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The next wave of nausea nearly knocks me off of my feet, and before Susie’s even done talking, I’m running to the bathroom and heaving into the toilet. Tears sting my eyes as disgusting gushes of green and brown splatter in the porcelain bowl, and I hear Susie at the bathroom door.
“Oh my God, are you ok?” she gasps. “What happened?” The concern in my friend’s voice is real, and she rushes over and pulls my hair back for me. For a moment, all that vicious gossip seems irrelevant, and I wipe my face and flush the toilet before looking up at her.
“You’re so pale! Are you sick?” she asks in a worried tone. Susie puts the back of her hand against my forehead like she’s taking my temperature, and I weakly wave her away.
“No, no, I’m okay. It must’ve been the Flamin’ Hot Doritos mixing with all the Mountain Dew in my gut. Ugh, I knew that I should have eaten some real food first before diving straight into the snacks.”
Susie frowns.
“Yeah, that’s a killer combo for sure. But could it be something else?” she ventures.
I stare at her.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs.
“Well, this isn’t the first time we’ve had Flamin’ Hot Doritos with Mountain Dew and you’ve never been sick before. Hell, girlfriend, you have a stomach made of cast iron. So could it be something else?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“No, no, it’s the Mountain Dew. I think they reformulated that stuff so that it’s really potent now, and mixing it with spicy Doritos was a mistake. I just need to catch my breath,” I smile weakly. “And maybe puke some more.”
Susie nods.
“Do you want me to stay around?” she asks. “I can get you some water. How about that?”
Without waiting, she disappears for a moment, and comes back with a bottle of water which I gratefully chug.
“No, no need to stay, although I appreciate it,” I smile when I’m done. “You should go home because no one needs to see me vomit up the contents of my stomach, and I promise it’s not serious. I’ll be fine.”
Susie looks worried, but then she nods.
“Okay, no problem. But call if you want me to come back again, okay?”
I nod and wave her away as she grabs her bag and coat before leaving. As soon as I hear the front door slam, I hug my stomach tightly with both arms because Susie’s onto something. Even though Morgan and I always use protection, there were a few times when we completely forgot in the heat of the moment. OMG, could I be pregnant?
My mind goes in circles as I try to grapple with the possibility. I can’t be pregnant with Morgan’s baby, can I? But the fact is that it’s a possibility. He’s a virile man, and I’m a fertile eighteen year old woman. We make love constantly, and I could be pregnant at this very moment.
OMG, what am I going to do? What is Morgan going to think? Does he even want to be a daddy again? But as I mull over the situation, a certain knowledge settles in my heart. I know that if I’m pregnant, that I want to keep this child. He or she was created with the man I adore, and I want to raise him or her no matter what difficulties appear in my path. The only question is whether Morgan wants to be a part of the baby’s life … or not?
8
Morgan
I’m meeting up with an old law school friend tonight, and it’ll be fun. Conor’s a dirty bastard, and he always has something to report. But I’ve got a surprise too – I’m in a relationship with a sweet young thing two decades my junior, as improbable as it sounds.
Yet my relationship with Natalie is more than just the physical. Of course, I enjoy her sumptuous curves and love making her moan, but it’s more than just hot times in bed now. The sweet girl comes over on a regular basis, and it’s fun. June adores her, and we often cook dinner together before playing simple board games. Natalie’s teaching June basic phonics, and the girls have set up a mysterious obstacle course in the living room that looks like a snake on drugs. But I love it, and if anything, June adores Natalie more than she ever adored her mother.
But a man can’t ignore his friends forever, and so now I’m walking into a dimly lit bar to meet up with Conor. The bastard is already here, unmistakable with his black hair and flashing blue eyes. Sure enough, he’s tossing back a shot at the bar while flirting with a pretty woman next to him.
“Yo bro,” I say before clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming out to Sheridan.”
