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“And I won’t,” I told her firmly. “I just need to know definitively first.”
An hour and a half later, she walked back into the room with a file in her hand and a serious look on her face. She sat down across from me and looked up.
I knew the answer before she said it.
I knew it before I came.
Twelve tests don’t lie, and neither did my blood test.
“You’re pregnant,” she told me.
“Okay.” I sprang off the bed I’d been lying on all night.
“Magnolia, wait—” Sarah tried to stop me.
“Thank you.” I turned back to give her a grateful look.
And I was grateful, truly, but I had about forty seconds left in me before I lost it.
I ran to my car, cried the whole way home.
I crept back into my house, but bumped into Marsaili passing in the hall.
“Magnolia.” She shook her head. “It’s 3:30 on a school night—”
“—I’m sorry,” I barely choked out.
“Are you crying?” she asked, reaching for my wrist.
“No.” I flinched away from her.
“Did you and BJ have a fight?” she pressed.
“No.” I shook my head again. “He’s just vomiting so I came home.”
She watched me, looking for a reason to doubt my story.
“I smell like vomit—” I shook my head. “I need to shower.”
I locked the door. I showered. I cried until morning.
