimming pool.
“What?” Hannah asks.
I try to swallow, to speak, but it’s hard. “But once. We didn’t. A month ago…”
Then it all comes up.
Tears, this time.
I burst out crying, face buried in my hands, trying to keep it all together and failing.
This is the moment when I realize how alone I am.
And how fucked I am.
I cry for a few minutes, Hannah rubbing my back and making soothing noises.
Then she flicks the lights on and off to get my attention.
I stare up at her through the tears.
“Don’t lose your shit yet,” she says to me with determination. “I’m going to go to CVS and get you a pregnancy test. After you take the test, if it’s positive, we’ll figure out what to do. Okay? Come here.” She holds her hand out and I place mine in hers. She leads me out of the bathroom and to the bed, making me lie down. She hands me a pillow to hold onto. I cradle it like I used to do to Frank, our old golden retriever who died the day after my parents announced their divorce. Then she leaves and I’m all alone.
It feels like my sister is gone forever. In the time that passes I text Everly just to see how she is, wanting so badly to tell her what’s happening, but I don’t want to ruin her weekend trip, especially as I don’t know what’s what. I don’t want her to think less of me yet.
But I already think less of myself. For getting myself into this mess, for being so sloppy and careless, for basically fucking myself over just to be with Anders.
And Anders…what the hell am I going to tell him? He’s already being distant, this will only push him further away, all the way back to Norway probably. He won’t want any part of this, any part of me. I’ve seen a few girls in my grade actually get pregnant in hopes of keeping the guy, and it never ever works.
My sister comes back before I can get totally worked up, even though I shed a few more tears in the meantime. She plops the plastic bag beside me and takes out a bottle of Pedialite, some anti-nausea medication, and two pregnancy tests.
